The Intruder Mandate: The Farthest Star from Home: a military sci-fi suspense novel

by William Cray

  She looked into his eyes, softening his defenses. “If you fight me you will only try to kill yourself again, like your friend, or like tonight in the club.” She moved closer to him, their faces close, lips brushing as she gazed into him with crystal fire. “I can show you everything. I have to find out. So do you.”

  “Trust me,” she said pressing deeper into him, taking his resistance in her hands and dissolving them in her touch as she climbed on top of him, straddling him and pushing him down onto the pillows. She had been inside of him already too much, she tore down his will with pitiful ease and an intense gentleness. Paths he tried to close off and divert from her, she opened with a soft caress and they melted away. Duran began to confuse reality and the intense emersion of her fingers running through him, pulling and guiding his visions. With her naked form intertwined with his, she whispered, “Open you mind to me.”

  She took his hands into hers as she started moving rhythmically within him, guiding his fingers across her soft body, touching her at each slope and curve, she guided his hands to her long neckline. Duran stared deeply into her eyes, moaning softly with each movement…then his fingers started to clasp.

  5 Years after the Liberation of Earth

  Classified Star System

  Vendetta Fleet

  Objective V

  3rd Planetoid orbiting the Intruder Homeworld

  “Claymore…up.”

  “Longbow…up.”

  “Shield…up.”

  “Guidon…up.”

  “Roger,” Duran responded. “All Renegade elements up. Guidon, how’s our package doing?

  “Vitals are coming back down…they’re fine. First time…fast ride…you know. They’re fine.” Swift responded.

  “Shield?”

  “Zero Alpha, links are good, negative contacts, overheads are clear…no transients.”

  “Ok…All Renegade elements…we are on the clock…three hours forty-nine minutes until the shockwave turns this entire rock into a pile of kinetic dust. We need to be in our shipshorts at Club Kursk long before then, sipping fruity drinks and showing off our hardware to anyone who wants to see it …Continue mission.”

  Duran watched the deployment of the other eleven members of his team, always checking the stealth systems of each as they moved from point to point. If he couldn’t see them, knowing about where they were, then no one could. Not even his suits enhanced systems or the surveillance probes in close orbit could find them. It was a dark barren rock, still as death.

  Duran glanced up, following the jagged curvature of the moon. The eastern horizon was already glowing from the fires of the Apocalypse. The Intruder homeworld was coming apart below the moon’s terminus. Each moment brought the fires of hell closer. The shockwave would be here soon, and the rock beneath their feet would be hurled into the darkness, melting from the residual blast and destruction of its home planet. Nothing living within two AU’s of the planet would survive the radioactive superburst emanating from the planets melting core.

  It was beautiful from a distance. Codenamed V-Prime, so much like Earth, with great oceans and skies of blue, mountains and icy caps. But it had been burning for days and now was about to implode, consumed by the Emperor’s secret weapon.

  The Intruders and the entire planet they called home would burn for what they had done to the people of Earth. No landing could be attempted; even proximity to their planet was deemed too great a risk. A fleet scout ship had already been turned against them, ramming and disabling the Emperor Romanov in a suicide strike.

  Duran glanced skyward into the night, his helmet optics opening the sky above him. Emperor Romanov was a bright blue flare in the distance, already burning away from the torrent of radiation and destruction it had wreaked upon the Intruders. He was opening the distance, out of the system, scooping up his support ships and escorts for the journey home, back to Earth. With one of its massive transference drives disabled in the suicide attack, it would be a long slow journey home. Emperor Paulus was out there somewhere as well, but out of view, lurking behind one of the systems gas giants.

  Kursk was descending below the horizon after inserting Duran’s team. It would be coming up again fast, tracking with her guns and dropping Lieutenant Colonel Cochrane’s battalion landing force on the next pass.

  Checking first left, then right, Duran stood from his crouch, moving forward with quick, low gravity bounds. The only evidence of his existence were the impressions left by his suit’s bootgrips and the small puff of loose ice and rock as he struck the surface with each stride. Swarms of spider-like micro-sensors moved alongside them, collecting information and looking for possible threats in the vacuum. The team moved in complete silence, even LOS burst transmissions could give away their presence and invite attack.

  Normally, Duran would be spoiling for a fight, but with two inexperienced civilians thrust into his care, he wanted to avoid a battle. Edie and Jon were the only names he was given for the two civilians. They were supposedly Intruder specialists and command had inserted them into the mission at the last moment. They were there to help warn the team of an Intruder mind attack, even though the local mind control towers dotting the rocks surface had already been taken out by the Kursk prior to insertion. Kursk nuked every surface structure around the objective to clear the way. The two scientists weren’t clumsy or even poor suit operators. They were just inexperienced. Swift sheparded them along like a lioness protecting her cubs, but defending them would hold back the full fury and capabilities of Duran’s team if it came to a sudden and violent engagement.

  The team moved up, diving into the objective crater with low-G skips, passing under the enormous, crane-like, ship moorings of the complex, easily bounding over the ten meter glacial ice berms erected around the facility and into the remains of a series of enclosed storage areas, dug into the ice along the perimeter of the objective. Spider eyes would record everything for later analysis. Within minutes, they reached their initial checkpoint, near the objective. A duracrete path ran up from the crater floor, an icy path led up to a pair of double doors, recessed into the rock. The team spread out into a defensive perimeter, holding for a moment to allow the suit’s surveillance systems to take bearings and to check for signs of detection.

  All Clear.

  “Renegade, are you seeing this? Does this place remind you of anything?”

  Hansen recognizes it too, Duran thought. “Roger, Axe. I see it.”

  The place was laid out just like an old Grenadier asteroid harbor. Only this facility was capable of mooring a much larger vessel and it lacked the Grenadier propensity towards breastworks and battlements. There had been recent activity based on a few faint thermal hot spots and some landing skid depressions around the opening. A narrow energy band showed up as a low frequency hum from a bank of solar enhancers lining the exterior of the building.

  Duran had the overheads of the area meshed onto his visor, checking for changes or anything Recon might have missed. Everything still looked as briefed. Three hours thirty-three minutes remaining. “Longbow, overwatch. Claymore, breach.”

  Duran crouched at the base of the ramp as the three members of Hansen’s assault team moved up to the reinforced doors at the top of the ramp. They appeared as apparitions in the distance as they closed, then evolved into ghostly silver beings, reflecting dull gray and brown patterns of the surrounding crater as they passed by in the vacuum. Even up close, the Tri-Lum refraction fields made them hard to see. It was like trying to identify the true shape of someone in a funhouse of mirrors. If they stopped, they would cease to exist.

  Axe reported in. “Breach complete. Negative contact. Looks like an airlock.”

  Duran responded, “Roger…Longbow, set squires and notify Kursk we are entering the Objective…Green for landing force. Shield, Guidon, assemble on Claymore, set master mode to CQB…pop shells and disable PDS. Untether sprites.”

  Duran activated the suit’s close quarter battle systems through his cybernetic implan
ts, setting the sensors and scanners for an enclosed environment and preparing the S.P.E.C.A.T. battlesuit for entering the shelter.

  Each combat suit shed a tiny network of close range autonomous sensors clinging to their armored exteriors. Tri-Lum shells unlatched from the suits, dropping to the ground at their feet like silver plates, exposing the forged Hoplite heavy black armor beneath their silver skins.

  Duran arrived first, followed by Swift herding the two civilians, who lumbered up the ramp with rough, thumping strides. The two specialists didn’t have the cybernetic interface with their combat suits. Instead each action was mimicked by less efficient muscle motor interpreters, which slowed them down from the efficient movements of the rest of the team. It was a lot of work for someone not accustomed to the interface. They were stressed and probably becoming fatigued. If they began to struggle worse, Duran would order the suits to be slaved to Anne, who would take over their motor control and speed them up. The drawback was that it would reduce her effectiveness.

  Duran grumbled to himself again about allowing them on this mission.

  The Spectrum Emissions Warfare team came up last. Warrant Officer 3 Kordo and Warrant Officer 2 Mason skipped up the ramp. Aerials and links extended from their suits like the spiny fins and antennae of an exotic sea creature.

  Hansen’s Claymore team with Bosse and Ryo, had already popped their luminous tritanium curriass and released the Talon rifles recessed under the chest plates. The iconic weapons unfolded into their combat configuration once free of the curriass. Heavier beam weapons and rockets would be too close in the confines of the bunker.

  As his team took position, weapons up, Hansen pointed above the airlock arch, looking at Duran.

  Duran unrolled the helmet blast shield covering his face, ending the flow of data across it. The unnatural orange fires of the burning world come over the horizon, illuminating the inside the crater. Hansen pointed to an inscription over the entrance arc written in Imperic.

  “MASS EXTRACTION SHAFT-1.”

  Duran read the inscription twice as the light of dancing flames from the burning homeworld licked the letterings edges. He turned to the specialists who were examining the crater below them from the high vantage on the ramp. Duran pointed to the inscription. “Do either of you have an explanation for this?”

  The woman, Edie lifted her blast shield, and Duran could make out blue eyes against the shadows of her helmet. Instead of looking up, she focused on Duran. “Yes Major…a long time ago this used to be a human outpost.”

  Hansen chimed in as he prepared to enter the airlock, “So that would mean that the Emperor knew about this place long before the invasion…A new surprise from our dear old Emperor every day lately…Yesterday we find out about the planetbuster, and today we find out he has known about this place all along...”

  Duran cut Eric off before he started his traditional cynical commentary every time the subject of the Emperor came up. “Doesn’t change anything. Three twenty-nine on the clock. If we run into resistance, we punch it and move on. Anything we can’t smash, grab or burn, we pull out. Plenty of time left. Lets go.”

  Duran turned to the two specialists. “The minute you know something, you tell me. Anything…you understand me?” Duran saw the woman’s eyes cut to crystal slits in retort as she watched him, through the helmet.

  “Move out.” Duran released his own rifle, taking it into his armored hands, following Hansen into the shaft.

  Moving inside the cavernous excavation, the team followed a long corridor into the shaft, single file. Duran’s three-man long-range fire suppression team, Longbow, remained at the entrance with linked Squire Gunhogs, securing the crater until Cochrane’s commando battalion landed.

  “Keep moving forward. There should be an elevator shaft at the end of the corridor,” Jon said.

  “Direct fire weapons from this point on,” Duran said. Remember, we are looking for human hostages being held here. Check your targets before you engage.”

  They reached the elevator, and Hansen ordered the car it to their level.

  When the Intruders retreated from Earth they took scores of humans as shields. Intelligence said some were being held in this complex. There were still more, a great many more, captive on the planet below. But they were beyond rescue now. The Intruders compelled their minds and they were condemned to perish in the proto fires with their captors. Nothing could be done for them, except ask their forgiveness in whatever life succeeded this one.

  There was barely room for three armored soldiers in the elevator when the doors finally swung open. Sending probes down might reveal their presence and give any Intruders at the bottom of the shaft time to prepare. They had prepared for this contingency. They would have to take some risks if they wanted to go further.

  “Ok Axe, take Claymore down first.”

  The three big juggernaughts of the Claymore assault team squeezed in. If one of the big psuedo-Intruder beasts was at the bottom of the shaft, Axe would rely on shock effect and violence to win a brutal hand-to-hand fight. If one of the big beasts got up close, they could pound you flat. There wouldn’t be anything subtle about the fight. Besides, there just wasn’t room to maneuver in those tight quarters.

  Duran waited quietly as the elevator descended, listening, keeping all nets open. Hansen called off ranges… “One hundred…Ok now we’re passing through fifty, still negative contact… Giggles pop your flamer and point it at that door…Cook anything not bringing us kisses and flowers when that door swings…We’re at twenty now…. Oh fuck…”

  “What is it Axe?” Duran asked. The team seemed to gather tighter around him.

  “Fuck…I got a transient Alpha Wave…it’s gone now, but sure as shit the needle hopped.”

  The specialist Jon broke into the channel. “Axe, how do you feel right now?”

  “What the fuck is that supposed mean…I feel a warm spot in my trunk where I almost shit myself, that’s how I feel.”

  “No…What I mean is, are you experiencing any disorientation.”

  “Negative…everything between my legs is still swinging. I’m good… Now five to go…anything I should know before this door opens.”

  “And the others, Axe?” Duran asked. Ryo and Bosse reported feeling fine. Duran looked over at the specialists.

  The woman nodded her head. “Continue Major…but have them go no further in until we get down there. There may be some humans down there who aren’t rational. Have your team taze them.”

  “You read that Axe?”

  “Got it. We’re at bottom...There’s a fog layer of condensed air down here, Could be temperature control failure. Doors are opening.”

  Duran waited in silence at the top of the open shaft, his visor displaying Hansen’s camera view, ready to leap into the abyss to aid his friend if they got into trouble. He wouldn’t leave them down there to die in an elevator shaft at the bottom of a rock, not after coming this far. The big silverback Intruders could crush them if they got leverage. In confined spaces, the first shot might be the only one you got off before they were on you.

  “Ok…another corridor, this one shorter…we’re clear…Negative Alpha. I’m sending the elevator back up.”

  “Hold posit…we’re coming down.”

  Within a few minutes the team was down. Cochrane’s’ landing force had reported a good drop and were taking up positions around the crater walls, ready to assist in evacuation or defense. The heavy doors at the end of the corridor were sealed with a shred of power maintaining the locking mechanisms integrity. Security systems lined the hallway pointing to the interior of the corridor, but power was down and they stared at the door in blind vigilance.

  Hansen used his suits cryptosmash interface to breach the security lock. He reached out with the powerful servo's of his suit and pryed it open. Duran started for the door, rushing into the darkness, taking the lead, followed by the rest of the team, Anne Braiselle secured the rear with Jon and Edie in tow.

  Once inside
, Duran transitioned to active IR light, bathing the room in an invisible red glow that that his eye filament overlaid on his cornea. No one with out the proper equipment could see the red IR light sweeping the room. The doors behind them slid back into place on powerful self-closing springs, sealing them in.

  Mason ran the environmental scan, sampling the air, as the others scanned for any movement around them, linking the data between the team, creating a seamless mesh of situational awareness. The room was flooded with tiny sensor sprites spreading out, sampling everything and disseminating the data through their hive network. The complex was still.

  Mason chirped in after his completing his scan. “Nitrogen, oxygen mix…elevated CO2. Air breathable.”

  With mental command, Duran’s visor cracked open and the life support mask pealed back. He took a tentative breath and let the chamber air ease into his lungs. Stale, but breathable. Others followed suit, opening their suits to the chamber air.

  “Next room.”

  Once again Hansen took point, cracking the door with his usual speed and efficiency. The power locks disengaged and Hansen forced the door open. As it slid open, a terrible stench filled his nostrils. It smelled like death, burned flesh, open bowels, blood. The IR spotlights danced across the rooms’ contents, eerie illumination dancing in the corpse filled chamber. The lights hovered over the death pose of victims as they moved in. They were humans.

  It was a control room of some sorts, branching out into an octagon of rooms. Duran looked at the heavy opened doors. Cells.

  The team kept their communication discipline as they swept the room, weapons at the ready. Mason and Kord examined the control board, looking for a usable or adaptable interface to download any information. Again all the mechanisms were human and recognizable. Any alien architecture or interface was absent. This was a place built by men. Men that lay eviscerated on the floors.

  Duran approached slowly, kneeling over one of the torn bodies as sprites crisscrossed the carcass, sampling and scanning. Although dead for several hours the body had a fresh red slash across it's torso, revealing burned organs on the inside. The result of an intense heat weapon that some of the Intruders carried. The body was torn, but it was humanoid in shape and appearance. Had to be one of the hostages, Duran thought, perhaps attempting escape after the power had failed. The face was horribly disfigured with almost no distinguishing features, only a single human ear was unmaligned. Around his waist was a belt, with a com and data link. Strange to see those on a prisoner, Duran thought.