by Dan Worth
It seemed to have worked. The capital ships had remained on station around Maranos, but they had remained in very high orbits, no doubt wishing to remain as far up the gravity well of the planet as possible. They had also sent out reconnaissance flights of fighters to comb the system, steadily working outward planet by planet. It would be some time before they swept this part of the system: at the rate they were progressing it would be well after the arrival of the Leonides and Gustavus Adolphus groups, by which time the K’Soth would have other things to worry about. Chen was still concerned however. The two carrier battle groups would still be hugely outnumbered and would have to survive for over two hours against the numerically superior enemy fleet.
At least the brief lull had given them chance to take stock of the damage inflicted during the battle. Decks exposed to space were properly sealed, damaged conduits re-routed or repaired, armour patched or strengthened with quick-fix temporary solutions. There was time to treat the wounded, and mourn the dead.
Ramirez had visited the ship’s infirmary. There he had found a vision from hell. The effects of spacecraft combat upon the human body were severe: those that weren’t killed by the blast were then often exposed to extremes of pressure or vacuum which collapsed or ruptured internal organs and blood vessels. In these scientifically enlightened times it was possible to re-graft a lost limb or organ with a cloned replacement, but that process took time and the effects of decompression often damaged the entire body irreparably in one go. Patients often drowned in their own fluids or bled to death internally before they could be treated.
Dr Anderton and her team were struggling to cope with the numbers of casualties. The ward was filled with the screams and cries of the wounded, the desperate sobs of the amputees and burns victims who were destined to be disfigured for months to come. They were the lucky ones. Others, mere wrecks of human bodies, now lay at the centre of clusters of machinery and tubes that would keep them alive until they could be offloaded to better facilities aboard a base or medical vessel. A row of body-bags in the morgue marked the deceased. There were a great number of them.
Ramirez felt utterly helpless. He walked among his injured crewmates, offering what support he could, a friendly word, a shoulder to cry on, and occasionally lending a hand to one of the medical staff. But the shattered remains of his crew broke his heart. Many of them were young, technicians and maintenance crews who had been tending the weapons in the forward section of the ship and hadn’t stood a chance when the turret exploded.
They might be joined by others before the day was out, since the battle for the Fulan system was far from over. Chen had maintained her steely manner. Ramirez guessed that she was retaining her composure by sheer force of will until the battle was entirely over one way or another. He looked at his watch: their reinforcements would be here soon. He made his way from the infirmary back up to the bridge. His entrance was met by the weary stares of his subordinates and by Chen, whose expression became one of concern as she saw his grief stricken face. She beckoned that he should follow her into her office. Once the door was closed behind them she spoke.
‘How are they coping down there Commander?’ she asked, her voice lowered.
‘Not well. Dr Anderton and her staff can barely cope with the number and severity of the cases. Over a third of those admitted have died and the state of some of those that are still alive… it’s… God, Michelle, some of them are just kids!’ His voice cracked.
Chen clutched him to her.
‘I know Al, I know all about it. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry but I tried my best.’
‘I know you did. If that shield hadn’t failed…’
‘Yes. Most of them would still be here.’
‘God I’m sorry, I should try and keep myself together,’ he said
‘It’s alright Al, there’s nothing to be ashamed of. You’re a good man at heart. Just stay by my side until this is over.’
‘But how do you remain so composed?’
‘Do you think I don’t care?’
‘No, it’s not that.’
‘I’ll mourn them later Al, all of them and those we lost on the other ships and on the planet too. But this is war, I have to retain my composure, I have to set an example and lead us all out of this mess. You don’t… you don’t know what that responsibility means.’ She added, her voice beginning to falter. ‘You know I feel like I killed those people lying in body bags down in the infirmary? Their safety was my responsibility and I failed them! I’m glad I destroyed those K’Soth ships! I’m glad I made those fucking monsters burn for what they did today to our people and what they did to our grandparents’ generation. There’s a whole damn armada of them out there now, and I intend to see each and every one of those worthless fanatics exterminated!’
‘God, I’m sorry Michelle I shouldn’t have…’
‘There’s no need to apologise, but I hope now that you understand how I feel.’
‘I do, I think.’
‘Then come with me. The carriers will here soon, let’s finish this.’
High above Marantis, a single transport dropped from the belly of the command ship of the K’Soth relief force, the War Temple Incinerator, and began its descent towards the shattered city below. A few moments later another emerged and then curved round the planet towards Erais.
From the top of the temple’s central tower, Bibarat watched the tiny falling star. It was getting larger, heading this way. He had been trapped inside the temple during the bombardment, along with several hundred other terrified Dendratha. He had wept with terror as the alien weapons fell from the sky and flattened the city, but at least he was still alive. When silence fell once again over the city he had climbed the tower to get a better look at what had befallen his home. He could scarcely believe his eyes.
The entire southern quarter of Marantis had been utterly destroyed. A huge smoking crater marked the point where the plasma beam had hit and lay at the centre of an area of total devastation a kilometre across. Further out from the impact point the blast wave had shattered buildings right across the southern half of the city: they now stood wrecked and roofless like a mouth full of broken teeth. Many still burned fiercely and a black pall of smoke drifted southward from the city in the hot desert winds.
The remainder of the city was more intact, but it too was cratered by the effects of the kinetic missiles that had fallen on the marine positions. Bibarat looked down onto the sacred ground that surrounded the temple: it too had suffered. Defiled and spoiled by the fighting, the wrecks of the humans’ vehicles lay scattered across it, as well as the charred remains of their crew. He could barely comprehend the sheer scale of the destruction and misery that had been inflicted upon his people by the aliens. If the humans hadn’t brought them here… but it was already too late wasn’t it? The things that Katherine and Rekkid had found were what they were after. Bibarat knew that the soldiers had taken them prisoner and locked them up in the cellars.
If those other aliens came here, the K’Soth, what would they do to them? They had already destroyed half a city, what would they do to the two archaeologists? Bibarat liked Katherine and he guessed that he liked Rekkid as well. She had been kind to him, listened to him and indulged his curiosity. He had to let them out and get them to safety before that ship arrived. If they could get out of the city maybe they could hide out in the canyons.
He peered at the blasted scenery once more. Strange armoured six-limbed forms were moving through the rubble in packs. They must be the K’Soth, he concluded. They certainly weren’t humans. He saw the dim light glint off blades and guns. He would have to hurry.
Steven’s squad were making remarkably good progress through the ruins. So far they had encountered no resistance and had found the going relatively easy. Only in a few places had they found the road blocked by fallen rubble. The marines fingered the safeties on their weapons as they checked every doorway, alley and other cover for signs of movement. They saw no-one besides wounded and shell-shocked Dendratha, wh
o by now were emerging from the rubble of their homes and businesses and just coming to terms with the disaster inflicted upon their city. They saw some attempting to put out the fires with what water they could obtain, others dragging broken bodies from under fallen masonry and beams. Others simply sat dejectedly in huddled groups and held one another. Hostile stares greeted the marines at every turn.
The squad had reached a cross roads. Formerly a small market it was now marked by the upturned wreck of a gunship that had been knocked out the sky by the blast wave. Its broken-winged form lay like a dead insect at the end of the furrow it had carved in the baked mud road surface, whilst its nose was half buried in the wall of one of the shops on the north western side, bringing the masonry crashing down on top of it. One of the point-men, Private Krohn, began to check the vehicle in a vain hope that someone might still be alive inside. Steven saw him recoil in disgust after making the mistake of peering inside the crumpled cockpit.
There was a noise, a trickle of stones moving inside one the wrecked shops. It seemed to be coming from the one that the gunship had half demolished. Steven signalled to the others to warn them. Too late.
With blood-chilling war cry the first of the K’Soth warriors sprang from behind the broken wall, pounced upon Krohn and severed his head with one swipe of its enormous curved sword. The thing howled as the unfortunate man’s blood spattered its armour. More followed. Around half a dozen of the aliens had concealed themselves inside the ruined shop. The K’Soth must have spotted them, guessed the route that they were taking and had lain in wait for them.
Steven cast his eye over the advancing group of aliens. They were clad in sand coloured carapace armour, the heavy plate lending their six limbed forms an even more insectile appearance. In places the armour had been decorated with religious symbols and totems, as well as a few grisly trophies of war. They were well armed too, with bulky side-arms as well as at least one hand to hand weapon, long curving blades of razor sharp steel like the one their leader had just used to behead Krohn.
Their heads however remained unprotected. K’Soth liked to use their powerful jaws in close combat, and the wearing of helmets, except when the environment made it a necessity, was considered a gesture of cowardice amongst K’Soth warriors. This suited Steven fine, it gave them something to aim for.
Already the two marines armed with heavy weapons had dropped back to lay down covering fire as the K’Soth leapt forward. The large reptilian warriors moved with surprising speed and agility and covered the short distance from the ruined shop in seconds. Steven yelled to his men to bring them down.
Two K’Soth were cut down by the heavy weapons teams as they raced forward, ichorous alien blood spattering onto the dusty earth. The other four continued their charge. The small arms fire from the marines was having little effect against the K’Soth armour.
‘Aim for the head!’ Steven shouted over the noise of combat into his comm., emphasising the point by bringing up his weapon and shooting the lead warrior through an eye socket. It howled with pain and collapsed into the dust. He shot it a couple of more times through the centre of its skull to make sure. Another two fell to accurate shooting from the rest of the squad.
One remained. As it charged it raised it pistol and shot Ingrams through the chest, killing him instantly. It then continued its kamikaze run and headed for the medic Tomita, who was shielding his patients. He shot it through one eye before the K’Soth gutted him with its sword and kicked the semi-conscious Lieutenant so hard it broke his neck with a stroke. Reaching down it grabbed another patient in its claws and used her shattered body as a shield as it advanced upon one of the heavy weapon operators. The man hesitated, reluctant to risk shooting one of his comrades. It was a fatal decision. The K’Soth hurled the woman’s body at him before leaping after it and pulled the stunned marine’s head from his shoulders, roaring in triumph as it held the grisly trophy aloft. His line of sight now unobstructed, Steven opened fire.
‘Sir!’ Steven heard the cry and turned to see another group of K’Soth charging towards them from behind their position. The first attack had been a feint, and now the second group of six more warriors was almost upon them. Two of them hefted heavy gatling guns and took cover from the piles of fallen debris whilst they laid down a murderous barrage of fire. Steven threw himself flat behind a chunk of rubble as marines fell around him, and came face to face with a sword dropped by one of the slain K’Soth. He grabbed it instinctively.
Though fashioned for one handed use by the large aliens and thus outsized, it would serve well as a two handed weapon. The curving blade was surprisingly light and incredibly sharp; it reminded Steven of a Japanese katana. As the lead warrior leapt upon him he thrust the blade upwards between the plates of its belly armour, quickly withdrawing it and rolling away to avoid being crushed beneath the falling creature. He scrambled to his feet and found that now three more warriors were upon him. His men lay dead at their feet.
Seized with anger he blocked the strike of the lead K’Soth then swung his new found weapon and beheaded the creature, the force of the impact almost jarring the blade from his hands. K’Soth blood drenched him as he leapt to one side to keep the remaining two warriors between him and the heavy weapons positions. The duo eyed him cautiously, ready for his next move and considering theirs. The heavy jaws of one opened wide as it hissed at him. Steven saw its thick pointed tongue snaking between rows of knife like fangs. Its breath stank of rotten meat.
The other was drawing its gun. Quickly he dove to one side to dodge the shot, regained his footing and severed the hand that held the weapon. The warrior roared with pain and anger and threw itself at him. Steven instinctively shielded his head from the mountain of armour, teeth and slashing claws that bore down on him as he tried to roll out of the way. He was sure then that this was the end - but it never came. As the creature pounced, a shot rang out and the K’Soth warrior was cut in two, entrails and meat showering its intended victim. Another hit felled the other, before a staccato roll of automatic fire swept the K’Soth heavy weapons positions, silencing them.
Steven stumbled to his feet, swept the gore from his eyes and saw the low angular form of a Scorpion tank as it advanced towards the ruined crossroads, its turret sweeping left to right as its gunner sought new targets. Steven waved to the man sat atop the vehicle’s cupola currently manning the gatling cannon that had felled the K’Soth heavy weapon team. The gunner looked in surprise at the blood drenched armoured form that clutched an equally gory sword, before waving back. Steven was the sole survivor. The crossroads was littered with corpses.
There was another sound too now, above the thrum of the tank’s AG generators: the roar of spaceship retros. Steven looked up and with dismay saw the swept wing form of a K’Soth transport descending over the temple grounds. He was too late.
Chapter 29
The torches had long since gone out in the cellar, leaving Katherine and Rekkid in total darkness. They had lost the use of the external cameras too. The link, damaged by the blast wave, had finally given out. They had been sitting in the blackness for some time when the silence was broken by sound of shuffling outside the door followed by a gentle tapping. Katherine felt her way to the door and pressed her ear against the rough wooden surface. There it was again: someone was definitely banging gently on the door, she could feel the reverberations against her cheekbone as they struck the wood. She knocked back in response.
‘Katherine?’ came a small voice. Dendratha; judging by the accent. Her translator was barely picking it up, squawking ‘Katherine’ in a tiny voice in response.
‘Yes? Who’s there?’
‘It’s me, Bibarat. I’ve come to get you out. I managed to get the key to this room.’
‘Where are the marines?’
There was a pause. ‘I think they’re all dead. The ones here left to go and fight and they never came back. Just a moment, I’ll open the door.’
There was the sound of clattering metal as Bibar
at wrestled with the heavy un-oiled lock. He pushed the door open, flooding the room with dim torchlight. Katherine and Rekkid blinked at the sudden change in illumination.
‘You’re both alright? The soldiers didn’t hurt you?’
‘No we’re okay, but thank you Bibarat.’ She reached down and hugged him. The small alien looked vaguely embarrassed.
Rekkid scrambled to his feet and approached the flustered Bibarat. ‘What’s going on? How did you manage to get the key?’
‘This isn’t usually a prison. We have other places where keys to the store rooms are kept.’
‘In any case, you have my utmost thanks. I’m not sure how much longer I could stand being cooped up in that place. Now what is going on?’
‘No time! No time to explain!’ Bibarat turned to leave. ‘Please, you must follow me! More of them are coming here!’ He beckoned and they followed him out of the makeshift cell into the warren of torch-lit passages beneath the temple.
‘More marines?’ Rekkid asked.
‘No! More K’Soth. They will kill you like the rest won’t they? We must hide.’
‘Where do you suggest?’
‘We must get out of Marantis. Hide in the canyons, they won’t find us there.’
‘I wouldn’t be too sure Bibarat,’ said Katherine sceptically. ‘I think we’re part of what they came here to take.’
‘Then all the more reason….’
There was a dull roaring from above, it grew steadily then died away suddenly.
‘That sounded like a ship landing,’ Rekkid commented. ‘I think our scaly friends are already here. What now?’
‘What if we go deeper?’ suggested Katherine. ‘Re-enter the ancient tunnels and hide out there?’
‘Hide inside what they’ve come here to seize? Pardon me for being critical Katherine but…’
