Return to Dakistee (A Galaxy Unknown, Book 8)

by Thomas DePrima

  "I don't know. I certainly hope so."

  Christa was only halfway through her breakfast when she received a message from Lt. Uronson."

  "Commander," Uronson said, "I'm topside at the tunnel entrance. There's a large contingent walking across the base from the direction of the current dig location."

  "I'll be right up," Christa said. "Carver out." To Gracie, she said rhetorically, "What now?" and then grimaced as she pushed her tray away, stood up, and stepped away from the table.

  Carmoody did likewise and the two officers hurried out of the mess hall.

  Upon reaching the surface, they saw an enormous group of Terrans and Nordakians, perhaps as many as a hundred, standing about ten meters from the tunnel entrance where the sentries had halted them. The four Marines were aiming their weapons towards the crowd, but so far their fingers were only on the trigger guards because the crowd had stopped when ordered to do so.

  Christa walked forward until she was less than two meters from the group. As she scanned the faces of the crowd, she realized she recognized all but one. She naturally knew all the members of the original scientific group and their clones. Also in the group were the dig site labor supervisor, his chief assistant, several lesser assistant labor foremen, and the site's emergency medical technician. The one person Christa didn't recognize was a woman who would stand out in any crowd. She appeared to be about twenty-two or twenty-three and stood out not only because of her attractive looks, but because while the others were all dressed in work clothes she was wearing a very expensive business suit. Christa thought she might be from Expedition Headquarters here on the planet, or even a representative from Anthius. Looking at Dr. Peterson, who, as usual, was front center, she said, "What is this, Doctor?"

  "We want to enter the facility we found."

  "That's not possible yet. You know that."

  "Just what have you found, Commander, that we're not allowed to see? We're hearing all sorts of rumors. We know you've been successful in gaining entrance, so it's about time you came clean."

  "As you speculated, I have been able to enter the facility. I'm sure you realized the situation had changed when the Marine presence here was upgraded. But I can’t yet allow any civilians to enter because we haven't finished our investigations. Until I do, I can't deem it safe for you to enter. Plus I don’t yet know if the facility contains contraband material that must be protected from falling into the wrong hands."

  "You're saying we're the wrong hands?"

  "Anyone who's not legally authorized to posses such material is the wrong hands, Doctor. Since you don’t have permission from the Galactic Council to possess contraband material, yours would be the wrong hands."

  "But I do have permission."

  "What? What do you mean?"

  "I have special permission from the Galactic Alliance Chairman to be granted immediate access to the facility and the right to examine any and all artifacts found inside."

  "I'd like to see proof of that. Do you have any with you?"

  "I do." Holding out a holo-magazine cylinder, he said," Here it is, Commander."

  Christa accepted the cylinder and a document sprung up along the cylinder's length as she activated it. It was a bit difficult to see in the bright light from the rising sun, but she was able to make out the message.

  "This is just a general letter stating you have permission to view any artifacts on the planet. It doesn't address the subject of contraband."

  "It states that I have permission to view any artifacts. It doesn't exclude artifacts that may be considered contraband."

  "Neither does it include them," Christa said. "I see this letter was signed by a third deputy assistant to the Chairman of the GA Council. Even if it was signed by the GA Chairman personally, it wouldn't override GA laws governing possession and access to contraband property."

  "So you're going to ignore our rights?"

  "No, I'm going to continue to protect them, as is my duty. That duty requires me to see that unauthorized persons don't acquire or possess contraband materials, and that's what I'm going to do to the best of my ability. No letter from a clerk in the GAC Chairman's office abrogates the law."

  "We don’t want to possess contraband material, we just want to examine it— in your presence of course."

  "The last time you examined something you should have left alone, the consequences were almost disastrous. I personally appreciate that they resulted in my birth, but the outcome could have been far different. Technically, you have already violated GA law regarding the possession of contraband because you didn't notify Space Command as soon as you discovered the facility. Instead, you spent weeks trying to open it. You could still be charged because you knew the facility itself was sheathed in Dakinium, which is a crime to possess. However, since you were unable to break in, no charges are currently being considered."

  "We didn't possess that facility; it was simply there."

  "It's located on the Loudescott dig site. You were aware of its presence and didn’t notify Space Command immediately. That technically makes it a crime. But as I said, I'm not pursuing criminal charges at this time— although I still could." Christa hoped the implication was loud and clear. Her only desire was for an end to the verbal sparring, but Dr. Peterson didn't seem disposed to give up that easily.

  "Commander, we both know Space Command isn't going to act on such a charg…"

  Peterson stopped in mid-sentence as a fighter aircraft suddenly roared over the dig site. The mean-looking little ship had approached at treetop level without warning and the startled spectators were frozen in their positions as it overflew the site from the direction of the current dig. It had hardly passed when a second appeared from the same direction. Although the first had only disturbed the morning quiet, the second began to spit death as soon as it came into range. The first rounds struck the dig area where laborers were toiling to remove millennia of soil deposits, but as it passed over the Marine base location, hundreds of lattice rounds pounded the ground just behind the civilians massed to demand access to the facility.

  The military personnel, trained to react quickly, didn't waste time gawking at the fighter. They opened fire with their laser rifles as Christa screamed for the civilians to get undercover in the tunnel. When they simply stared at her dumbly, she began to physically drag a couple towards the entrance. The others finally got the idea and galloped towards the safety of the underground facility as a third fighter appeared above the site and fired its lattice weapons with abandon.

  Some of the civilians tripped and fell, but the ones behind them never stopped running. Those who made it to safety left behind a bloody trail of trampled injured. As the third fighter disappeared from view, Christa and the Marines began helping the hurt civilians get to their feet and start again towards the tunnel. A few seemed to be seriously injured, but Christa and the Marines didn't have the luxury of leaving them where they'd fallen while medical help was summoned, so they picked them up and carried them into the relative safety of the tunnel as another fighter began to strafe the site.

  From a position just inside the tunnel entrance, Christa watched as the dig site laborers who had continued to perform their usual tasks during her confrontation with the civilians now jumped out of their excavation holes and ran for the safety of the tunnel while others continued to cower in the dig site cavities.

  "Doctor Johannes," Christa said as she activated a carrier for her CT. When he responded, she said, "We have an emergency topside. Fighter aircraft are strafing the camp. We have numerous injured. We need every doctor and nurse in the camp up here. Now!"

  "We're on our way, Commander. Johannes out."

  "Carver out."

  Christa stepped from the cover of the tunnel to wave the labors on towards safety, although little encouragement was needed. At least they were spread out enough that they weren't tripping over and trampling their fellows.

  There were still too many civilians in the open when the next fighter ap
proached, and many racing for safety fell as lattice rounds rained down on the base. With so many dig site people exposed and running for cover, the fighter began to deploy the small rockets and bombs that had remained nestled beneath its wings until then. As it passed overhead, explosions rippled across the dig site. Tongues of flame reached skyward and black smoke billowed wherever the bombs or rockets landed, while dirt, rocks, and shrapnel briefly filled the air.

  As the fighter passed overhead, Christa and the Marines again hurried out towards the fallen civilians, trying to staunch the flow of blood from gaping wounds while carrying the victims to the relative safety of the tunnel.

  * * *

  Chapter Fifteen

  ~ October 24th, 2285 ~

  Christa was near the camp perimeter when the next fighter appeared. She had no choice but to temporarily abandon the wounded and dive into the perimeter trench as a pattern of lattice rounds began to stitch the ground towards her, kicking dirt and small rocks into the air. But as soon the fighter passed overhead, she was out of the trench and racing towards a fallen victim.

  It seemed like a never-ending activity as more and more of the laborers who had been cowering in their dig holes finally realized the open pits offered only a modicum of safety from the death raining down upon them. Each time a fighter completed a flyover, laborers would leap up and race towards the tunnel entrance. When a new fighter appeared, they dove headlong into the nearest excavation until it was safe to run again. It was unfortunate that there were no foxholes in the base compound and that the trench was a hundred meters from the tunnel entrance, but neither Christa nor Uronson had ever contemplated an aerial attack such as this one.

  As the number of injured outside the tunnel had grown, several of the Marines had put down their weapons and concentrated on getting the wounded under cover, but as the flow began to ebb, they picked up their weapons and added their strength to those who had continued the return fire. One fighter was damaged enough to break off its attack and another crashed into the forest a few kilometers beyond the area cleared for the dig site.

  The fighters continued to make pass after pass, but everyone left alive was finally inside the tunnel. A number of wounded whom Christa didn't expect would survive had been carried into the tunnel so the medical people could try to save them.

  From her vantage point inside the tunnel entrance, Christa could see at least two dozen bodies within the camp perimeter. Every one of them had been checked for a pulse before being left on the field. It was impossible to check the entire dig-site because the cover was so limited and the attacks were so frequent.

  "Who's attacking us, Commander?" Christa heard from behind. Recognizing the voice as belonging to Carmoody, Christa said, "I don't know, Gracie. All I really know for sure is that the fighters are a Nordakian design."

  "Nordakian? But they're part of the Galactic Alliance."

  "The attackers aren't Nordakian military. That ship design was retired decades ago and the Nordakians never mounted lattice cannons on any of their ships. Someone apparently got their hands on some old fighters, probably part of a scrap salvage deal that had been stripped of their original weapons. They repaired the ships and then rearmed them with illegal weapons. The lattice cannons probably came from some rogue arms merchants. At least I hope they were rogue. The Tsgardi are well known for illegal arms sales. I'd hate to think the Tsgardi still haven't learned their lesson."

  "They must be Raiders then," Carmoody said.

  "At first glance that seems like a logical deduction, but…"

  "But?"

  "I don't know, Gracie. What reason would Raiders have to attack us?"

  "Maybe they believe we found more cloning equipment."

  "Perhaps. But their intel is usually highly reliable. It doesn't make sense that they would attack us only on speculation that we might have discovered something."

  "Maybe it's because you've been so tightlipped about the discovery. They might figure it's something so big that you're afraid to let it be known until Space Command can get here in force."

  Christa breathed in deeply and then released it slowly as another fighter made a pass over the site. "Perhaps. But killing innocent civilians like this is completely out of character, even for them."

  The next fighter to pass over the site would never return to its base. As every Marine on the ground with a laser rifle poured fire into its hull, someone must have struck a fuel cylinder. The fighter exploded in a huge fireball that sent an expanding orb of flame and smoke skyward while a shower of detritus rained down on the camp.

  Finally, the fighters seemed to realize there were no more living targets and that their numbers were being whittled down more and more. They broke off their attack and disappeared over the tree line.

  The dig site was in ruins. Smoke billowed from dozens of fires as anything flammable burned uncontrollably. The dig site shelters and mess hall were ablaze, as were the small vehicles used around the site. A small warehouse used to store collected items was a roaring inferno and black, acrid smoke rose skyward from its location. Every few seconds a small popping sound could be heard as small fuel cylinders and sealed containers succumbed to the heat.

  "I need a medic," Christa said loudly, "to perform a final check on the bodies outside. The fighters have left."

  "I'll do it, Commander," a nurse offered.

  "Thank you. Signal us if you find anyone alive."

  Christa looked at two Marines standing near her and caught their eye, then nodded her head in the direction of the nurse. They understood and hurried after her with their weapons ready in case the fighters returned.

  Christa waited until the nurse and Marines returned, then nodded as she listened to the report.

  "All deceased, Commander. They never had a chance. The wounds were all located in places that either killed them instantly or caused them to bleed out in minutes."

  "Thank you, Nurse…"

  "Gibson, Commander."

  Christa nodded. "Thank you, Gibson. Carry on."

  "What now, Commander?" Carmoody asked after Gibson turned her attention to the wounded in the tunnel.

  "It's doubtful anybody would attack with fighters and then simply leave. It's more likely they were just softening us up a bit so we'd be too disorganized to resist a ground assault."

  "A ground assault? Are you serious?"

  "I'm afraid so."

  "What can we do? We only have half a squad of Marines."

  "We retreat, as we did when the Tsgardi Raiders attacked us at Fort Carver. We pull back and seal the facility. Whoever is responsible for the attack is going to get quite a shock when they come down the tunnel, which is another reason I doubt the attackers are Raiders. The Raiders knew the futility of attacking us like this. They would have done something to catch us unaware before we could bottle ourselves inside. And whoever was commanding those fighters wasn't trained for the job."

  "How can you possibly know that?"

  "There was too much of a gap between strafing runs. Their goal seemed to be to kill as many people as possible, but the time gap allowed most of the dig site people to reach the tunnel in safety. It indicates that their commander didn't have either the experience or training for such an attack."

  "It seemed pretty effective to me."

  "It was deadly, but not as deadly as it could have been. Come on. Let's get everybody down below."

  Christa began walking among the wounded and informing the medical people that everyone had to get inside the facility.

  "A few of these people can't be moved until we get them stabilized," Doctor Johannes said.

  "I expect the attackers to return any minute, Doctor. Try to get them ready as quickly as possible or we'll have to leave them."

  "Leave them? Are you serious?"

  "It's either leave a few behind and save the hundreds who are uninjured or ambulatory, or possibly lose everyone."

  "Very well. Give me as much time as you can and then we'll move them rather th
an simply leaving them behind to be killed."

  "Okay, Doc. That's what I hoped you'd say."

  Christa and Carmoody helped the medical people move the less critically wounded, with the dig site laborers pitching in to carry those not able to walk on their own. Within fifteen minutes, the tunnel was cleared of all civilian personnel except the few too seriously injured to be moved safely. The two Space Command officers returned to the tunnel entrance.

  Addressing one of the Marines, Christa said, "Where's Lt. Uronson, Lance Corporal?"

  "The Lieutenant was injured, Ma'am. I think he's in the rotunda."

  "Injured? Is it serious?"

  "Serious enough, ma'am. He was carrying a wounded civilian towards the tunnel when he caught a lattice round. As I understand, it kinda skittered along his rib cage, cutting away the flesh pretty bad. The doc said he'll recover, but he's gonna be plenty sore for a few weeks."

  "I'm glad it wasn't fatal. Too bad you didn't have time to get into your armor."

  "Yes, Ma'am. They sure did catch us flat-footed."

  "Keep a sharp eye on the tree line, Lance Corporal. If you see any movement, it might indicate an assault wave is headed this way. Tell Doctor Johannes immediately and then pull back into the facility. Understand?"

  "Yes, ma'am."

  "I'll be in the rotunda. Carry on."

  Christa was shocked when she entered the Rotunda. It was filled from wall to wall with frightened and injured civilians, and at least one injured Marine. Lt. Uronson was propped against a wall with the other injured and Christa had to push her way through to reach him.