Five Empires: An Epic Space Opera
Page 12
The mournful wail of the dying ship was almost too loud for comfort. Michael was forced to block his ears as the craft disappeared over the trees, astoundingly low. Most warships never needed to land planet-side. That was what orbital dockyards were for.
Michael looked at Jake. “Will they survive an ocean crash landing?”
Le Sondre shrugged. “Only one way to find out,” he said. “Kid, I don’t think we’re black flags. Yet. We iced those corsairs before they could report back. I’m thinkin’ we could rally some of those survivors.”
Michael felt a surge of adrenalin. He still harbored savage ill-will toward the Cava05. A rage that needed to be satiated.
“Will the Cava05 send ground troops to eliminate survivors?”
“Of course they will. We can either bunker down in this jungle or see how long our luck holds out.”
Michael exchanged a look with the Nostroma. He saw mischief there. He couldn’t hope to know how a cybomancer’s mind worked but this one seemed intent on feeding off his emotional meltdown. Whatever the twisted mechanics of their relationship, he felt they could be an effective combination.
Jake suddenly launched himself up the uopa fig tree, clambering up boughs like a sand monkey. Poking his head through the flat canopy, he peered through his nocs.
An almighty crash to the west signaled the warship’s impact against the ocean surface.
“Not far… not far at all…”
The Nostroma consulted his wrist pad, deep in thought.
“What is it?” Michael called.
“I’ll show you, kid, but I need a proper dive suit.”
“Then we should pass through the first settlement we find on the west coast,” Michael said.
“There, you see, your brain is finally starting to hum.”
Jake hacked a path through the central Samalar jungle as dawn painted the morning sky pink and orange. The advent of day masked much of the devastating battle over Cerulean, but there were still traces of propulsion afterglow.
Michael tried to transfer his mind from the bleeding sky to Jake’s lanky form a few yards in front of him. The pair made solid progress through the thickest part of the jungle and soon reached undulating, lightly wooded terrain.
The ground storey opened out and within two hours they were trotting down the slope. A shabby fishing village was visible on the beach below. At length they were skulking through thick savorah shrubs on the outskirts of the settlement.
Michael was breathing hard even though he was very fit. Jake had hardly broken a sweat. The Nostroma was listening intently for village activity. Most of the human inhabitants were down on the beach, presumably speculating on the crashed Aegisi warship.
“Opportunity beckons,” Jake said, sliding through the open window of a two-storey hab.
“I wish you wouldn’t do that,” Michael groaned, but he was talking to the air.
At length Jake reappeared with a dirty-looking dive suit.
“Most of these fishing families have several,” he said as he removed his emerald green utility suit and beloved trench coat. Once he was dressed in the scruffy dive suit he took great care to store his regular clothing and weaponry in a watertight sheath at his back. The final step was to fit a standard respirator over his face.
“Fuckin’ hate these things,” he muttered, his voice muffled. “Once we’re in, use the general com. It’s chaos out there and we want the Aegisi marines to know we’re there to help.”
Michael nodded, looking forward to being back in the water. The pair hurried through the village without incident. Considering what had just fallen from the sky, the sight of a disheveled Aegisi and a tall man in a dive suit wasn’t particularly surprising. Grateful to be left alone, the pair took to the heaving surf, abnormally wild in the wake of the warship’s crash landing.
Though he was more familiar with placid freshwater, Michael dived underneath the huge, crushing swells with ease. As an amphibian he was elite wherever water was concerned. He had an innate sense of how water liked to move and how it liked to settle. He glided through the water like a bullet, glad to finally show Jake what he could do. The Nostroma was stroking valiantly through the surf but was clearly out of his element.
Michael hugged the sandy sea floor as he made his way beyond the wave zone. He could see the looming mass of a coral reef to the south. If things were different he might have explored every nook and cranny. He could feel a familiar excitement flooding through him - the thrill of discovery.
For the first time since he’d landed on Cerulean, Michael felt in his element. Emilia still preyed on the edged of his mind, but down here on the cool ocean floor he could almost deceive himself that everything was going to be all right.
Enjoying the flow of water over his svelte Aegisi form, the forager slowed his pace to allow Jake to catch up. The lanky alien emerged from the blue murk and nodded.
Michael gave a thumbs-up and configured his wrist pad.
The pair stroked further west, marking an abrupt increase in depth. Samalar Island had a thin continental shelf, which was unsurprising on a planet with such limited landmass.
A dark abyss opened out before them, cold and threatening.
Michael dived, but not too sharply. Instinct suggested the warship was further out. He stroked powerfully into the gloom, enjoying the simple sound of his internal gill filtration.
At length his keen eyes spotted a shimmering patina of light far below them. He dived deeper and more details revealed themselves. Quadrangles of light extended along the ocean floor. There was an immense hull down there. The hull of a defeated warship.
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Michael pressed further, marveling at the sheer size of the wreck. Apart from a huge chunk of foredeck, most of the hull was intact. It had tipped over and exposed its underside. Michael could make out one or two ragged tears in the metal. One particularly deep gash had exposed the propulsion core. It would be hazardous to linger in this place.
Just as Michael was about to warn Jake there was a tremor in the water. The forager was finely attuned to the slightest shift in current and knew there were people approaching.
The settling hull spat swimmers from one of its wounds. Thirty, forty, fifty Aegisi corsairs armed with blasters. They swarmed the explorers and leveled their weapons.
Varosk paused, deep in thought.
The captain grunted.
Varosk took another close look at Jake.
Jake said. le thank you would suffice.>
Varosk looked hard at Jake before making a decision. There was a slim chance the Captain knew about the gunfight on Samalar. Hopefully he didn’t know too many details. Just enough to believe that human mercs had been the perpetrators.
Varosk looked doubtfully at Michael, but his eyes widened a little when he saw the customized body armor. Michael seized the opportunity.
Varosk laughed out loud, a short, sharp sound.
Jake said.
All eyes turned to the Nostroma. Even Michael wasn’t sure how the Nostroma could possible make good on that promise.
No one dared utter a word. The Yeneri name carried some weight in Aegisi circles but not much was known about them.
Varosk nodded at one of his troops, who planted a blaster against Jake’s respirator.
Varosk considered for a moment.
A couple of Varosk’s sergeants snickered dutifully, but Jake showed no sign of being rattled. Michael was beginning to think that he was brain damaged.
Varosk’s eyes widened.
And with that, the tall Nostroma began stroking away into the cold murk. Michael followed, his instinct telling him the corsairs would follow. They could either surrender or run some kind of kamikaze operation against overwhelming odds. This third alternative at least provided a tiny sliver of hope. The promise of ancient Yeneri tech would have appealed to the Captain, though Jake had hinted it wasn’t really a military facility.
Sure enough, slim, agile bodies appeared to either side of Michael. The blasters had gone but the forager knew that he and Jake were under the heaviest of surveillance.
Jake led the remnants of the Aegisi battalion north, away from the stricken vessel. An occasional boom resounded from inside the hull, suggesting ruptured power supplies.
Michael shivered, and not just because of the extreme depth. Logic suggested there were two main threats in the open ocean. First, the Cava05. They were surely running reconnaissance over this section of ocean, combing for Aegisi survivors. Second, there was the threat of oceanic wildlife. Michael knew that bowhead whales were both large and aggressive, particularly when their spawning grounds were challenged.
He peered through the gloom nervously, hoping, like Varosk, that they weren’t too far from their destination. At length a hulking mass rose from the gloom - a rocky ridge line. Jake picked up speed, stroking over the top of the jagged ridge. Michael maintained his position on his shoulder, scanning the open, sandy sea floor that stretched before them.
Michael could - square shapes only just visible through the sand. They were filtration gates, hundreds of them.
The soldiers approached the ancient gates and began searching for latches or other means of opening them.
Michael grinned as he inspected one of the gates. At first glance it was a flat surface with no irregular features. Jake found a small depression on the right side of the gate, then went to check another.
Michael pressed his index finger directly into the concave bowl and felt a tiny pinprick. He drew his hand away and the gate glowed green around its edge. The soldiers were activating several of the other gates the same way.
Michael’s gate slid open and sent a long column of light into the darkness. The ocean thundered into a huge, seemingly bottomless chamber. Michael almost fell through the gate, not expecting to find so much air. Some of the Aegisi corsairs weren’t so lucky, screaming as they fell through the gates.
The sheer volume of ocean had quickly filled the bright chamber. Varosk barked orders to his men, cajoling them to stay alert despite the ‘wild goose chase’. This Captain was starting to get on Michael’s nerves.
The forager dived confidently, head first. He penetrated the water comfortably, seamlessly easing into a long stroke. Tremors in the water told him the other soldiers were following suit. The bright chamber was curious to say the least. The embedded light tubes were pointed outward, designed to draw attention away from the thousands of capsules lining the walls.
Every capsule contained a desiccated corpse hunched over in a fetal position. Most were filled with air but a small minority had some kind of blue gel. The corpses in those capsules appeared to be better preserved than the others.
There could be no doubt - these were the fabled Yeneri.
Michael was fascinated with the discovery and was contemplating a more thorough investigation but Varosk and his men were intent on reaching the bottom of the chamber.
Of course, he was right. The forager followed the others through a wide, oblong-shaped hole at the bottom of the chamber. The soldiers were crammed into a long, circular corridor that ran north-south.
The architecture of the Yeneri facility was not completely foreign to Michael. There were signs of the flowing lines and near-complete circles that the Aegisi themselves favored.
It was apparent that the entrance they’d come through wasn’t an entrance at all - it was a flooding mechanism, to be used when the facility was under attack. It was slightly ironic that the first beings to enter the facility in over a thousand years were, like the Yeneri, a rare sentient water-breathing species.
At length the party passed through an air-water membrane and walked into a wide, high-ceilinged chamber. Ventilation shafts in the ceiling appeared to be functional. Michael’s hopes rose when he saw a series of dashboards fixed to the wall.
A soldier managed to activate one and a rotisserie of blaster rifles extended itself from a recess in the
wall.
The party moved north into a second corridor, this one free from ocean water.
Michael noticed some of the soldiers smiling at each other. The corridor admitted to another chamber, this one rather featureless.
The soldiers combed the walls carefully. Just as Varosk was about to bellow for them all to move on there was a strange hissing noise. Some kind of technician’s station emerged from the wall.
Michael scrolled through the menu with a twitch of his finger, stopping at what he thought looked like a shield. Heart in his mouth, he punched the icon. An entire section of wall slid into the ceiling to reveal an advanced work bay. Not many of the soldiers knew what they were looking at but Michael recognized a fully equipped Yeneri forge. The best thing about the work bay was its self-sufficiency - the user wasn’t required to supply his own materials.
“Hell yeah,” Michael said as he scrolled through the various options. There were several templates he might have selected, but instead he chose a customized output. To his great delight there were thousands of materials available. Everything from proteins to polymers to special alloys.
He was tempted to experiment with materials he’d never seen before but chose to stick with his own recipe. The only forced change was the use of salt water kelp instead of the freshwater variety he’d pressed back on Solitude. He mapped out an optimal work flow and set the forge to work.
The fabrication of the first piece of armor took time. Varosk made allowances, attracted to the idea of tougher armor for his troops. Michael waited nervously in the work bay as a series of hums resonated from somewhere behind the polished walls. Jake didn’t help matters by leaning against the wall and humming the same tune over and over.