Frontier Effects: Book 1

by Mars Dorian

  Dead.

  The word scratched Quintan’s nerves like a tactical blade. He didn’t want to believe his brother would die like that after everything they had survived during the war.

  And still, the worry grew like a cancer cell.

  Those idiots on Mars had dispatched a deep scout frigate with no military escort. The Exo Protectorate Martian division’s ill-intended caution to avoid provoking the alien would cost his brother’s life. Quintan swallowed down his worst fear and focused back on the Brigadier General’s holograph.

  Rykan said, “If we don’t hear from the crew within the next seventy-two standard hours, we will send a division. We won’t let our men and women die on some exoplanet while Mars stays idle.”

  She spoke from the deepest corners of his heart.

  Rykan, his mental mirror image.

  The sister savior.

  “Thank you, ma’am.”

  “Now for some good news: you’re making steady progress in the simulations. Your average mission goal score is about ninety-two percent, ranking you within grade A levels.”

  No surprise. Quintan had spent every waking hour on mastering the simulations. Frustration and anger motivated him to push his mind and body beyond his body scanner’s health advisory. “Thank you,” he said with lack of emotion to avoid sounding needy.

  “Why don’t we celebrate our success with a bottle of Chardonnay and faux Kobo beef? I know a stellar Earth-style food print venue in the entertainment section.”

  Quintan hesitated. Did his commanding officer just ask him out on an official date? He may have been far from home and sex with maidbots grew old, but getting into an affair with his superior seemed like a dangerous career move. On the other hand, he needed some distraction from his brother’s lack of news. Brooding over Tavio’s disappearance would drown him in depression, and he felt exhausted from dwelling in the darkness. He wanted some light to brighten the pain. Besides, a dinner wasn’t an affair. Playing with sexual tension didn’t need to involve physical sex.

  “Is that an order, Brigadier General?”

  Rykan’s posture eased up for the first time since her holographic transfer. “A suggestion.”

  “We can meet at the main entrance gate once I’m finished,” Quintan said and made it sound like a confident statement. He wanted to make sure the conversation ended on his terms.

  “Splendid,” Rykan answered with a sharp smile. “Better get some clothes on by then.”

  She winked. Her hologram disappeared from his augmented vision with a soft hiss.

  “We’ll see,” Quintan said to himself with no one around.

  Silence lingered for a couple of seconds.

  He set up a time alert on his comlink and added twenty more kilograms to his weight. If he was going to engage whatever lurked on E405, he needed to be in the best shape of his life.

  43//E405

  Fifteen percent.

  The red number glowed on Tavio’s lower-right HUD display, together with the urgent warning to refill his oxygen supply.

  Now.

  A quick exchange with Bellrog showed the captain wasn’t the only one running low on life support. A few more hours in the chamber, and the crew would choke. It sounded pathetic, given how they survived traveling to an unknown star and had escaped a skirmish with an alien race.

  Tavio plotted.

  Meanwhile, the creature called Hōshi cowered in the corner with her eyes swapping back and forth. Ever curious, but also sensitive and defensive. So far Tavio had tolerated her spiel because she belonged to a different species, but with every percentage of oxygen vanishing, so did his empathy.

  “You know, if you’re not willing to talk to us, you can at least stop staring. It’s freaky.”

  “Sir,” Dr. Eriksun said from her crossed-leg lotus position.

  Tavio also grew tired of Eriksun’s scoldings.

  “She is sorry,” Hōshi finally said.

  “Sorry doesn’t save us. If we run out of oxygen, we’re going to die. All three of us.”

  “She can try to send another message. The Collective listens. They always do.”

  It sounded like a hopeless proposal, but any attempt was better than sitting around doing nothing. Tavio ignored the blinking oxygen warning and hated himself for being so clueless. If his brother, Quintan, had been in the situation, he would have found a way out of here.

  Bellrog said, “Sir, what’s your plan?”

  Tavio’s glaze picked the force field. “If we could only discharge the barrier, we’d at least find a way to leave the holding cell.”

  “Then what? We have no weapons and no clue where exactly we are. The second we’re free, they’d sent another drone dispatch after us.”

  Possible. The mysterious life form possessed state-of-the-art bot hunters which could kill the crew in the blink of a nano-enhanced eye. “Open for suggestions.”

  Bellrog whispered. “Don’t you notice anything unusual about the creature?”

  “You mean apart from being an alien?”

  “Her cybernetic skin looks like the circuit pattern designs of the drones and tanks.”

  He exchanged the footage he had taken with his helmet cam over the comlink. Bellrog zoomed into the armor of the floating battle platforms. Indeed, the surface design resembled the interior design of the chambers and the imprisoned life form.

  “She also claims to be in telepathic contact with the ones in charge, which means the captors have the same communication technology.”

  A puzzle completed in Tavio’s mind. “The captors are of the same race.”

  Bellrog nodded with a sufficient smile and dared another glance at the creature in the corner. “She doesn’t seem armed, and we’re three geared up units with exoskeletons on.”

  Tavio followed the end of the soldier’s thought train and didn’t like it. “You want to take her hostage?”

  “The ones she calls the collective didn’t kill her, so they have some interest in keeping her alive. We should use that to our advantage.”

  Dr. Eriksun’s hissed. Even though she had been sitting meters away, she seemed to have eavesdropped on the entire conversation. “Under no circumstances.”

  “Let’s be real. Sitting on our asses and waiting for help isn’t gonna get us out of here.”

  “We came here as explorers, not as terrorists.”

  “Tell that to the creatures hunting us with drones and tanks.”

  “You shot first,” Eriksun said with an edge to her voice.

  “Defense,” Bellrog said. “And again, the captain gave the go. You should understand chain of command by now.”

  Tavio O-shaped his mouth. “Boom.”

  Both officers looked at him with bewildered eyes. “Sir?”

  “It’s called a pattern interrupt. It’s used to break up someone’s emotional routine, like when two hotheads are blowing up.”

  Hints of shame bloomed behind their face shields.

  Tavio harrumphed. “They’re watching us, right, Hōshi? Do they also understand our language like you do?”

  “Yes,” the creature said from its corner. “They’re learning the ways of the humans through Hōshi.”

  Tavio wanted to believe the creatures in charge had a similar set of morals as her, so he tried to appeal to their empathy.

  “To whomever it may concern—if we don’t get our oxygen soon, we’re going to die. Dematerialize. Vanish. Whatever you call it. And if we do, my race will retaliate. They will send a fleet here and start a war with you.”

  He paused and chose the next words carefully. “We don’t want to hurt you, and since you left us alive so far, I assume the feeling is mutual. Whatever problems you have with us, let’s deal with them in a diplomatic matter.”

  It wasn’t Tavio’s style to threaten with military punishment, but his scenario was likely if the alien didn’t comply. If he and his crew died, the possible peace treaty between the Alliance and the so-called collective would evaporate before it was eve
r established. The first interstellar war would arise. And judging by the collective’s advanced technology, they must have been smart enough to realize that, too.

  Tavio waited in the center of the chamber, but no answer was forthcoming. He let his gaze travel to Hōshi in the corner. “Did they even listen?”

  She raised her head from her knees. “They always listen.”

  Tavio wanted to believe his speech had triggered some sort of reaction, but the alien in charge seemed oblivious to his attempt. He returned to his crew corner and planted his butt down in utter disappointment.

  “It was worth a try,” Dr. Eriksun said.

  Bellrog’s flat response seemed to differ, but what was Tavio supposed to do?

  He was trying to come up with another solution when a mysterious figure appeared meters in front of the force field.

  44

  The new creature resembled Hōshi in almost every way; a slender, tall figure with elongated arms and elfin features. A similar circuit pattern seemed to run through her half-organic, half-cybernetic body, right up to the triangular face where no mouth was discernible. But Tavio did spot differences: the new creature seemed two heads taller than Hōshi, somewhat bulkier, and had a slightly different pattern on her synthetic skin. Her arms appeared bulkier and longer. Next to her left shoulder floated a triangle-shaped drone with a double-barreled device extended.

  Tavio stood up and walked toward his side of the force field. He raised his hand and hoped the new specimen would understand the interstellar gesture of peace. “My name is Tavio Alterra, and I’m the Lieutenant Comm—”

  “She knows who he is. They watch him invading the cluster.”

  She did sound like Hōshi with more edge. Tavio ignored the creature’s attitude and played his best self. “Our race found your signal and send us to initiate contact. We came in peace.”

  Tavio realized he suddenly sounded like Dr. Eriksun, but given the turn of events, that was probably the best choice. The military attitude had only triggered aggressive countermeasures.

  The creature of the Collective stood silently and eyed him with her jet-black eyes. They glinted with a shade of blue. “The aliens will follow her to the launch base where their supply lies. They will act in peace. Can he promise?”

  Tavio realized the creature was talking about him and his crew, which sounded strangely amusing since she was the alien from a human’s point of view. “Yes,” he said, willing to utter almost everything that would get them away from the chamber.

  The new creature tilted her head, stepped back a couple of meters and somehow disabled the energy barrier—probably via mind command.

  “They will move slowly or they will be shot.”

  The angular drone hovered around Tavio as if to stress the point. Judging from its oval-shaped double-barrel, it seemed to be equipped with a directed-energy cannon.

  “Clear as translucent aluminum,” Tavio said and bowed his head like a Mooner, similar to how the doctor communicated with Hōshi. These creatures seemed to embrace a personal space that was at least twice as big as cultures on Earth preferred. Tavio swore to keep a two meter distance to avoid any hostile reactions from their side. The creature walked backwards to keep her front faced to his. “Follow her.”

  He waved over his team who hurried toward his side.

  “Where’s she taking us?” Bellrog asked.

  “I don’t know—a launch base maybe,” he whispered. “Doesn’t matter—as long as it’s out of here.”

  Maybe the life form could produce oxygen. Tavio hoped she had understood his request and wasn’t toying with their lives. Again, he had to trust the unknown.

  The new creature headed toward the right corridor where the second barrier had dissipated as well. She kept her eyes locked on Tavio, like an invisible chain that couldn’t be split.

  “What about her?” Dr. Eriksun said and pointed toward Hōshi in the corner.

  The creature in charge focused on her. “She betrays the trust and must redeem her standing.”

  Eriksun nodded. “She’s been very helpful. Maybe she can act as a translator in case we misunderstand each other?”

  Tavio cherished the idea. Despite Hōshi’s sensitive behavior, she was fascinated about the human race and searched for constructive ways to communicate, unlike the unit standing in front of him now.

  “Unnecessary.”

  The doctor expressed a silent sorry toward Hōshi. The two had become interspecies friends over the past hours. Eriksun could empathize with these life forms. Tavio needed to learn from her.

  The new creature said, “The aliens come with her. They respect their ways or else will be kept in the cube.”

  “Done deal,” he said and shot a thumb up, which seemed to scare the creature. It yanked back with its torso while the drone burst forward, ready to shoot, dart, burn, or whatever its weapons did.

  Okay, Tavio said to himself, no brash movements. Keep it slow and avoid the go-attitude. It doesn’t belong here.

  “Sorry, it’s a human gesture.”

  The tension sizzled but the creature moved on, head still pointed at the captain’s direction.

  Tavio and his crew followed the unit through the corridors of the prison. The flying drone kept a security distance and rotated its optical sensors toward their position like a cybernetic eagle—weapons probably on stand-by. Despite being temporarily released from prison, Tavio realized he was still maneuvering around a minefield.

  45

  They traveled through a creamy-white, hexagon-shaped corridor where the ground moved forward like an invisible stairway. The plate mechanism was touch sensitive and changed according to one’s position. Tavio activated his helmet’s record function and took it all in—the sentinel drone, the creature in the charge, and the interior design. If he was going to get out of there alive, he’d have footage the Alliance could chew on for decades.

  While Dr. Eriksun seemed busy interacting with her surroundings, Tavio focused exclusively on the leader. “Do you have a name? It’s what we humans use to identify ourselves.”

  “Names are useless in their culture, but they know humans still rely on verbal identification. He will call her Chikara. A tag taken from a sub-culture on his home planet.”

  Tavio wondered about the human sub-culture she was referring to. Chikara didn’t sound Indo-European.

  “They study human cultures. The language they call Japanese is the closest to their understanding of verbal communication.”

  Japanese. The Collective must have somehow spied on Earth or the Moon while tapping into the Alliance communication channels to soak up the human languages. These aliens even understood the nuances between human cultures. Tavio realized this race proved to be more advanced than he had anticipated. It could turn out in his favor, or end up as his worst nightmare.

  “Great, so Chikara it’s going to be. And do you have a rank?”

  Her black iris stayed the same shape—a jewel-shaped darkness. “They do not use ranks, only temporary positions of focus.”

  Tavio wanted to excuse his question, but the creature acted faster than him. “Chikara, main cluster defense entity.”

  Okay, he thought. Some military-style defense position. He could work with that. In fact, the more he learned about the Collective, the more similarities he found between humans and their race. It meant their moral framework had to be somewhat close; hopefully, close enough to find a diplomatic solution.

  The group entered an automatic lift which levitated with little vibration. Its curved door parted with a soft hum and allowed a peek into an enormous hall with dagger-shaped objects being parked vertically. Among the collection of alien vessels, Tavio spotted the Moonshot’s dropship in all its glory. Bellrog whistled like a boy rediscovering his favorite toy.

  Chikara said, “Sentinels find it in the jungle near the beacon. They take it to the hangar to avoid rising attention.”

  “Attention?”

  Chikara didn’t elaborate. Like Hō
shi, she always spoke in third person present tense, which either sprang from an error in translation or related to their thinking process. Tavio wanted to dive deeper into the conversation but his oxygen supply had dropped to 11.3%. The HUD flickered the skull icon in alarming red. “Can we check our supply?”

  “They ought to do so.”

  With a quick voice command and a biometric scan, the shuttle allowed Tavio to access its treasures again. The vessel’s cargo door opened up and released its loading ramp. Bellrog hurried inside while Dr. Eriksun started talking to the defense entity. Hopefully she could extract vital information that would help the team understand the strange but fascinating race.

  Tavio wanted to slide his attention back to the shuttle when he noticed movement in the far way sections of the hangar. Between the space of the various vessels, Tavio could see three-legged cybernetic creatures twice his size carrying some cargo. Maybe a hybrid between Hōshi and a walking insect from Earth, upgraded with external appendages. Beautiful and frightening, like everything else around here.

  Bellrog messaged the captain from inside the shuttle. “Sir, can you help me carrying the life support packs?”

  Oxygen units didn’t weigh much, especially not when wearing a fortified exosuit like Bellrog did. Nevertheless, Tavio walked up the ramp and found his soldier among the cargo section, bent over a weapon crate. Bellrog switched to a private peer-to-peer channel with encryption, waved the captain over and whispered. “Sir, I have three holo-enhanced ion pistols, scatterguns, and a mobile desolater. I can prep us up in thirty-five seconds.”

  Battle lust flavored his next words. “We can take down those pale creepers and their flying trashcans.”

  Tavio admitted he was tempted. His implant would give him an advantage in close combat, and with Bellrog’s war breed background, they’d take the hangar. But one major issue stopped him. “Have you seen those mantis-like mechs in the back?”

  “Too far away to get us in time. You shoot down the flying trashcan, I take Chikara hostage on board. We’ll tell their creepers to open the hangar’s ceiling and lift off, back to the Moonshot.”