Edge of Redemption (A Star Too Far Book 3)

by Casey Calouette

The troopship was fleeing, moving with an intensity that was only surpassed by the inevitability of the fight. Ripples of gravity shuddered away from the aft of the blocky Hun ship. Grav shields flickered along the edges while the meager armaments powered up and focused behind.

  William cast a glance to the visual spectrum and saw the barren planet gliding by. The Garlic seemed to hang in space over the mocha grittiness below. He wondered for a second what it was like on the planet.

  “Locking in,” he said, and engaged the weapons program.

  Displays above shifted from general maintenance screens to the weapons layout. One quarter of the screens showed red and yellow warnings about the poor state of the mass drivers and the lack of railgun capacity. They drifted away moments later showing a black slice that reminded William what they were lacking.

  He felt almost helpless, a slave to gravity and physics. The fight was inevitable now. Even if he wanted to run, his velocity was high enough that with a full sideways burn he’d still slide by within weapons’ range of the Hun ship. But he didn’t want to run, he wanted to puncture the Hun ship and make them pay for the damage they’d done.

  The distance closed rapidly as the bulk of the Hun troopship couldn’t accelerate away. One grav drive cracked apart and winked out in a green arc flash. The ship pivoted and turned slightly on its axis, not from a defensive maneuver but because the thrust was unbalanced. The internals couldn’t keep it on course.

  The mass drivers opened fire. The shudder of the new mass drivers was richer, heavier, and louder than the original units. The first slugs punctured the rear of the troopship with streams of frost and air bellowing out from the perfectly round holes. Grav shields stopped some of the rounds, but most skittered through the wide gaps and slammed into the lightly armored ship.

  “Spin-break and evasive maneuvers,” William said to Bryce.

  The Garlic’s grav shield indicators burned brightly into the red. The meager barrage from the troopship was enough to overwhelm what few cells remained. Rods of accelerated nickel impacted into the Garlic with crackling thuds sounding through the hull.

  William listened and hoped that whatever aggregate Huron used would be strong enough to keep the slugs out. The deep wounds in the hull were barely scarred over.

  Tracers of green nickel danced between the two ships. The Garlic closed and braked at the same time while the troopship continued to fight with a hull that was pocked with holes. In a flash of white, one of the Huns mass driver batteries disintegrated. The singe remaining battery spat out nickel at irregular intervals.

  William swapped the visual to thermal. The hull was a uniform blue with each puncture point highlighted in red where the life was bleeding out. The barrel of the remaining mass driver was a blank white. The heat reading was off the scale. A deep red reading grew from the aft of the ship.

  Fire? William knew there was nothing more terrible on a starship then when it burned.

  The acceleration numbers on the damaged troopship dropped to zero. The remaining grav drives paused, emitted an odd frequency pulse and went cold. Thermal imaging showed the red in the aft growing and spreading. The last mass driver slumped and stopped firing.

  “Shall we continue?” Shay asked.

  William glanced up and saw the Gallipoli was still crossing the gap to the next blink. Plenty of time. “No,” he said, and tapped his console.

  A massive ka-chunk sounded and the entire contents of the Garlic’s missile launcher burst apart. Each missile accelerated out, paused, and dove in towards the mauled troopship. There was a momentary halt as the pinprick fires of the missiles tails disappeared into the hull.

  The superalloy tips of the missiles bored through decks, bulkheads and machinery before finally coming to a stop. A millisecond later the internal nanite explosives cascaded into heat and pressure. Shockwaves rippled through the hull followed by an incessant white heat of nanite consumption. From the outside the troopship flared and seemed to relax, as if each of the seams let loose.

  William watched the ship burn for a moment and felt a small sense of relief. But not as much satisfaction as he’d hoped. His eyes darted over and saw the probable position of the Gallipoli. “Go passive, silent running, follow the plan.”

  “Aye, Captain,” Bryce and Shay replied in unison.

  The sensor banks of the Garlic dropped into silence and the course adjusted. The nose of the ship pivoted. They tacked, as much as an object could in zero gravity, and plunged towards the terminator line of the dusty planet.

  Bits of dust and debris stirred as the ship passed into what was once known as LEO (low earth orbit). The hull of the ship sang with a sandy hiss. The velocity increased as they dipped lower, tighter, faster. Like a ball in a bowl, they shot out around the other side and used the accumulated velocity to escape into the darkness.

  William watched the projected course of the Gallipoli and knew they couldn’t catch him—not now, velocity was on his side. “Course correction, Ms. Shay.”

  Shay turned to William. “Hmm?”

  “Bring us close to Winterthur, we’re going to sneak a peek and drop a little propaganda. I think we can gloat a bit.”

  Shay grinned back. “You got it, Captain!”

  William stood and stretched his legs. “Huron?”

  “Sir?” Huron replied with the hum of the grav drives sounding over the comms.

  “Prep an orbital relay please, I’d like to drop a relay and see if there’s anyone worth talking to on the planet.”

  “Yes sir. Oh, the launcher jammed too.”

  William nodded and regretted launching that final barrage. But it felt so good. “You have the bridge, Ms. Shay, I’m starving.” He patted his stomach and judged that he could afford to eat a second lunch for the day.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  ––––––––

  Emmet picked through the briny air and pointed out handholds and flat spots. The shoreline was more treacherous than Emilie remembered. The high salinity level meant nearly everything that spent any time in contact with the water would corrode and wash away. The dead ocean had become a dumping ground. The fact that the dissolved metals might be reclaimed in the distillation towers wasn’t lost on anyone.

  Emilie grasped the edge of a metal plate and felt the raspy grit of rust peel away. Her feet shifted and she caught herself on the slippery slope. “Hold on,” she said as she got her footing.

  Emmet stopped and squatted down on an old washing machine. He adjusted his weapon and scanned along the shoreline. The sound of a transport rumbled by and he stared up at the edge above him but the sound faded.

  “Where are we going?” Emilie asked again.

  “Somewhere safe,” Emmet replied and started to move.

  Emilie looked up and shook her head. The same answer to the same question. “But the facility—”

  He cut her off. “—is one of the first places the Hun will go.”

  She seethed at the thought that the invaders would seize her assets. If she didn’t have the additive cells, she didn’t have much of anything.

  A loud explosion rippled through the air farther down the shore. The fog glowed green and yellow before dipping back into a shade of murky grey.

  “What was that?”

  Emmet grinned down the shoreline. “That was one of your additive cells.”

  She cried out and nearly slipped off the debris heap.

  “Listen, you might be the boss, and you might own this shit, but this is a warzone, lady. Not a fucking corporate buyout. Now get moving.”

  Emilie felt embarrassed and angry all at once. He was right, she knew it, but the loss hit her in the gut. She reached a hand out and pulled herself along behind him. “Did you rig them all to blow?”

  “Nah, just the first one. It’ll take ‘em a while to get to the others. They’ll be more cautious then, so the element of surprise is gone.”

  They picked through the debris before stopping at the broken edge of an old distillation tower
. White corrosion was caked on thick like a stalagmite. The waves rolled through the fog and crashed against the tower. Closer to shore it disappeared into the stone and debris.

  “Why are we stopping?”

  “We’re here,” Emmet mumbled as he carefully leaned his weapon against the structure.

  Emilie saw nothing. Debris scattered as far as she could see down either shore. The misty fog obscured the higher terrain and the open ocean rolled gently against the strewn shore. Hiding in garbage, she thought, I’ve come to this?

  A small drone crawled up from the debris and clung to a solid edge. A slender barrel telescoped out of its back and scanned the high ground. Purple tinted sensor eyes winked up and down.

  Emilie stared at it with an open mouth. She didn’t notice the woman until she pulled back her hood and smiled.

  “Hello, Kari,” Emmet said. “Give me a hand?”

  Kari nodded and grasped the edge of a panel next to Emmet. She was tall enough to be pretty, but not tall enough to be amazing. Her face had a plastic look, the cheeks seemed locked while the eyes shone in the bright light, almost too glossy. Her throat was a rigid mass of raised skin and scar tissue.

  Emmet and Kari raised the edge of a panel and revealed another piece of debris. The second piece slid aside and a passage opened down below. Warm air flowed out along with the smell of steel and chemprep dinners. The drone crept into the debris and relaxed.

  Kari clicked her teeth and pointed down the hatch.

  “Move,” Emmet said and dropped down into the darkness.

  Emilie followed into a claustrophobic space of alloy and tubing. At first it felt like crawling into a distillation tower but then the floor leveled out and the walls looked new. The crawl ended on a flat floor with an airlock sunk into the wall. She looked up and watched Kari climb down behind her. Warm air pulsed out from a ventilation vent next to her. She guessed twenty meters, that put her about fifteen meters below sea level and the airlock pointed farther out. “We’re underwater,” she said.

  “Ding-ding, give her an award,” Emmet said as he stripped off his heavy jacket and revealed a body of mostly alloy and mechatronics.

  Emilie snatched her eyes away and felt awkward staring at a naked alloy man, except the man wasn’t fully a man and mostly alloy.

  Emmet turned and looked down with a hurt look on his face. “We were both part of the Core Marine program, but it didn’t work out.”

  Kari pushed the airlock open and beckoned inside.

  “We both took it on New Tunis. I lost, well, most everything. Kari has a new skull, voice box, shoulders and spine. She doesn’t talk much.”

  Kari turned and cocked her head at Emmet.

  “Scratch that, she doesn’t talk at all.”

  The three entered into a dark space and the lights flared on. Cell after cell of synthetic sunlight illuminated the space and kept going and going. The space was filled with small prototype additive cells and equipment that Emilie didn’t recognize. It all looked vaguely scientific, but in a way that only a layman would recognize. At the end of the complex, a wide wall was dotted with doors and offices.

  “What is this?” Emilie asked.

  Kari walked away and disappeared into the maze of machinery. Emmet smiled and pulled a dirty bathrobe off the corner of an additive cell. He tucked himself into it and shrugged his shoulders. “It’s listed as storage facility number eleven.”

  She fumbled with her bag and pulled out the tablet. Her fingers couldn’t poke fast enough to bring up the list. The description was bland, a storage facility. She pushed further into the details and saw nothing out of the ordinary, except for the location. It appeared to be somewhere on the edge of town, exactly where this wasn’t. “But what is it?”

  Emmet’s feet squeaked as he stepped slowly next to a yellow safety line. “They needed somewhere they could play around, get resources off the book, test things out without any chance of corporate espionage. So it was all encapsulated here.”

  “A research facility?” Emilie was stunned.

  “When the evac order came, we decided to stay. Everyone else had offers at other locations, transfers and such. There’s a few things they left for you in the command room,” Emmet said as a look of remembrance came over him.

  Emilie turned and looked around. Now things didn’t seem quite as bad. She didn’t know of any research facilities like this, but it made sense. “Oh?”

  “Come, come.” Emmet moved quickly with the tails of the bathrobe fanned out behind him. He stopped at the long wall and pointed to a closed door.

  “What is it?” Emilie asked, confused.

  Emmet rolled his eyes. “It’s inside, you have the key.”

  Emilie looked to the door and saw no lock. She stepped closer and heard a pin slide out. She glanced down at the tablet and knew it must be the library. The door opened slightly and she pushed it open.

  Inside sat a table. A single sheet of paper lay on top. Emilie stepped inside and picked it up. Paper. Her fingers felt the edge and took in the texture.

  It was completely blank. A crisp edge on one side seemed a bit thicker than the rest. She squinted and watched as handwriting flowed across it. Digital ink.

  Sorry about emptying the mining assets but we had to balance the books. Accountants and all. This should make up for it. Keep in touch.

  SAMSON

  “Son of a bitch,” she whispered and set the paper down. So she wasn’t screwed. Well, she thought, at least not financially. The value she paid was proper, just not for everything she thought. She set the paper down gently and rubbed her fingers on the edge once more. “Emmet?”

  “Ma’am?”

  “Mind giving me a tour?”

  “Kari’s cooking something up. Why not grab a bite to eat? I’m starved.”

  Emilie glanced at the man with a mechanical body and wasn’t sure if she’d offend him by laughing. “Uh.”

  Emmet winked and walked out into the hall. “Come on!”

  She smiled and decided that she liked Emmet.

  The tour was brief and didn’t involve any food. Though the smells of Kari cooking wasn’t false. At the farthest edge of the facility sat bank after bank of raw materials.

  “The library is pretty limited. I planned on making a nice side income selling replacement parts,” Emmet said, and sighed.

  Kari walked up and handed Emilie a bowl of some kind of brothy liquid.

  Emilie took a sip and burnt her lip. She almost said something but then remembered that Kari didn’t talk. “So, can’t talk or don’t talk?”

  Kari sighed and looked to Emmet.

  “Want me to?” Emmet said.

  “No.” Kari’s voice was a rasping grating sound like dirt scraped against a snare drum. “I prefer not to.”

  Emilie looked down to the broth and wished she hadn’t asked. She’d been so used to knowing, demanding, and getting what she desired that thinking of a reason, other than her own selfishness didn’t come easy. She almost apologized but caught herself. “Thank you.”

  Kari nodded and leaned against a tank labeled “Tungsten Carbide”.

  “How do you communicate?” Emilie asked.

  “Part of the program, implants, we can relay text,” Emmet said and tapped his temple with a meaty finger. “Standard issue in the Army now, isn’t it?”

  Emilie shrugged. “I was in colonization, not defense.”

  “What now?” Emmet asked.

  What now, Emilie wondered. She felt anchored, but the anchor was in shallow sand and threatening to tear out into the storm. Her eyes looked quickly at Emmet and Kari and she turned away before either could see the look of indecision on her face. She turned around. “Do we have a feed?”

  Kari nodded and beckoned for Emilie to follow.

  They weaved past an array of glass and tubing before walking in silence down a narrow path. On either side, additive cells sat silent.

  Kari pushed through a metal door. Lights blinked on bathing the command r
oom in a dim bluish light. Screens popped on and a startup routine scrolled past in walls of text. Kari shrugged, turned around, and walked out.

  Emilie paced from side to side and felt the weight of the tablet. She saw the interface point and connected it. The screen paused, dropped out of maintenance mode and an entirely new view opened up. She gasped and took it all in. On one screen was a complete feed of the solar system while the others showed production status. A single display showed a close up view of the elevator complex and the entire city of Winterthur. A box popped up and politely asked her what to start making.

  “Emmet?” Emilie yelled over her shoulder.

  “What?” Emmet yelled back a moment later. Heavy footsteps stomped closer. “What?”

  “What kind of weapon should we make?”

  Emmet bit his lip and looked up for a moment. He nodded to himself and smiled. “Colt R-27. A beautiful gem, last generation but packs a wallop. It’s a big bore, something that’ll hurt those bastards.”

  Emilie nodded and typed it in. With a simple tap, the screen acknowledged the order. Mechanical sounds broke out from the production floor followed by a steady humming sound.

  “Just like that?” Emmet asked.

  “Just like that.”

  “So why not just make an army?” Emmet pointed at the scrolling screen. “Just whammo, a thousand assault drones—thank you very much!”

  “Rares and control,” she said simply. “There is a tiny bit of rare metals that dope the entire nanite matrix. Without the rares, you can’t assemble anything. Well, not unless you’re making axes and swords. Plus, in order to activate automated drones, we would have to use the main Core neural net.”

  “Neural net? Where’s that?”

  “Elevator complex,” Emilie replied with a sigh.

  Emmet snorted. “Rares? The distillation towers?”

  “You got it. The sea is rich in dissolved metals. But yes, the whole purpose here is to extract those rares and ship ‘em back to Earth.”

  Emmet squinted his nose and scratched his chin. “And what do they do with ‘em?”

  Emilie shrugged. “Everything.”

  “Well,” Emmet said, nodding to the screen. “Lemme know if ya need me.”