Triton: The Descendants War Book 1

by John Walker

  If this thing is AI controlled, that could be a problem unto itself. Or perhaps remotely controlled by some other force altogether. If someone discovered how to control such a massive ship from a different system entirely, they’d need to test it. And what better target than a place that couldn’t fight back?

  “Violet,” Rudy asked, “do you have better scans of the targets yet? Or of the surface?”

  “Well…” Violet hesitated before continuing, “whatever they used to hit the colony with left behind enough radiation that it’s tampering with our scans. I’m working through a method to cancel out the interference, which should be done momentarily. However, I can tell you this. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “The radiation?” Titus asked. “What do you mean?”

  “Just that,” Violet replied. “It’s toxic but not lethal. If someone gets exposed to it without protective gear, they’d be in no real jeopardy providing they received medical attention in a reasonable time frame. It won’t impact the crops and seems to be dissipating even now. It’s almost just… a side effect. Not what we’d see if they hit with bombs, in other words.”

  “Are you saying,” Rudy turned to her, “that you don’t think they used bombs for that? But the craters… those had to be impact points from ordnance. Or what are you suggesting they hit with?”

  “I don’t know yet.” Violet shrugged. “But I will soon. No answers to hails still. From the colony or the invading ships.”

  Titus checked their distance to the targets. They were nearly in range of their primary cannons. Turrets wouldn’t be much good for another few thousand kilometers, not for target locking, but that probably didn’t matter considering how large the vessels were. He leaned close to Rudy.

  “Are we going to attack if they don’t respond?”

  Rudy nodded. “They’ve made their hostile intentions clear. We have to take them out. Gather as much data from the remains as possible for further analysis. Whatever they thought they were doing, they can’t be allowed to think this was acceptable.” He paused. “In fact, Ronin? Lock weapons and prepare to open fire.”

  Titus’s gut turned at the idea. Something about the situation felt wrong. He didn’t like the way the enemy seemed to ignore them. Nor the fact they were still there after blasting the hell out of the colony. If they were facing a known quantity, their side would’ve been more than enough to take care of the threat.

  But not knowing what they were facing, both in terms of firepower and defense, made it seem prudent to hold off. After all, they couldn’t save the colony itself and they were already in a position to rescue any survivors. I’d handle this very differently. They had a few moments before opening fire.

  “Sir,” Titus kept his voice low, “maybe we should spend another few minutes observing. Gathering as much data as possible. If we can buy Violet time, I’m sure she can—”

  “We can’t let these people escape,” Rudy interrupted. “This may be the first attack of many. No, the Triton is in a position to make a difference. We’ll use the destroyers to focus on the first of the ships then wrap up the second one in short order. Any enemies on the surface, we’ll take as prisoners.”

  “How exactly are you of the opinion that it’ll be so easy?” Titus asked.

  “They haven’t acknowledged our presence,” Rudy said. “Which shows they either do not have sensors to detect us, or they are too occupied to respond. We’ll be hitting their flank. By the time they decide to turn and engage, we’ll have already finished one of them off. With the odds being three-to-one at that point, the rest will be simple.”

  Oh boy. Titus leaned back in his seat. I hope he’s right. But I sincerely doubt it.

  “I’m in position,” Ronin called. “I’m opening fire now.”

  Rudy tapped the comm, giving the order to the destroyers as well.

  Their beam weapons opened the conflict. They were specifically designed to tear through shields, opening a target up for projectile fire. Chunks of metal and massive explosive bullets were deployed to rip open an enemy’s hull. The combination proved devastating in conflicts against other known vessels.

  Red-white lines cut through the space from all three TCN vessels, scoring direct hits on the nearest target. A purple glow emanated some distance from the enemy ship, absorbing the assault. They kept up their fire, blasting it a second and third time. The barrier remained intact… and the enemy ship still did not move.

  “Violet?” Rudy turned to her. “Did you get a reading on that?”

  “Their shields are incredible,” Violet said. “Once we made contact with them, the readings were off the scale.”

  “What’s that mean?” Titus asked.

  “We created the meter based on our own scale,” Violet explained, “the top is the highest our science believed possible. I’m looking… they’re at least four times beyond that.”

  “Four times?” Rudy’s eyes widened. “Hit them with projectiles, Ronin. Let’s see if their fancy shields are ready for that type of damage.”

  Titus lowered his voice again, “Can you explain that logic?”

  “The shields may be specially designed to stop beams,” Rudy replied. “Which means they could be unprepared for actual physical attacks.”

  I guess.

  Titus engaged the holographic monitor on his chair, looking over the details of Violet’s discovery. The enormous power output from the enemy wasn’t restricted solely to their shields. They appeared to have multiple reactors, at least according to the scan details. Two sections of the vessel appeared hotter than the others.

  Furthermore, she picked up smaller energy readings all over the sides and tops. Something appeared to be warming up. He had a bad feeling about the increase in readings. The consistent rise meant something… likely a counterattack. But they could allow the TCN vessels to batter them while prepping.

  I wonder why they’re waiting. Titus considered a couple possibilities. They want to make a big show of things. They genuinely didn’t have their weapons online. The only thing he knew for sure was that they were entering a conflict they might not walk away from. We’re facing giants. Comparing their technology to ours makes it obvious we’re in over our heads.

  The mass cannons opened fire, deploying their explosive rounds against the shields. As they hammered the surface, they burst into orange globes but the enemy shields remained intact… and unscathed. Even with all three ships hitting them at the same time, beams and bullets together, they didn’t make an appreciable dent in their defenses.

  “Enemy thrusters are engaging,” Violet said. “They’re breaking orbit.”

  “Turning in our direction,” Jane added. “Both ships are now in motion, sir.”

  Rudy leaned forward, watching as their vessels continued to batter their opponent. The constant fire, all the shots, were simply wasted. Titus watched the scan of the enemy shields intently, praying for some dip, however minor. But no matter the ordnance tossed their way, his fears became realized.

  They were in over their heads.

  “Sir,” Titus leaned to Rudy, “respectfully, I suggest we withdraw from this and regroup. We need additional forces if we’re going to… ”

  “I’m reading a massive power surge!” Violet shouted. Her cry drew all attention to the main screen. Both ships seemed to glow from every bristling point, purple-red pulses like tiny lights offering an indication of their presence. “Something’s happening… something big. Wait! That’s… those are some kind of beam weapons. Sir! The enemy is opening fire!”

  Chapter 2

  Alon Des slipped between two trashed buildings, crouching at the edge. The enemy soldiers seemed occupied by policing the bodies of the fallen militia soldiers which bought him some time. The command center became his objective. If he got there, he might call for help or find others in the bunker that could back him up.

  Dashing out into the open, his heart raced. He struggled to keep his breathing under control and risked hyperventilation. H
is muscles tensed up against the thought of being shot, the moment when he’d feel some burning sensation then nothing. Some part of him knew he would die out there.

  When he left cover, he barely recognized himself. He didn’t know if he should consider it bravery or panicked self-preservation. Whatever the case, remaining outside meant certain death. Those people at the farmhouse had easily slaughtered his friends, tearing them apart with advanced weapons.

  And their defenses. They could not be stopped. More than anything that meant getting help, leaving the planet, and letting the military step in. That’s their job. We aren’t equipped for this! And the guy who had the training threw his life away! Alon had no intention of doing the same. I’m walking out of here no matter what.

  He took the stairs to the command center two at a time. Bursting inside, he waved his gun around as if to clear the area, but he knew it didn’t matter. If one of the enemy forces happened to be there, he’d be dead. The whole place proved to be empty, at least on the ground floor.

  After years of serving on the colony, Alon had never found any of the buildings vacant. It made his walk down the hall eerie. He expected footsteps, voices, anything at all to indicate a person survived the attack. The bunker. He had to remind himself of its existence. They’re probably down there.

  The safe room had all the technical equipment they needed to call for help. Alon hoped they’d found someone. So far, there’d been no indication of rescue, no sense that the military had arrived. He wondered how long it might take.

  If they arrived, would they have any better luck taking down these invaders? Our weapons aren’t all that different. That thought didn’t offer any comfort. But at least they have ships. We can flee. But where would we go? If this new enemy followed, if they wanted to attack other colonies, could they be stopped?

  Sounds from a terminal gave him some small relief. He stepped into the main control area where men and women generally manned those posts in shifts all day and night. It was clear they had all left in a hurry. Everything remained on, computer programs still churning away, devices buzzing and beeping here and there.

  I wonder if they ran the hot second the invaders arrived. Alon couldn’t judge cowardice. Not after what he’d done when his fellows had all died. But these people were meant to get help. I have to get to the bunker. Make sure they made it and if so, find out exactly what they’re planning to do.

  The sound of thrusters whizzed by overhead. They were familiar; a shuttle of regular design. It buzzed the command center before going distant. The new arrivals might be from another part of the planet or they could be their relief. He wouldn’t know without a look and he didn’t understand the scanning tech well enough to use it.

  Heading out of the room to the right, he went down a flight of stairs to the bunker doors. They were large enough to accommodate bigger equipment, but the place wasn’t buried as deeply as it should’ve been. The colonial admins suggested they weren’t in any real danger out there so they planted the place right away.

  The arrogance also translated to the walls that were never finished. Lazy cost cutting. If any of the admins survived, they had some things to answer for. Though in all fairness, they’d probably fall back on the fact the enemy employed weapons capable of nullifying all their defenses.

  “Hello?” Alon whispered, tapping the door with the butt of his gun. “It’s Alon Des! Can you hear me?”

  They didn’t answer.

  Shit!

  Alon rolled his eyes, moving to the panel by the door. He pressed his thumb against it, opening a comm connection. “Is anyone in there? I need help!”

  “Who is this?” Rissa answered the line, one of the comm techs. She’d always been nice before but the way she asked the question sounded strained… afraid… harsh. “Speak up!”

  “Alon Des! I’m with the militia! I need in!”

  “Impossible,” Rissa replied, “the door’s on a time lock now. We have to wait until it opens or the military comes with their special code. I can’t just let you in. That would defeat the purpose of a panic room!”

  “Are you insane? Why’d you time lock it?”

  “Because that’s the procedure!”

  Alon sighed. “I need to get in!”

  “Then wait an hour. That’s when we’ll be capable of opening it on our own.”

  “Goddamn it!” Alon hammered his fist against the door. “Figure it out, Rissa! Come on!”

  “I won’t even look into it,” Rissa replied. “Get out there and stop the invaders! Do your job!”

  “Everyone’s dead, you bitch!” Alon shouted. “They’re all gone! Jesus Christ, do you think I’d be here if I could just go out and start shooting…” He stopped when he heard a sound upstairs. Someone was approaching fast. He swallowed hard, lowering his voice. “Someone’s coming. Stay quiet. I’ll… think of something.”

  Son of a bitch!

  He moved up the stairs, letting his rifle lead the way. A muffled voice gave orders. At least five people, probably more, advanced on the command center. Alon took cover behind one of the terminals, fighting hard not to lose his shit. His eyes burned with unshed tears, sweat covered his back… in the next few moments, he figured he’d die.

  I delayed the inevitable, I guess. But he wouldn’t go down without a fight. His pulse pounded, making him light-headed and sick to his stomach. Still, he aimed around the edge of the console, waiting for his opponents to come creeping through.

  “Hold,” a gruff voice shouted, still muffled as if through a helmet. “Anyone in there? We’re TCN soldiers here to help. Come out if you’re present!”

  Alon considered ignoring him for a moment. Unfortunately, if the man proved to be telling the truth they’d have a fine excuse to shoot an idiot who didn’t identify himself. At least they don’t appear ready to kill whoever they find. Maybe. I have to take my chances. Fighting won’t do me much good.

  “I’m here! Militia officer Alon Dess! I’m armed, and I’d like to stand up without being shot!”

  “Do it.” The gruff voice barked back at him. “Make it slow!”

  Alon stood with his hands up. “We don’t have a lot of time. I saw what those people can do out there! Our weapons… they didn’t do anything to their armor. We opened up on them and they literally shrugged it off before tearing into our ranks with laser weaponry. And I can tell you right now, it was fast.”

  “How’d you make it?” A different voice asked. “If they tore into you guys with lasers.”

  “I was providing overwatch,” Alon lied. “When things went south, I ran back here in an effort to find a way to protect the civilians still inside.”

  “More like you bitched out,” the same person said.

  “Stow that!” The gruff one spoke. “I’m Gunnery Sergeant Stefan. Did they lock down the bunker?”

  “Yeah, it’s totally secure.” Alon gestured. “We have to move, sir! Those invaders will be here soon.”

  “They seemed occupied with something on the other side of the colony.” Gunny stepped in, moving down the stairs. “We need to hurry our asses up if we want to get these people out of here. Hans, get down here and input the code. I’ll get the shuttle back here. Alon or whatever your name was, help them file these people out the back door.”

  “Uh… sure.” Alon hurried over to the man called Hans though they all looked the same in their dark blue armor with helmets. Some of them had ranks. He didn’t know what they meant. As far as he was concerned, they didn’t look all that different from the invaders. Both sides covered themselves up from head to toe.

  Too bad we didn’t have similar equipment. That wasn’t a knock on the military. He leveraged that complaint against the people that operated the colony, the penny pinchers who chose not to pay for the things they needed to protect themselves. If I make it out of here, I’ll lodge a formal complaint against the company! I swear it!

  “What’re you doing?” Ryssa sounded on the verge of hysterics. Her scream through the mic
rophone made the speaker distort. “You can’t open this up until you take care of the threat! Are you people insane? I’m locking you out! Leave us alone!”

  Hans turned to Alon. “Help me out with this crazy bitch, huh kid? What’s her damage?”

  “Uh… she’s scared.” Alon shrugged. “Who are you?”

  “Sergeant Hans Burke. Get this open.”

  “Right.” Alon hit the button. “You have to let us open the door, Ryssa! We have to get you guys out of there. I told you about the invaders. I’m not sure they can stop them. So… can you please just open up?”

  “No!” Ryssa shouted. “Go to hell!”

  “Get your boss, lady!” Hans yelled back. “I’m not screwing around here. Whoever’s in charge of this colony needs to understand all your lives are on the line. We aren’t…”

  “We’ve got incoming,” Gunny interrupted. “If they’re not opening here, we have to go to the alternate entrance. You know where that is, Alon?”

  Alon’s cheeks burned. “Um… I… well, I hate to say…”

  “Stop stuttering. Where is it?”

  “They didn’t… dig it out.” Alon shrugged. “The admins were saving money. Figured they’d never need the bunker, so…”

  “That why the walls aren’t done either?” Hans asked. “Or the damn defensive turrets?”

  “We’re supposed to have turrets?” Alon hadn’t heard anything about that sort of thing.

  That would’ve been nice! We might’ve shot their shuttles down!

  “Well, shit.” Gunny sighed. “If they’re not opening up, we gotta move. There are civilians outside we can still save. You’re with us, Alon. Keep up cause we ain’t sticking around for you. Move your asses, men. Out the back. Now!”

  Alon turned his attention to the door where the others were held up. He wanted to try again, to talk them out of staying, but if the soldiers wanted to move, there wouldn’t have been time to get them all out anyway. No, the best chance was to get out of there then return to save them later.