by John Walker
“I somehow doubt it. Can’t say why.” Kyle glanced over his shoulder, half convinced he’d see soldiers marching up on them. Nothing seemed to be moving, no sounds… nothing he could detect in the dark. Maybe they haven’t even breached the tomb yet. Giving the place that name made his shoulders slump.
Wrong choice of words. Or maybe not. Chances were good they had found an ancient, alien mausoleum. Why protect it with the shields? Maybe it was a chamber to protect the cube, some kind of treasure trove. But why would the defenses lower for us when we arrived? The questions kept coming.
Lysa whacked his arm.
“What?”
“You’re drifting!” Lysa rasped. “Light up ahead. We’re approaching the control room, I think.”
“Lights?” Kyle readied his weapon. “Why?”
“Sensors must’ve detected our presence.” Lysa’s tablet beeped a dozen times in rapid succession. “Well, shit. That’s the distress beacon. It’s being jammed now.”
“But it got off okay, right?”
“I mean, someone will get it in short order. I paid extra for it. I wish I would’ve paid enough to make a more complex message.” Lysa hurried down the rest of the passage. Light ahead grew brighter, orange-yellow in color. The temperature rose too, hot air flowing down from the chamber.
Kyle stepped inside. Tall panels lined the walls to the left and right, indented circles covering the surfaces. The opposite side a darker section of the wall looked like it might be a door of some type. That gave him some relief. It meant they had a way out rather than dumping themselves into a dead end.
Lysa ran her scanner over the panels, rushing about. She gestured to the door without saying anything. Kyle crossed over to it, feeling along the seams. The frame looked completely smooth but as he brushed his fingers over the left side, one piece seemed rougher than the rest. Shoving hard, the panel slid to the left.
“We can get out,” Kyle said. “What’ve you got?”
“That these things are definitely some kind of advanced computer technology… they’re thousands of years old… there’s no dust, no decay and I have no idea how any of it works. I can’t analyze it because it’s well beyond our equipment. In other words, we’re kind of done. We need to get out of here.”
“Okay.” Kyle headed back to the passage they came in from. “You get moving, I’ll leave a surprise for our friends if they manage to follow us.”
“What’ve you got?”
“Some old explosives. A grenade combined with some twine should make for a reasonable deterrent. Just get moving.”
“I’m not leaving you, jackass. If we get separated, we’re in bigger trouble than if I stay.”
Kyle didn’t keep up the argument. He drew the old grenade from his pack, setting it to the left of the doorway. Some tape provided the means to secure it to the wall. He applied several strips to hold it in place. The twine went across the way. The nearest panel had a thin opening in some grating. He slipped the string through it, tying it off.
“Good enough.” He backed away slowly… turned after a few feet. “If we can’t get the shields up, can’t access any defensive measures, then we’d better run, yeah?”
Lysa led the way, casting her light on the floor. The passage went straight for a good twenty feet before curving to the right. It went into a shallow decline with the walls turning rough. The ceiling dipped low at a few points but then they found a set of crude stairs.
Did they not finish this section? Or has it fallen into disrepair?
None of the other parts seemed to suffer decay. This culture is fascinating. Too bad it feels like members of this species are the ones hunting us. I would’ve hoped they’d be friendly. Kyle thought about the cube. Of course, they might have some clue that we stole their artifact. If that thing mattered to them… well, we might’ve committed a ridiculous faux pas.
“I have a bad feeling about this direction,” Lysa said. “Going deeper… I dunno… it feels wrong.”
“There’s gotta be a way out,” Kyle replied.
“Why’s that?”
“Um…” Kyle blanked. “Cause?”
“Fantastic. I love your levelheaded science brain.”
“Relax. We’ll find something soon.” I hope that optimism pays off. He had no idea how far down they were but it felt warmer. We’re probably looping around to the reactor area. Maybe we couldn’t control their computers but making things overload… that’s usually pretty easy. Could be that we’ll buy ourselves some time…
… at the expense of the greatest find in human history. Kyle hated he had to weigh that against survival. But given the choice, archaeology lost the debate. I want to be around for a scolding. Far better than a funeral.
***
Kivda hopped off the ramp, stepping close to the entrance of the ancient temple. He glanced back at the rubble of the alien spacecraft, the smoldering debris poking out of the stone walls. His men secured the entrance, taking up positions to get a good line of sight inside the area as Blauth Niesh, his second, stood beside him.
So these people came to plunder one of our holy places. Kivda wondered why the Lord Marshal hadn’t sent someone to secure it sooner if it was so important. A piece of the puzzle to figure out later.
“Take the men,” Kivda said, “secure the temple. I’ll root around out here for a moment. Let me know if you find anyone right away. And remember, we want prisoners. Unless you are at risk of death do not kill your targets.” Questioning them is the only way to trace this back to the Prophet.
“Yes, sir.” Niesh nodded. “Scans are odd inside the structure. We’ll have to make some adjustments to find them once we’ve got a reasonable sampling.”
“Be cautious. This wreckage may not be like our equipment but that’s not to say they don’t have our weapons.”
Kivda figured the Lord Marshal wanted a reason to arrest the Prophet. If it turned out he had sent people to pillage ancient sites, then it would be a simple matter of putting him in prison or even executing him. We might even discredit him enough to take away his ability to become a martyr for his cause.
Of course, some part of him wondered if the man could be so easily caught. I guess someone would’ve done it by now. Collecting evidence against this rebel helped the rest of the cause. Discrediting the opponent may even work out better than having him killed. Turn the people on such a problem and it could sort itself.
“Report,” Renz said. “What have you discovered?”
“An ancient temple,” Kivda said, “the language is so old I have no idea how to read it. I’ll get some images so we can check the archives for it. I’ve sent men inside to secure the structure. If anyone’s in there, we’ll have them in a few minutes. It won’t be long now. This situation is ending momentarily.”
“What is this bizarre signal?” Renz asked. “It’s insistent… like a distress call but it’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen.”
“I… don’t know,” Kivda replied. He checked his scanner, broadening the range. Sure enough, a repeating pattern came from the top of the cliff just to his left. He zeroed in on it, blasting the device with interference. Smoke burst from something above, just quick black puff before it ended. “I’ve shut it down. I hope you recorded it?”
“We have. We’ll do an evaluation.” Renz hummed. “What do you think it might’ve been?”
“Some kind of special signal. Low-tech. Maybe they have this old equipment to throw us off. It could have been easier to slip out of a major system if they were running on such low power. Then this device, that feels odd. Certainly intentional. We didn’t even know what it was at first.”
“You believe they’ve intentionally gone low-tech?” Renz remained silent for several moments. “I can see it. I’ll task our people here with discovering where such equipment might be found back home. You focus on the targets. I’m a bit concerned you have yet to find them. Where could they possibly be?”
“The temple isn’t that large,” Kivda said
. “I’ll find out what’s going on. We’ll keep in touch. Talk soon.” He muted the comm, heading inside. The others scoured the room, moving along the walls on the outside. Aha. If they were in here, they must’ve found one of the maintenance passages.
The priests guarded such places greedily. Law allowed them to do so. As old as it was, the site happened to be structured much in the same way as other buildings like it throughout the empire. Often, relics were contained within. Scripture… divine artifacts of deep meaning to the Kahl people.
A pedestal at the opposite end of the room attracted Kivda’s attention. He approached, admiring the thing for a long moment. The suspensor field generator remained warm. It had been active not long before. A quick scan showed it only recently shut off. He backed away, eyes narrowed.
They’ve stolen something of value.
“Niesh,” Kivda called, “this contained one of our artifacts. Our quarry must’ve taken it. That’s our new focus. Their lives mean far less than locating the item.”
“Do you know what it might be?” Niesh asked. “How will we know it?”
“I’m fairly certain it will be obvious,” Kivda replied. He headed for the exit. “I’m bringing Benth down. We’ll hunt them from the sky.”
“If memory serves,” Niesh said, “there should be a maintenance tunnel around here somewhere. I’m thinking planetary energy. Very little upkeep and what is needed can be handled with thinking machines. We’ll find it.”
“Excellent. We’ll cover all angles this way. Remain in contact and let me know if you find anything of value.”
These scum are here somewhere. They have no way off the planet. Kivda stepped into the darkness of night, gazing up as the shuttle made its way back around to pick him up. They’d be on their way momentarily, scouring the surface around the site. You won’t make a fool of me. The longer you make me hunt, the more you’ll pay. I swear it.
Chapter 10
Commander Rhys Labeau found himself on a secure shuttle heading for his new post. The battleship Triton had been in dry dock for the better part of two months undergoing some sort of upgrade. Scuttlebutt didn’t know specifically why. Only that it had been top secret… along with a variety of assignments aboard.
He struggled with the post. When he finished his last tour aboard a battleship, he thought he might get command of a destroyer or even be promoted. Unfortunately, he didn’t hobnob well nor did he have any political contacts to speak of. When the message came for him to report to Titus Barnes, his heart sunk.
And yet the top secret nature of the situation appealed to his sense of curiosity. Whatever they were up to had to be exciting. Perhaps even career advancing if it didn’t turn out to be some sort of prototype run. He’d heard about ship crews testing new equipment, never getting any real attention for promotions.
If I want to be this ambitious, I need to make friends. It wasn’t that Rhys didn’t get along with superiors. He just never found a way to ingratiate himself to groups of them or their parties. The opportunities he’d been given never panned out. Politicians didn’t make sense to him. Frivolous talk had never been his strong suit. They call it small talk.
And that was part of his problem. Rhys looked down his nose at what he considered a waste of time. Command had been something he’d wanted since he joined the military. He had received his lieutenant’s commission at nineteen, one of the youngest in the service. Only one person beat him and they’d washed out after only a year.
The day he received his bars, he figured nothing would stop him from rising to the top quickly. Unfortunately, that had been the highlight of his career and the fastest he’d see a promotion for a long time. Still, rising to the rank of Commander wasn’t anything to sneeze at. It came with serious responsibilities and real prestige.
I always thought growing up on Earth would help. Many people suggested the Terran Colonial Navy favored those who came from their homeworld; that they received preferential treatment. That was not the experience Rhys had. In fact, it often proved to be a detriment when most other high ranking personnel grew up in the colonies.
Research on Titus Barnes proved that out. The man came from a farming community, a first generation military man, though his father had been part of their militia. He had risen through the ranks steadily, receiving his Captaincy around the time the Triton ended up in dry dock. Rumor had it the ranking officer had died, earning Titus a field promotion.
Considering the man was only thirty-nine, that made some sense. Rhys had celebrated his forty-second birthday only a month earlier. The fact the captain happened to be younger than him proved out more of his theory about colonials and how they had a leg up in the military. Either that or Titus happened to be good at the schmoozing.
I can’t have this attitude. Rhys felt guilty about it. He didn’t want to be that guy who held a grudge against someone who had found success before him. And maybe this isn’t such a great posting for him. He might not be thrilled about it either. He rolled his eyes. Who am I kidding? He gets to command a battleship. That’s not just an honor, it’s a dream come true.
Two soldiers hitched a ride on the shuttle as well. Corporals Vesper Wilson and Martin Tiller. They were fresh out of gunnery school though they’d scored well enough to jump rank. He didn’t know why they’d been selected for the Triton assignment. Their presence leant evidence to the prototype ship idea.
New ideas, new personnel. He’d seen that type of thing before. Back when they wanted to start using the automated turrets. They needed young people on standby to take control or even perform troubleshooting steps. A bunch of kids that weren’t on track for any sort of special assignment found themselves at the heart of a major project.
Tech people tended to make out when it came to testing new ideas. The soldiers were another story entirely. He quizzed them while they waited for the ship to launch earlier. They didn’t know what was going on any more than he did however, they were under the impression they were there for some sort of action.
Maybe we’re after a pirate gang. Or raiders. Rhys felt either of those would be a worthy use of their time. The secrecy didn’t seem to bother his companions but it definitely annoyed the hell out of him. I feel like they should’ve given me something more than in my briefing. This is ridiculous.
“Sir?” Tiller leaned forward. “Sorry to bother you. I was wondering… we were talking a minute ago and… I just realized. Are you… are you the officer who took down a pirate-run space station with an old tablet?”
That particular adventure had become a bolstered legend, one people embellished since it had happened years ago. He’d been a lieutenant assigned to ground teams. A space station had been taken by the enemy, hijacked along with some key personnel. Once he and his people had boarded, Rhys had discovered that intel had dropped the ball.
The pirates had claimed the automated defense systems, hacking the core systems. Trying to retake the central command would’ve involved battling through a tight corridor with energy turrets chipping away at them. That had led to his idea to take the system back. Rather than go for command, his people took the reactor.
His ‘legendary’ hack came down to unlocking the door the pirates hadn’t been able to manage. Once they were inside, they had full control. He shut off life support to the command center, locked it down, and within twenty minutes, he had them in custody after an unconditional surrender.
Hardly the stuff of legends. If I hadn’t been able to get through that door, I’d be known as the guy who got my entire unit killed.
“That’s a fabrication,” Rhys settled on, “but yes. That was sort of me.”
“Amazing.” Tiller nudged Wilson. “I told you. I feel much more confident about this assignment now.” He smiled. “We had a small bet, sir. She thought you were someone else, but I was utterly convinced. It’s an honor to serve with you… with someone who cares about the ground forces, especially.”
Rhys didn’t have a response for that. Fortunately, they set
down in the Triton hangar, sparing him having to find a tactful way out of the conversation. The last five years calmed down the adoration he received, at least a little. That meant someone mentioned it with a nod and a thanks rather than going on about it.
The ramp dropped a moment later. His companions started to disembark then stopped abruptly, snapping to attention. Rhys leaned to take a look. Captain Titus Barnes boarded, nodding at the corporals. He looked younger than anticipated, or at least, he wore his age well.
“Go on out, guys,” Titus said to the others. “Lieutenant Corso’s waiting. He’ll take you to a briefing before getting you settled in. Dismissed.” Tiller and Wilson headed out quickly. “Commander Labeau. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Captain Titus Barnes and I thought I’d come down here to personally welcome you.”
They shook hands. “Thank you, sir. I appreciate it. I look forward to getting to know the Triton.”
“You served on a battleship before when you were a lieutenant commander, is that right?”
“Yes, sir. A year as an operations officer. I headed up security and ground teams.”
Titus smiled. “You’re in for a bit of a surprise here.” He motioned and they began to walk. “The Triton has… undergone some changes in the last couple months. Monumental ones that I didn’t think would even be possible. But we’ll get to that in a moment. Be honest with me, how irritated are you about the secrecy?”
“Uh… I’m just a naturally curious person, sir. I wouldn’t say I was particularly…”
“It would’ve driven me nuts,” Titus interrupted. “But when I tell you what’s going on, I think you’ll understand. I’m sure that at least one of your guesses has been that you’ve been assigned to a prototype ship and that we’re testing key systems. That is partially true, only we’re going to be in the thick of some real action.”
“I don’t understand, sir.” Rhys shrugged. “What’s that mean? Who are we fighting?”
