Necrue (Stryker Team Book 8)

by Frank Carey

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  COPYRIGHT

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Necrue

  Stryker Team Book 8

  By Frank Carey

  COPYRIGHT

  Copyright © 2017 by Frank Carey

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  League Tale #49

  CHAPTER ONE

  The colonists slept while the robot crew watched over them as the mammoth ship slowly made its way to their new home. Somewhere in the darkness of space, an alien ship veered off course to intercept the ship and its precious cargo.

  By now, the crew of the alien ship had been taken over by the creatures released from one of the weapons they were transporting.

  "Captain! The creatures have breached the outer barriers. What do we do?" a crewman screamed at the commanding officer.

  "Hold them off as long as you can. We are about to dock with that ship out there. Once we're inside, we'll set our ship's engines to self-destruct after we've sent her off into the void! Get the crew ready to transfer!"

  "Aye, sir," the crewman replied while hoping against all hope that they weren't too late.

  Moments later, the smugglers hard-docked to the mammoth ship. The crew opened the lock and streamed into their new home as something pounded on the last hatch standing between them and the horror that infested the rest of their ship. When the last crewman was through, the captain ordered the autopilot to pull the ship away. Nothing happened. He looked at the controls and saw the computer had been destroyed by the weapon. He looked up and saw the remaining hatch crumple as the horror stepped inside.

  Only the vacuum of space muffled the screams of the remaining crew as they were overcome by a weapon too terrible to name.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Captain Kalana Grenor, elf, trauma surgeon, member of Elf Marine Expeditionary Force Stryker Team 1, and cyborg, lay on the gym floor and wished death to overtake her as she tried to remain conscious and breathe. Around her, the other members of her team lay on the floor and stacks of mats as they wished the very same fate, all that is except for their commander, Colonel Titus King, a human from Earth, and their torturer, Gunnery Sergeant Mersa, a basili from the planet Sokuhl. Those two looked barely winded.

  "I didn't realize the EMEF were recruiting wusses," King said.

  "Neither did I," Mersa replied. "I take this as a personal failure."

  "I hate you both," Kalana said. "No, make that the three of you," she said as Glean, their Weck scout, walked in with a tub of bottled water. Even though he had just finished the same workout as the rest of them, he seemed unfazed.

  "I was born and raised at what would be considered high altitude. Living on Degreb is like living in a swimming pool of oxygen," he explained.

  Kalana and the others just moaned.

  "Gunny, I think we need to make this a daily workout, don't you?" King asked.

  "Yes, sir, a fine idea. What about 4:00 AM?"

  "Works for me. Team 1, I will leave you in good hands. Don't get up on my account," he said as Mersa and Glean stood at attention and saluted. He returned the salute as he walked out.

  Staff Sergeant Trent, the team's Alue electronics expert, kept fading in and out of existence as his lock on corporeal form slipped due to exhaustion. "This must be what death feels like," he whispered.

  The remaining two organic life form--Corporals Nana Tor and Marcus Wen, the team's genetically engineered life forms--were sitting in yoga poses as they attempted to center themselves in spite of the aches, pains, and exhaustion they were experiencing. Trent looked at them and moaned.

  "Hit the showers, folks," Mersa ordered. "The day is still young."

  "Yes, ma'am," they responded as they helped each other up to a standing position so they could make their way to the showers. The day looked to be a long and painful one.

  "What are you waiting for?" Mersa said to Glean. The two of them were the worst kept secret on the planet.

  "You, of course," he said with a bow and a smile. They walked out of the gym on a heading which would take them to his private quarters. Like I said, they are the worst kept secret on the planet.

  ###

  Colonel King sat down at his desk and looked at the reports in his in-box waiting his signature. He reached past them and tapped a button on his desk communicator.

  "Hello?" a female voice said as the image of a female Alue appeared on the screen.

  "Hey, Esme, how's your day going?" he said to his wife, Esmeralda.

  "Hey, you big, handsome, lug. Things are going great. Coming home for lunch?" she said with a wink and a raised eyebrow.

  "Assuming I can get this pile of reports in order, then the answer is yes. Are we still on for dinner with the local prefect and his mate?"

  "Yes, we are. They're looking forward to meeting the infamous Colonel Titus King."

  "Infamous? I finally made it to infamous. Damn! Where's the fanfare..." The unit beeped, signaling a high-priority call coming in. "Got to go, Esme. Queen Lansing is calling."

  "See you at lunch. Love you."

  "Love you more," He said as he switched connections. "Good morning, My Queen! What can I do for you this fine day?"

  "Good morning to you, Titus, though here on Ventos Prime, it's 11:00 PM. Have you been briefed on the colonization of Calabasas?

  He picked a briefing folder from a pile on his desk and opened it to the executive summary which he quickly read. "I am now. Don't tell me they found another version of Nochmar," he said, referring to the last mission the team was on before he was assigned as its commanding officer.

  "Nope, no Nochmar, though I know you want to mix it up with him someday. No, the problem is a very large object approaching the planet. It's on a collision course."

  "A ship or something natural?"

  "A ship, we think. It's big. We sent a survey ship to take a look."

  "I assume there's a problem other than hitting the planet."

  "We lost contact with the survey ship--the Earth Survey Vessel La Nostra Ricerca--24-hours ago when they reported entering the system."

  "Murphy, are you within earshot?"

  "Yes, sir," the AI said as he walked into the room in his synth body. "Hello, My Queen," he said with a bow.

  "Hello, Murphy," she replied.

  The Colonel handed the Calabasas report to Murph. "Transit time to Calabasas?"

  "Using the nearest Erdexi portal: six hours."

  "My Queen, do you plan to send backup?"

  "The Super Tug Horatio and the Cruiser Mekla will arrive at the derelict in twenty-hours This will give them four hours to either move the damn thing or destroy it."

  "Fourteen hours until backup arrives. It'll have to do. We're on it, My Queen. We'll keep you posted."

  "Excellent. Until your next report, Lansing out."

  "Sir, are we goin
g to Calabasas?"

  "Yes, Murphy, we are. Prepare the Mugwump for immediate launch."

  "Yes, sir. Sir?"

  "Yes, Murph?"

  "Reton is on loan to the Survey Division as a security specialist," the AI said, referring to the team's only silicon-based life form.

  "And he's aboard the La Nostra Ricerca?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "OK, get the ship ready while I tell the troops."

  "Yes, sir."

  King stood up and followed the AI out the door. He felt a sudden dread about this mission, but just shrugged it off as pre-mission jitters.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Reton backed into a corner behind a rack of cables and watched the abomination walk past him. It turned and looked directly at him, but only saw machinery, so it moved on, leaving the mechanoid fighting the urge to scream. He recognized the creature as once being the survey ship's navigator. "I will avenge what they did to you, Myriam," he whispered before making his way to another deck. Once the creature was out of sight, Reton returned to his search for his crew. Reton was going to save their lives.

  ###

  Colonel King briefed the team as their ship--the Battle Shuttle Mugwump--headed toward the outer edge of the Erdexi portal which connected to one near Calabasas. A week's travel time was reduced to hours through the use of the portals.

  "Listen up! We're heading toward a derelict spaceship hurtling toward the planet Calabasas. The Survey Ship La Nostra Ricerca was investigating the derelict to see if they could move it. Unfortunately, the Ricerca is ignoring our requests for a report, so we're going there to ask personal-like. If the survey team went inside, then we'll have to go in and find them."

  "Sir, I saw this movie. It didn't end well for the Marines involved," Trent noted.

  "Sarge, I loved that movie. Not to worry, we've got backup in transit. Mekla and the Super Tug Horatio are scheduled to arrive on station 14 hours after we get there. Feel better, Sarge?"

  "Yes, sir. The sun is peeking through the clouds as we speak!"

  "Wonderful! When we arrive, we'll look for the La Nostra Ricerca and only enter the derelict if necessary. Our organic members will use power suits while our AI contingent will use mini-Minotaurs. Any questions?"

  "Sir, isn't Reton working aboard the La Nostra Ricerca?" Mersa asked.

  "Yes, Gunny, he is. We've tried to contact him over his personal comm channels without success. Look, I know he's your friend, but keep in mind that not only is Reton a silicon-based life form, he has a built-in pulse generator and armor plating for skin. He'll be fine. He's probably found something interesting to work on and just lost track of time."

  "Yes, sir."

  "People, this is probably just another case of a bunch of tech-heads who forgot to leave the radio on, but keep your eyes open. We've seen a lot of strange shit lately, and we don't want to be caught with our pants down. Murph!"

  "Sir!"

  "You three got anything to add?"

  "Only that the Ricerca has an AI--Maddy--on board, and we haven't been able to raise her."

  "Is that unusual?"

  "Very. We work on a level different from normal comm channels. Being out of touch is very unusual."

  "What could cause a loss of comm with her?"

  "Death," Parker interjected.

  "Or she's somehow shielded," Nova said. They could hear her swat her friend.

  "Murph, what's our ETA?"

  "Two hours, sir."

  "Copy that. Keep me posted. Folks, inspection in 90-minutes. That's all I got. Gunny, they're all yours."

  "You heard the colonel! Asses and elbows, people. We have people to save and aliens to vanquish. Move it!"

  Colonel King smiled.

  The team moved with a vengeance.

  ###

  Two hours later, the team was assembled around the main holotable and watched as a 3D image of the derelict rotated in mid-air. "OK, she's huge," Mersa said. "Interesting design. Six spheres at the vertices of a regular polyhedron. No League race uses a design like this."

  "It reminds me of a toy my granddad gave me when I was a kid," King said. "He called them jacks."

  Murph looked at the ship. "Three access corridors connecting six spheres in pairs. Each corridor is at a right angle to the other two." He pointed to the nearest sphere. It had four large ports on the end opposite the access tube. "Those look like engine exhausts.”

  Nova--encased in a suit similar to Parker's--flipped a switch. "Sir, that thing is putting out enough power to run a small planet. Source and type unknown. Purpose unknown."

  "Any idea where it came from?" King asked.

  Murph stared at the image as numbers streamed by. "Backtracking along its current course, we find the remnants of a nova which occurred about a thousand years ago. It's possible this ship is a life boat escaping a disaster."

  "Murph, have we finished an orbit of the ship?"

  "Yes, sir. There is no sign of the Ricerca. Scans show at least three large structures on the leading side of the starboard ball which could be landing bay doors."

  "Anything parked on the other side of those doors?"

  "The derelict's hull seems to be shielded from scans of the interior."

  "What's that?" Kalana pointed to a square shape on the outer side of the derelict's starboard sphere.

  "It looks like an airlock," King replied. "Murph, take us in and park 50-meters off that structure. Mersa, Trent, prep three ratbots for a recon mission."

  "Sir, may I ask why you're choosing rats?" Nana asked.

  "Large, black, multi-legged, laser-equipped, robotic centipedes scare people. Cute, fuzzy, rats don't."

  They could feel a slight vibration as the Mugwump came to a stop. "Sir, we've arrived on station. There seems to be no reaction to our presence," Murph announced as he drove the shuttle from where he stood next to the holotable.

  "Orientation?"

  "Nose on, sir."

  "Swing us to starboard and bring the port side weapons to bear. General quarters. Set the ship to condition one."

  The interior lights went red as small blaster turrets emerged from compartments in the ceiling. Meanwhile, the organic members of the team sealed their suits then activated their weapons. Likewise, the three cybernetically-enhanced members went stryker as the three members in mini-Minotaurs activated their weapons systems. In less than a minute, the team had gone to condition one.

  "Ready, sir," Mersa announced.

  "See? All those drills do pay off. Stand ready. Mersa, activate the rats."

  Three robot rats--one red, one white, and one green, emerged from a storage cubby in the aft wall and ran over to the port side wall where they stopped and waited.

  "Murph, depressurize the ship."

  In moments, the interior of the shuttle was at vacuum.

  "Sir, we are at space-ambient interior pressure," Murph said.

  "Very good. Open the port-side boarding hatch."

  "Aye, sir. Opening port-side boarding hatch."

  Twenty feet of port wall swung down to become a porch of sorts. Mersa, Trent, Nana, and Marcus stepped out onto the wall-turned-deck and waited.

  "Gunny, open the door," King said.

  "Aye, sir. Entry Team move out.”

  Led by the rats who were jetting over using their built-in thrusters, the four team members flew across the distance separating the two ships to land on the derelict's hull. Upon contact, magneto-adhesion pads on the soles of their suit feet held them in place while they worked. The three rats hovered above the door while Mersa worked on opening it. After no more than a minute, Mersa raised a hand, than a gloved thumb. "We're ready."

  "Stryker Team, prepare for entry into derelict. Scanners up and weapons ready. Move across on my mark. Mark!"

  The remaining members of the team jetted over to the derelict. Once on the hull, they waited.

  "Open the hatch," King ordered.

  Mersa pressed something on the hull. The square dropped inward, then slid to one
side revealing a large airlock beyond, one big enough to easily fit the whole team.

  "Marcus, Nana, take point," Mersa ordered. The two GELF strykers dropped into the lock. "Clear!" they said over their comms as they took positions to either side of the inner airlock seal. The rest of the team entered and took positions to either side of the inner door. Once the final member was in, Mersa closed the outer door and pressurized the space they stood in. When the cycle completed, she raised a thumb. "Cycle complete, we have pressure." She raised her left arm and aimed its scanner at the door. "Scanner is working. I'm reading a nitrogen-oxygen atmosphere with traces of carbon dioxide and water vap0r. Pressure is 14 psi. Relative humidity at 23%... That's odd."

  "Report," King ordered.

  She looked up at him. "Sir, we're not alone..."

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Reton backed into a wall alcove and watched two more creatures walk past, neither of whom were members of the Ricerca's crew. These two wore the remains of uniforms made from unfamiliar fabrics, each with alien symbols on it. He remotely accessed the Ricerca's computer system to see if there was any information on the writing or the civilization behind it. There was nothing. These new players came from someplace other than the worlds of the League.

  Once the two creatures moved on, Reton continued on his way. He had detected life signs which may be those of the Ricerca’s kidnapped crew.

  Rounding a turn, he saw six creatures huddled around a panel off to the side of a massive double-door. Using his internal sensors--courtesy of Elven Industries, Ltd.--Reton scanned the area beyond the door. "What the plark?" he whispered to himself. He had found the source of the life signs, but they couldn't be his fellow crew members if these creatures were trying to break into the room. He looked around and saw a computer network interface junction. Using another upgrade--you gotta love them Elves--he placed his hand on the junction and tied into the network. Alarms went off up and down the corridor. One of the creatures used a communication device to call someone. It listened, then gathered its compatriots before heading down the hallway away from Reton.

  "I guess I got the code for chemical leak right," he said as he hurried over to the door. He placed his hand on the lock pad the creatures were working on. The door clunked, then opened. He ran inside and reversed its direction before it completed its cycle. In moments it was closed. Satisfied that he was still undetected, Reton looked around. He stopped and stared. "Oh my..."