“I will help,” the creature said, “under two conditions. The first is that we must stop and kill the lieutenant. Not only does the Drakul deserve to die, but if we don’t, it will start looking for the soldier you killed, and will raise the alarm when it can’t. The second condition is that we rescue any of the slaves here we can.”
“We need to get in and out of here quietly,” said Calvin. “If killing the lieutenant helps maintain our secrecy, I’m all for it. As far as a rescue mission goes, our primary mission is to place our bombs in or near the operations center and destroy this station, but if there are others of your kind onboard that we can take off without compromising the mission, we will.”
“Fair enough,” the creature agreed. “I see the two metal members of your group are bigger than the others. I would recommend using one of them to pretend to be the Drakul soldier when we go through the airlock. Your suits are similar to theirs, and I think that we can get everyone through, but we will need to make two trips. I will say that I left a tool on the surface, which is why we have to go back. We will continue the deception that the Drakul soldier’s radio is out.”
* * * * *
Chapter Twenty-One
Asteroid Weapons Platform, Gliese 876, February 19, 2021
The plan to get them inside the asteroid worked. The Hooolong slouched down to make Staff Sergeant Dantone seem taller, and the airlock technician from Central Control that looked at them in the airlock’s camera hadn’t noticed the difference. He had also believed the story that Dantone’s face shield was blacked out, due to the same malfunction that had fried his radio. The process had taken a few minutes, but they were all inside and camouflaged.
The Hooolong didn’t seem to care whether they were visible or invisible to normal sight; with his sonar, he saw them just fine. Calvin knew that was a flaw in the system he would have to address when they got back. If they got back. No, he thought, when we get back.
As they rounded the first corner, the Hooolong came face to face with a Drakul going the other way, and the platoon got its first good look at a Drakul. It was the stuff of which nightmares were made. Standing over 10 feet tall, the monster was a dark tan in color, and even stockier than the one in the suit had appeared. The Drakul was probably over 400 pounds, thought Calvin, and it had incisors in its upper jaw that were too long for its mouth; they extended several inches. The Drakul was one of the ugliest things Calvin had ever seen. As they were previously described to the Terrans, the creature did appear vaguely frog-like, with a white throat and big, red bug eyes on its flat head. Calvin would never have thought it possible, but he found that he preferred looking at the four-eyed Hooolong to looking at the Drakul. “Where is the technical sergeant?” the creature asked the Hooolong in a deep rumbling voice.
“He went to get a replacement for the radio in his space suit,” Smetlurge replied. “He told me to come and report to you.”
“Yes,” the Drakul agreed with an evil grin. “There is something in the control room we need your help with.”
Calvin didn’t know whether Smetlurge was acting or whether he shivered because he was scared, but Smetlurge gave every indication of being afraid. He cowered on the floor and didn’t appear to want to move.
“Come on,” the Drakul said. “I have something I need you to assemble. I’m not going to eat you...unless you don’t come along right now.”
Smetlurge immediately began moving forward, once again reminding the Terrans of a giant inchworm. As they walked down the corridor, another Drakul came down the hallway in the other direction. The Terrans flattened themselves along the walls, but the Drakul following Smetlurge made a hand motion to the approaching Drakul, who turned and began walking alongside the first. Calvin saw the newcomer had the same insignia on its uniform and decided it was another lieutenant. Apparently the junior officers’ buffet was about to open.
The procession stopped at a door on the right side of the corridor with a metal plate to the right of it. The first lieutenant unclipped an identification tag and swiped it along the plate. The door opened, and the lieutenant motioned for the Hooolong to precede him into the room. Smetlurge inched forward into the room, brushing up against Master Gunnery Sergeant Kinkead, who tried to sneak in while the Hooolong entered.
Smetlurge fell to the right and rolled around on the floor. “Sorry, sir, very clumsy of me,” the Hooolong said. He continued to roll around while the two Drakuls laughed, allowing several other soldiers to enter the room. Finally, the lieutenant reached over and palmed the plate, shutting the door.
“I have not tried one of these before,” said the new lieutenant. “Is the creature as tasty as it looks?”
“Yes,” the first one replied. “The best part is that there is an artery on both ends, so that we can both feed at the same time.”
“You said you wouldn’t eat me!” cried Smetlurge.
“I lied,” the first Drakul said. “Now come here and don’t make me chase you, and maybe I will make this painless for you.” It laughed. “Then again, maybe I won’t, but at least there’s a chance...”
Calvin saw on his display there was a cyborg behind each of the Drakuls. “Go!” Calvin commed.
Before either Drakul could move, both of the cyborgs punched the Drakuls in front of them. As their hands moved forward, both extended a spike from the center of their fists. Over 10 inches of steel entered the Drakuls’ brains, killing them instantly.
As they fell to the floor, Smetlurge inched forward and spit a blob of orange goo on the first lieutenant. “Let that be a lesson,” he said. “Never trust a Drakul.”
Master Chief checked to ensure both Drakuls were dead. Looking up, he saw that Staff Sergeant Dantone was looking at his spike, turning his hand over slowly. Without facial expressions, it was hard to know what the cyborg was thinking, but just the way he moved indicated puzzlement. “Is there something wrong?” he asked.
“Yeah,” the cyborg replied. “My spike won’t retract.”
“Hoppy, get over here and take a look,” Master Chief ordered.
Sergeant Hopper walked over to the cyborg and inspected the cyborg’s hand. “This’ll just take a sec,” he said. He sprayed the area where the spike came out of the cyborg’s hand with a bottle that he pulled out of a pocket. The bottle was inside two separate containers. He counted to 10, and then he sprayed it with another bottle.
“What is that stuff?” asked Master Chief.
“Flesh eating bacteria,” Sergeant Hopper said. “Don’t get any on you; the bacteria will tear you up. My research showed that most combat ‘borgs get deadlined from biological matter getting wedged in their crevices. Bone fragments are the worst. The bacteria I applied will clean any sort of biological material out, but then you have to spray the antibiotic to kill the bacteria. You don’t want that shit running around. Nasty stuff. If the government on Earth ever finds out about it, the bacteria will be illegal faster than you can say ‘lawsuit.’”
“Where did—” Master Chief started.
“Don’t ask,” Hoppy cut him off. “Long story.” He surveyed the cyborg’s hand, frowned, and sprayed some lubricant he pulled from another pocket. “Try it now.”
The spike retracted silently.
Calvin surveyed the room while Night went to the door and let the rest of the platoon into the room. The laser control room was a 40’ diameter circle with 16 operator stations along the wall. Each group of four had another station behind it. A command chair sat in the center of the room, overseeing the four supervisors. It appeared to be on a swivel so that it could face in any direction.
Calvin turned to look at Smetlurge. “So, what is this place?” he asked.
“This is the forward laser control station,” said Smetlurge. “Each cluster of four stations controls the main lasers for a quadrant of the battle station. This group controls the lasers on the port side of the station,” he said, pointing at the group on the left. “These others control the lasers on top of the station, its
starboard side and on the station’s bottom,” he added pointing at the other groups in turn. “Each station controls 16 lasers, each group of four controls the quadrant’s 64 lasers, and the whole forward laser center controls 256. There is an aft laser control station that controls the 256 main lasers on the back part of the ship. The counter-missile lasers are controlled from defensive stations scattered throughout the ship. There are also a forward and an aft missile control station as well as counter-missile missile batteries scattered throughout—”
“That’s great,” Calvin interrupted smoothly. “Any chance we could take out the battlecruiser that is flying alongside this asteroid before it gets a chance to respond?”
“Of course there is,” Smetlurge agreed. “Remember, I designed this station. I have called others to come help. There are not enough of you to do everything that needs to be done.”
“What do you mean?” asked Calvin. “We need to blow up the control center. There are enough of us to do that.”
“If you like one-way missions, perhaps,” Smetlurge said. “I, however, have spent enough time on this rock and would like to leave. That entails disabling the battlecruiser that is alongside...unless you have something that can do that...no? I didn’t think so. This mission is the worst planned event I have ever seen. It is even worse than my sister’s wedding, which is really saying something.”
“OK, great, you’re going to kill the battlecruiser,” Calvin interrupted again. “Thanks.”
“Yes,” continued Smetlurge, “I also intend to disable this station’s offensive and defensive weapons, so that we can get away in your shuttle. Unless you have a plan for that, which you haven’t shared with me yet? No?”
“We are working on that,” Calvin said. “The most important thing is to destroy this station. Our civilization has a lot riding on it. Completing our mission is more important than all of our individual lives.”
“You can still destroy the station,” Smetlurge said, “but my life is more valuable to me than your lives apparently are to you. I haven’t kept myself alive this long just to die in your botched assault. You need to think bigger. Let us help, and we can also rescue a lot of the hostages held here. We’ll also get ourselves away, which I don’t think you are going to be able to do on your own.”
There was a soft knock on the door.
“They’re here,” Smetlurge said. “What’s it going to be?”
“We’ll follow your lead, as you seem to know the station better than we do,” Calvin agreed. “What do you suggest?”
Smetlurge didn’t respond for a moment; instead, his eyes closed, and he began swaying side to side slowly. Calvin motioned for Night to open the door, and a collection of eight aliens entered the room. Although most of them were Hooolongs, there was an Archon who was missing his wings, and something that looked uncomfortably like a five-foot tall spider. Night shut the door behind them.
One of the unit’s medics, Corporal Lawrence, went over to the Archon and began talking with him in a low voice, looking at his wing stumps.
Smetlurge’s eye stalks opened, and his swaying changed to a nodding motion. “Here is what I would recommend,” he said. He indicated the spider analog. “Bzzzeedlezzzzz is an excellent computer programmer, and the rest of my countrymen are weapons technicians. They can run the laser stations here.” Four of the worms moved to stand near a weapons station in each of the four groups, while a fifth went to stand next to the command chair. “I would recommend leaving three or four of your troops with them to provide security. They are unarmed and don’t know much about personal combat.”
Calvin turned to Master Chief. “Pick four to leave as security,” Calvin said.
Master Chief consulted his mental roster. “Sergeant MacKenzie, Corporal Hall, and Corporal Jones,” he said, “with Staff Sergeant Burke in command.”
Calvin nodded. “Make it so.” He turned back to Smetlurge. “What else?”
“I think we’d be best served by splitting up,” the alien said. “My son will lead one group to the operations center,” he said, indicating the last Hooolong that had come to stand by him. “I will lead the other group to the airlock control room, where we will begin facilitating our escape.”
“What do you think?” Calvin commed Night via laser link.
“It’s as good of a plan as we have,” Night replied. “At least this way, we have a guide to take us where we need to go. I’ll take the Space Force with both cyborgs to go destroy the ops center, if you want to go take and hold our exit.
“Agreed,” Calvin said. “Captain Train will go with your son to the ops center,” Calvin said to Smetlurge; “I will go with you to the airlock.”
“They should go first, then,” Smetlurge advised. “They have further to go.”
Night nodded and moved to the door. “Wraith, you’ve got point,” he said to Sergeant Park. She moved to the door and went invisible. “Lead the way,” Night said to the Hooolong. “We’ve got your back.”
The Hooolong went through the door, followed by the rest of the Space Force. Each went invisible as he or she went through the door. Finally, just Night was left. “Hold the airlock for me,” he said; “I’ll be right back.” He went invisible, and the door closed quietly.
“Master Gunnery Sergeant Kinkead, are you ready to go take an airlock?” Calvin asked.
“I am, sir,” she replied. “It’s the only way to get off this piece of shit rock.” She turned to the remaining members of her squad. “Zoromski, you’ve got point. Don’t let anyone eat the Hooolong.”
Smetlurge nodded, which for him was a bend at the ‘waist.’ “The Hooolong in question would be very thankful for that.” Smetlurge moved to the door.
Zoromski went invisible and opened it. Smetlurge followed him out, and the rest of the squad went invisible and followed. The Archon followed the last soldier out the door. “Keep them safe,” Calvin said to the four troopers that were staying behind to guard the command center. “Captain Train will get you on his way back. If anything else comes through the door, blast it.”
Calvin went invisible and left, closing the door behind him on his way out.
Task Force Night, Asteroid Weapons Platform, Gliese 876, February 19, 2021
The passageways were strangely quiet, and the squad made good time. Still, Night had a bad feeling. He didn’t know if the battle station was fully manned yet or not, but he would have expected to see at least a few of the Drakuls moving around through the corridors. So far, nothing. They had met up with another one of the spider creatures, a couple more Hooolongs, and some sort of leather-skinned flying creature, and they had sent them all to the airlock that they were planning on using, but no Drakuls so far. It was weird.
Night hated when things were weird. That usually happened just before they went to shit.
Task Force Calvin, Asteroid Weapons Platform, Gliese 876, February 19, 2021
Smetlurge stopped suddenly, and the Archon ran up to him. They spoke for a couple of moments, and then both of them looked back down the passageway and started waving frantically. Since there was no one else in the passageway for them to be waving to, Calvin moved forward. “There is a problem,” Smetlurge said.
“What is it?” Calvin whispered.
“You don’t have to whisper,” Smetlurge replied. “The central computer can’t hear us.”
“What do you mean, the central computer can’t hear us?” Calvin asked. “It looks like there is a monitor and audio pick up in the corner.” He pointed to the camera, guessing that Smetlurge could see what he was doing.
“It isn’t able to hear us,” said Smetlurge. “Remember, I designed this station?”
Calvin nodded invisibly. Smetlurge seemed to have no problem seeing him.
“When I designed the station,” Smetlurge continued, “I was also responsible for the computer’s coding. I had Bzzzeedlezzzzz write the code so that the AI ignores any non-Drakul race. We can walk around and talk, and the computer won’t see or hear us. No
ne of our conversations are recorded or even noticed. The station’s AI is physically unable to hear us. How do you suppose we got from the airlock to the control room unnoticed? Did you think your invisibility fooled the computer? That the computer didn’t notice the temperature increase in the halls? The oxygen usage? The strange air currents? Of course the AI noticed! It then decided that those things were due to the presence of non-Drakuls and promptly forgot about them as being beneath its notice.”
“So we can use our comm systems to coordinate, and the station’s AI won’t notice?” asked Calvin.
“I wouldn’t, if I were you,” replied Smetlurge. “The computer on the asteroid probably wouldn’t notice or care, but the computer on the battlecruiser alongside us probably would.”
“Aren’t you worried about a Drakul coming around the corner and seeing you talking to yourself? Calvin asked.
“No,” the Archon said, speaking for the first time, “that is the problem. All of the Drakuls not on watch are at a giant gathering to celebrate the station becoming operational. They are going to sacrifice about half of the remaining prisoners onboard for their feast.”
“Shit,” said Calvin, who could feel the horror emanating from the Archon. He spoke to Master Gunnery Sergeant Kinkead via laser link. “We’ve got a problem.”
* * * * *
Chapter Twenty-Two
Task Force Burke, Asteroid Weapons Platform, Gliese 876, February 19, 2021
Staff Sergeant Burke detailed Sergeant MacKenzie to watch the door and put Corporal Hall and Corporal Jones to work disassembling chairs and desks to build firing positions in case something showed up. The work was difficult, as the chairs were built to resist battle damage and remain in place, not come apart at the first bump that the ship took...or the first time a steel-toed boot kicked them.
Theogony 3: Terra Stands Alone Page 18
