“You think the aliens won’t be affected by the non-lethal ammunition?”
“I think the first time we fought them they expected to run all over us,” Dean admitted. “They didn’t see us as a threat, especially after capturing the Roosevelt so easily. This time will be different. They know what to expect, and they’re backed into a corner. They have nothing to lose, and that makes them twice as dangerous.”
“I see,” Esma said, her voice softer than before. It was obvious that she was really thinking about his answer. “You said there were two reasons.”
“The second is that I don’t trust Captain Morris. He’s RA Chancy’s man and they want me out of the picture.”
“Because of your Demo corporal?”
“That’s right. It’s shit luck that RA Chancy is the senior officer here.”
“You really think they might do something treacherous?” she asked.
“Yes, I really do,” Dean said. “Coming after me is one thing, but putting my platoon, and now you, at risk is unjustifiable. He’s a naval commander, he should value his Recon platoons, yet I have no doubt he would sacrifice us all to see that his son isn’t held accountable for his actions.”
“So what do we do?” Esma asked.
“We carry out our orders,” Dean said. “And we do it with ruthless efficiency, while always keeping one eye on the other two platoons so they can’t sabotage us.”
“I can help,” Esma said.
“How?” Dean asked.
“I don’t have a full set of controls on this shuttle, but if I switch over to the right frequency I can monitor their vid feeds. Once the shuttle is secure, I’ll keep an eye on the other platoons and monitor their communications.”
“Great, that’s one thing off my plate,” Dean said.
In truth, he felt a huge sense of relief. His biggest fear was that the alien ship would retain its gravity field, blocking the rest of the armada from monitoring the Recon platoons once they breeched the alien vessel. With no one watching and Dean’s platoon without live ammo, the other platoons could do anything they wanted to ensure that Dean, and anyone loyal to him, didn’t make it out of the alien ship alive.
“Now I just have to hope this non-lethal ammo can get the job done against the Kroll.”
“You think this ship is from the Kroll Empire?
“Don’t you?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’ve given it a lot of thought. I didn’t see the other creatures you saw onboard. We only dealt with the four-legged, feline creatures.”
“I don’t think they’re the ones in charge.”
“Neither do I. Hang on, we’re lifting off.”
Dean didn’t feel a thing, but he enlarged the vid feed from the Charlemagne that was positioned just over the hangar. He saw their shuttle emerge and his platoon was staring out the shuttle’s windows like children on a field trip. The shuttle moved gracefully out of the hangar and into open space, then banked slowly toward the alien vessel.
“Here’s what we know. The aliens on that vessel are scavengers. Their ship is ample proof. It looks like one big hodgepodge of every space vessel they’ve encountered.”
“Yes, like a frankenstein ship,” Dean said.
“Exactly, only with no real effort to make the whole thing ascetically pleasing in any way. And from what you said, we weren’t the only creatures taken captive.”
“No,” Dean said. “There were Urgglatta on board.”
“So maybe the different creatures you fought weren’t the Kroll. Perhaps they were captured and put to use, just like their ships and space stations.”
“That’s an interesting theory,” Dean said, pondering the implications.
“It’s exactly how we’ve evolved,” Esma said, “intellectually, I mean. One person’s innovative idea or scientific discovery is taken, reverse engineered, and mass produced. It happens all the time.”
“But there’s a difference between using someone else’s genius and actually taking the people.”
“Not really,” Esma replied. “Think about our history. For thousands of years tribes and city states fought their neighbors, stole their goods, and put the losing group to work as slaves. Over time that scenario evolved into one where the brightest thinkers and most creative individuals are often snatched up, even from poorer nations, so that the inventions and innovations could be used to make a few richer.”
“But we don’t force people to be slaves anymore,” Dean said.
“Don’t we? Perhaps we don’t force conquered people into servitude anymore, but we make them dependent just the same. The downtrodden shifted from being slaves to being consumers, opening up new markets to be exploited by the powerful.”
“That’s a poor view of capitalism,” Dean said. “Or humanity for that matter.”
“It’s not political, it’s just an observation,” she went on. “We may be completely foreign to the Kroll, but their methodology is human enough.”
“How does that help me defeat them?” Dean asked, genuinely intrigued as the shuttle sailed across the void between the EsDef armada and drifting alien ship.
“Well, it wasn’t meant to be a tactical or strategic observation. But you said the aliens acted as if they had very limited manpower.”
“That’s true,” Dean said. “They came at us in waves. There’s plenty of room on their ship for thousands of beings, and yet they attacked in small groups, almost as if they didn’t want to waste what fighters they had against us.”
“So, a large ship, but limited combatants. The question then becomes, who is commanding the troops? Is it one of the creatures we’ve seen or something else completely? Is the space on that ship filled with superior beings, or more fighters?”
“That’s a hard question to answer,” Dean said. “But my gut tells me there’s more to these aliens than what we’ve seen.”
“I would agree. The only other issue being what have they been up to since you destroyed their ship?”
“Supposing they weren’t killed themselves,” Dean said.
“I doubt they were. The nature of their vessel suggests it is completely compartmentalized. And the gel substance that held the Roosevelt in place could have been used to seal off the vented sections.”
“So why are they still here?” Dean asked.
“Either because they’ve lost propulsion, or they’re waiting for reinforcements.”
“Let’s hope it’s their engines,” Dean said with a grimace that Esma couldn’t see.
“We’re approaching the alien vessel,” Lieutenant Owens’ voice crackled through Dean’s battle helmet. “ETA five minutes.”
“Five minutes, Staff Sergeant,” Dean said.
“Alright, people. Double check weapons and harnesses,” Chavez said. “When we hit their gravity field I don’t want to see anyone tumbling around this shuttle.”
“That’s easy for you to say, Staff Sergeant,” Adkins complained. “This little joy cruiser wasn’t built for HA.”
“Just brace yourself, Corporal,” Dean said. “Use the magnets in your armor to hold you in place.”
“Wrap a seat belt around your head and do us all a favor,” Harper teased.
“Hey, that’s not funny,” Wilson complained.
“I thought it was funny,” Ghost said.
“Weapons, restraints, and double check your armor!” Chavez bellowed. “This ain’t a damn pleasure cruise, platoon.”
“Better double check your suit too,” Dean told Esma. “If something happens and we lose cabin pressure you’ll be no good to us if your suit doesn’t hold up.”
The minutes ticked away and Dean’s mouth grew dry. Fear was always lurking in the back of his mind, like a monster hidden in the shadows of a dark room. He could feel its presence even when he was focused on other things. The feeling of dread grew as they drew nearer to the spinning alien ship.
“So far so good,” Lieutenant Owens said.
The long, alien ship was rotating l
ike an empty bottle placed on its side and spun. For days it had been drifting slowly away from the Alrakis space station, but no visible change had occurred in its trajectory or movement. The skillful operator onboard the Charlemagne was doing his best to match the speed of the spinning ship, although the shuttle’s engines couldn’t keep up with the alien vessel.
“I’m going to bring you into the ruined section,” Lieutenant Owens said. “We can’t match her spin but we’re close enou-”
The comlink went dead and Dean suddenly felt a sick feeling in his stomach and then a massive weight was pushing him down in his seat. There was no longer any doubt that the gravity field was still up and they were suddenly cut off from the rest of the armada. The other two shuttles from the Sparta were hanging back, watching to see if the touring vessel from the Ship Yards survived their maneuver.
“Esma!” Dean said, forgetting to address the O&A Captain by her title.
“I’ve got it!” she said, her hands taking hold of the panel with touchscreen controls.
The shuttle wasn’t made for movement in gravity. It was descending away from the spinning ship, as if it were going to fly under it.
“I can’t stop the drop,” Esma announced. “There’s no way to control this tub’s movement in gravity with any precision.”
“Are we going to make it onboard?” Dean asked.
“I wouldn’t call it a landing, but I’ll get us in.”
“Brace yourselves, platoon!” Dean shouted. “We’re going in hot!”
Chapter 7
The first moon landings utilized spacecraft called the Apollo Lunar Module which was engineered specifically to land and take off from the moon. It had a Descent Propulsion system that included four rockets controlled with a throttle that allowed the pilot to adjust the thrust of each rocket so that the perfectly balanced Module could be brought down safely in a low-gravity environment. It also had continuous wave radar that tracked altitude and speed of the craft’s descent.
Captain Esmerelda Dante had only one center-mounted rocket and no radar with which to land the unbalanced shuttle on a moving surface under what felt to Dean like extreme gravity. It was more gravity than he remembered the alien ship having, but he had no way of being certain. His platoon was deathly quiet, and every eye was on Esma as the O&A officer fought the touch screen controls.
“Brace!” she said, as the gaping maw of the alien ship rushed toward them.
They slid into the opening and almost immediately smashed into a floor section. The atmosphere screamed for three seconds as it was sucked from the tiny craft and was joined by the wail of rending steel. Then everything was quiet. The jagged ribbons from the metal flooring that had been ripped apart when the alien ship broke in half had crashed into the shuttle, cracking the polished plastic windows and tearing through the shuttle’s hull like a wrecking ball destroying an old building.
Dean could see where the metal had punched into the passenger compartment, and it was a miracle that no one was hurt. The gravity around the alien ship had settled, and although Dean could see out of the shuttle, he didn’t sense any movement.
“Everyone okay?” he asked.
“I’m sorry,” Esma explained. “We didn’t have enough thrust.”
“We’re alright,” Chavez said. “But we’ve lost atmo.”
“Captain,” Dean said to Esma as he rose to his feet, feeling every pound of his armor and then some, “how long can you remain in hard vacuum?”
Esma checked her suit. “Two hours. All systems are green.”
“Alright people, let’s find a way off this shuttle and into the ship.”
“You want me to stay here?” Esma asked him.
“For now. We need to get onboard and see if we can find somewhere with breathable atmosphere. Two hours isn’t enough time for a rescue.”
“But there are other ships coming in,” Esma said. “I could join one of them.”
“If they come in, that’s an option. But I’m guessing Rear Admiral Chancy will hold off on sending in the cavalry after watching us crash land.”
“He should,” Corporal Chancy said. “It makes no sense to risk EsDef ships just to rescue one platoon of Recon.”
Dean used his TCU to mute Chancy’s audio feed. He knew the arrogant corporal would only make him angry and he didn’t want anything clouding his judgment.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have tried to land,” Esma said.
“We’re alive, that’s all that matters. Recon doesn’t play things safe. We’re here, we’ll find a way into the ship, and complete our mission.”
“Damn straight!” Adkins said loudly.
“Recon!” Chavez shouted.
“First in the fight! Tip of the spear!” the platoon chanted.
“Let’s do it,” Dean ordered.
Getting the ramp open was their first challenge. The damaged transport had lost all power after the crash. Luckily, a large portion of the rear hatch was polished safety glass that had been partially broken. They used the butts of their rifles to punch the rest of the glass away and then climbed through the opening one at a time. Dean had no trouble scrambling through the broken window, but dropping down to the ledge below them was absolutely terrifying. Dean landed just inches from the edge of the deck that was torn away. There was nothing to hold onto, and nothing in front of Dean but the open void of space. If he fell, he would tumble down, thanks to the ship’s gravity well, and out into the nothingness of outer space. That thought was terrifying and Dean stepped back quickly from the ledge.
The HA Specialists had the hardest time, but they didn’t complain as they squeezed through the window and dropped to the deck below, their mechanized boots banging onto the metal flooring. Once his platoon was on the alien ship they moved quickly away from the shuttle. It didn’t feel right leaving Esma behind, but Dean had no way of knowing what dangers might be waiting for them. The sheer size of the alien craft was staggering. Dean felt as if someone had knocked over a sky scraper and he had stumbled into the rubble. They were on a section of the ship that had been pumped with molten metal. It had hardened into coiling ribbons that they had to climb over and scramble under just to get further into the ship.
“Sir!" Chavez called out, pointing to a hatch overhead, “it could lead to a part of the ship that’s still intact.”
“Get up there, Staff Sergeant,” Dean ordered. “Harper, go with him. Take it slow. Send in the MSVs to check things out before you go through yourselves.”
It only took Chavez and Harper a few minutes to get up the narrow rungs of the ladder and twist open the hatch. He heard Chavez cursing under his breath, and Harper looked away.
“Report, Staff Sergeant,” Dean said.
“It looks like a holding cell of some kind,” Chavez said. “It’s pretty large. It must have vented.”
“How do you know?” Adkins asked.
“There’s bodies,” Chavez reported.
“Species?” Dean inquired.
“Look like Urgglatta.”
“Get in there and see if it’s the main deck, Staff Sergeant. If it is, it should have a glass wall.”
“Yes sir,” Chavez said, before climbing up into the darkness.
Dean checked to make sure he was on the open frequency. They were the only humans inside the gravity well, that Dean knew of, but he wanted to keep Esma in the loop.
“Captain Dante,” he said. “Do you copy?”
“Loud and clear,” she responded.
“Any sign of our backup?”
“I’ve seen them when we swing by their position,” Esma said. “I don’t think they’ve moved.”
“Well, that’s not surprising,” Dean said.
“I’m trying to raise anyone outside the gravity well, but so far there’s nothing.”
“Good, stay busy. We’ll keep you apprised of our situation and come back for you as soon as we find a safe place inside.”
“Thank you, Captain,” Esma said.
Dean wanted to
say more, to reassure her, but he didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable either. Romance between officers wasn’t scandalous, but it seemed proper to be discrete.
“What have you got, Staff Sergeant?” Dean asked.
“Looks like you’re right, sir. I’m at the glass, but the interior of the ship is dark. Can’t see a damn thing.”
“Look for a doorway,” Dean ordered. “That goes for the rest of you, too. We need to find a way into this vessel.”
The platoon spread out, everyone searching for a way through the masses of extruded metal that had flooded the deck. There were gaps in the carnage, but most were too small for the massive HA Specialists with their oversized shields which they carried on their backs like militaristic turtles. There were holes in the deck where the molten metal had burned its way through the ship. Dean could see down into the space below the deck they were currently on, but there was no light or signs that the space below them was intact.
“No way in or out other than the hatch we came through, Captain,” Chavez said. “We could burn our way through the glass, but if the passage beyond is sealed off, we’ll compromise it.”
“Captain,” came Ghost’s Texan drawl. “Looks like I’ve got something.”
Dean moved over to where the Sniper had slid between a thick pillar of raw metal and the wall of the corridor. He looked into the gap and saw a light ahead.
“Not sure what I’m seeing,” Ghost said. “There’s light, and some kind of barrier. Looks like slime of some sort.”
“Adkins,” Dean called to the big HA Specialist, who hurried over to where Dean was standing. “Can you get through here if we take off your shields?”
“Yes sir, we can make that.”
“Good, make it happen. Looks like this is our only way into the ship.”
“Captain, it’s definitely slime, I think we can push our way through,” Ghost reported.
“Hold there, Sergeant,” Dean ordered. “Tallgrass, Chancy, go with him. The three of you test that barrier and report back. I’m getting the shields off the HA so we can squeeze them back there.”
Embracing Oblivion: Wolfpack Book 3 Page 4
