by John Walker
The shuttle set down in a small clearing amidst thick trees covered in vines and moss. The ground itself was soft from meters of crushed leaves and mold. As she gestured in the direction they needed to go, she looked at the sky then turned to the path she’d decided upon. Once they stepped into the jungle, the canopy would blot out the sun.
Each of them wore only light armor but even that provided enough environmental protection to offset the heat. Her computer showed that it was thirty-five degrees celsius with eighty-seven percent humidity. Losing their suits would make this an incredibly miserable trip and she already felt moisture clinging to her clothes and helmet.
Fortunately, their face screens were specially designed to not fog up or they’d be unable to see anything at all. As they stepped out of the sun, the dim glow of light shining through patches above made the scene eerie but it was far from silent. They heard cries of birds and other animals, all out of sight but surrounding them on every side.
“This place is cheery,” one of the marines said. She had no idea which one. “Kind of like a vid with the ape man guy.”
“Can it,” Hoffner said. “Focus or one of those things out there will eat your ass for lunch.”
Clea didn’t disagree. Any predators willing to get close to them would definitely enjoy one of them for a meal. She’d heard of such things but in a mostly civilized area such as the research facility, she couldn’t imagine they’d encounter much. Her bigger fear came from the carnivorous plants. Those were hard to identify and tended to kill quick.
“How long will it take to get to our destination?” Hoffner asked.
“At present speed, just over an hour,” Clea replied. “I’m estimating not much more or less as we’ll undoubtedly face delays and windfalls.”
“Jesus, I hoped to get a lot closer.”
“We’d tip off the enemy if we closed in too much. They’re in the general area after all.”
Hoffner nodded but didn’t seem happy. She understood. The humans proved to want tangible information before every mission. Their desire for solid intelligence made little sense to her though. They were often forced to improvise because what they thought they knew turned out to be false.
Her own people did the research then relied on skill and resourcefulness to tackle missions. It put her at odds with Gray a few times in their earlier career, mostly on a hypothetical level. She deferred to him in all things aboard the Behemoth but when they debated, she pushed her opinion much harder.
A few bouts like that and she felt she grew as an officer, both tactically and strategically.
“What is that?” one of the men said.
“Did you see something move up ahead?”
Everyone aimed their weapons in the general area up ahead of them. Leaves rustled. “Hold your fire,” Hoffner said. “No one pulls a trigger unless I say.”
Clea tapped at her scanner, using the HUD in her helmet to read the results. A close check of the area revealed a life form nearby, something small. The device provided a picture from the animal database and she let out a sigh of relief. “Stand down.” She sent the image to the other soldiers, that of a colorful bird. “It’s not dangerous.”
“Move out, people.” Hoffner sounded annoyed but nodded at Clea.
Two hundred yards into the bush, the terrain became more difficult to traverse. Jenks and Walsh cut a path through, their rifles slung on their backs. Clea double checked their path and they were on course for what should’ve been only moderately difficult. Imagine what the hard one would’ve looked like.
Her scans indicated the growth occurred in less than two days. Forty-eight hours generated the obstacles, which seemed fast enough to watch it if one was patient. She looked up and wondered how much taller the vines were than the day before. One consolation for such robust foliage involved it hampering the enemy just as much as them.
But it’s going to slow us down a lot more than I thought. I’ll recalculate our ETA and factor in additional trail blazing.
Half an hour later, they cleared a path and made decent time. Jenks and Walsh stopped suddenly on a small rise, staring out to their right. The rest of the men lined up with them as Hoffner and Clea joined them. A break in the trees offered a stupendous view of a valley some five miles away.
A skirmish had broken out between alliance personnel and the enemy. Every marine knew what those things were capable of now after the intruders on the ship. They’d all been briefed and shown the videos. Even the most arrogant and abrasive amongst them considered the danger they represented with respect.
They witnessed a small skirmish, a battle away from the mainstay conflict raging in some valley nearby. As the enemy cut a swath of destruction through the alliance troops, the brutality fell nothing short of shocking. Limbs flew in the air, bodies were hewn in half and several men were decapitated.
“We might be able to get there before they lose,” one of the marines said. “Provide some backup.”
“We cannot,” Clea said. “Even if we were able, our mission is to extract the civilians and keep the data out of enemy hands.”
“They’re your people!” The guy shouted, advancing on her. “And you’re just watching them get slaughtered!”
Clea hesitated for half a moment. “Only because we’re not moving. We have to go.”
“What kind of—” The man’s comment got cut off by Hoffner.
“You heard the woman,” Hoffner said. “We have a job to do and we’re not going to finish it by standing around jaw jacking. Get your asses in gear. Now!”
Clea took up pace beside him as they started off again, moving at a brisk pace.
“I don’t know about these alliance guys,” a random voice said. “She didn’t even care about her people, man.”
“Come on, do you think us eight could’ve done much about that?” Random voice two spoke up. “Care has nothing to do with it. Be practical for a minute.”
“Those soldiers were doing their jobs so we can do ours,” Random voice three added.
“Getting slaughtered without backup?” Random voice one retorted. “Sounds noble.”
“You realize we would’ve died down there, right?” Random voice three snapped. “That we’re wearing light armor for this pleasant little hike?”
“If I would’ve been down there, I would’ve wanted some help, that’s all.” Random voice one again.
“You just want to blame someone.” Random voice four jumped in. “And that doesn’t help shit. Drop it, man. You’re not winning many allies here.”
“Speak for yourself,” Random voice five decided he had opinions too. “I, for one don’t give much of a crap about this planet. I think we should’ve stayed home.”
“God, not that again.” Random voice two lamented. “You’ve been complaining since we got our orders.”
“As should you,” Five said. “This is a BS assignment and we shouldn’t be out here.”
“You need a new line, man,” Three added. “I’m sick of the same stuff out of your mouth day after day.”
“I’m sick of all this talking,” Hoffner said. “Now shut your traps and focus! Jesus, I’d be shocked if the entire planet doesn’t know we’re here! Next man who speaks without reporting something is getting a demerit.”
Clea thought about their concerns, wondering about perspective. Men like these, marines on the ground, never seemed to have the high level view. Even those who agreed with the vision of their leaders did so out of faith and trust rather than understanding. The ramifications of the research facility data falling into enemy hands reached much farther than an alliance inconvenience.
If the enemy employed the information, they’d have a Protocol Seven style advantage only theirs wouldn’t fail. They’d know everything about how alliance weapons are designed and planned, how the ships are constructed and the structural weaknesses. So many little things which would amount to a catastrophe.
I wish I could explain that to these men so they understood why they a
re here.
They didn’t want to hear it though. Each of them harbored their own feelings and prejudices, their passions, strengths and weaknesses. Those who took up arms the way they did tended to be far less interested in grand campaigns. They cared about surviving, getting the job done and getting home.
Justifying the job might matter if they lost someone but in the midst of it, they just wanted to get in and get out. Clea agreed with that part of the mentality however, she always viewed the big picture. If someone had assigned her this task, she would’ve known, through common sense, the value of what they wanted her to save.
Of course, if people honestly thought bombing the facility from orbit was a good idea, then there’d be no convincing them. Hypocritical thinking at its finest. The same people who didn’t mind annihilating the base and all its inhabitants were the same ones who wanted to rush in to help soldiers in a hopeless battle.
She’d encountered plenty of that from humans in the past. They could dispassionately suggest the destruction of a thing and in the same breath act selflessly. Such dichotomy made little sense to Clea and much as she tried to understand, she eventually gave up. Many ideals humans lived by confused her. Their duality most of all.
The road went both ways. She knew she confounded some of the humans as well. Since the day she joined them as their liaison officer, she knew she’d have an uphill battle winning friends or expressing herself in a way they understood. Some of them tried, some didn’t but it took her months before any of them really warmed up to her.
Clea never blamed any of them. They’d just had a hostile encounter with aliens and another alien joined them shortly after. None of them had a chance to mourn their losses before they were faced with more unknown, another strange factor to consider as they moved forward into a vast and dangerous universe—one they didn’t even know existed.
Humans can only tolerate so much change before they react violently. Luckily for her, they had a focus for their rage. History showed what they did when they grew tired of paradigm shifts. When the alliance ships left and she became a lone Kielan among so many humans, she harbored plenty of fear. It proved to be unfounded for the most part but there were still some who did not like her solely because she was different.
“Jenks!” Walsh’s voice tore Clea from her reverie and she looked sharply ahead. The other marines spread out, aiming their weapons. She joined Hoffner as he rushed forward. Her scanner read clear.
They reached the edge of a gaping hole. Jenks was at the bottom, light from the top right of his armor beaming up at them. “What the hell happened?” Hoffner demanded.
“I was in lead,” Jenks replied. “And the ground just gave way right beneath me.”
“Are you hurt?”
“I should be…but I’m not.” He directed their attention to pointed sticks roughly half a meter long sticking up all around him. “Miracle I didn’t get impaled.”
“They don’t look too fresh,” Walsh said. “These are kind of old, sir.”
“You might’ve been saved by the fact this is a really old trap.” Hoffner looked around. “Get him out of there and let’s keep moving but this will definitely slow us down. If we have to worry about that kind of thing on top of the predators, carnivorous plants and potential enemy contact…”
Clea nodded. “I know, sir.”
Hoffner pulled her aside and switched their coms to private. Still, he whispered, “what could’ve dug that? Do you know of any other indigenous life here?”
“No, sir.” Clea shook her head. “I scanned the entire planet with their satellites. If there’s anything here, it knows how to go unnoticed from advanced technology. However, I believe they must have died out or been gone for a while. You saw the state of that.”
“I’m kind of surprised it wasn’t filled in.” Hoffner hummed.
“Sir, it was.” Clea patched her scan over to his helmet. “As you can see, those sticks extended four meters into the ground but we only saw half a meter. Plus, he only fell two meters. I believe that ditch was quite a bit larger and far more frightening when it was made.”
“Jesus…” Hoffner sighed. “At least it wasn’t as dangerous as it could’ve been. I wonder how clever these natives were. Let’s hope they stuck to shovels and sticks.” He turned to the marines who had just helped Jenks out of the hole. “Alright, people we have another threat to worry about and the next one might not be mostly ruined. Stay frosty.”
“Hard to do in this climate, Captain,” Walsh replied. The long stare he received made him lift a hand. “Not the best time for a joke, sir. Sorry about that.”
“Just get going.”
Clea fell in behind them, adjusting her scans for the new variable. She had no idea if she’d be able to detect dangers before they happened but it would be nice. How long ago had the creatures who did this disappeared? Perhaps they had more information at the facility. Her sister harbored a keen interest in xenobiology.
The thought of her sibling made her deflate and her stomach do a flip. She wanted the older woman to be okay, to ensure she was safe but her irrational nerves at seeing her again wouldn’t die down. Both of them had a job to do and Clea knew that took priority over any emotional attachment or reunion.
I just hope you’re okay, sister. I’m coming. Just hang on a little longer.
Chapter 9
“Another direct hit on our starboard bow,” Redding said. “Olly?”
“Shields holding,” Olly replied. “I’m manually regulating the shields. It’s a trick I picked up from Protocol Seven. By fluctuating the frequency, I can enhance the integrity of our defenses…well, considerably.”
“Keep giving it to them,” Gray said. “Don’t let up.”
“Search and Rescue ships have arrived at the alliance vessels,” Agatha said. “They’re reporting little enemy activity in the area.”
“Cause we’re keeping them all busy,” Adam muttered.
“Enemy shields down!” Olly shouted. “Hit them hard, Redding! Go!”
Redding unleashed the pulse cannons, turning the ship sharply to give them a second barrage from the other side. The enemy ship began to list, drifting away from them before cracking at several points. Bodies were torn through the hull breaches and as the ship divided completely in half, something exploded cascading an orange ball before going dark.
“One down, two to go,” Gray said. “Not doing too bad, huh?”
“At least we’ve evened the odds,” Adam said. “Again.”
“The Crystal Font has started harassing the ship that was landing troops. Reinforcements to the surface have been totally stopped.” Olly tapped away at the console. “They’ve engaged and the final ship is moving toward us.”
“Good, we can wrap this up.” Gray sat down.
“Captain,” Agatha called, “I’m picking up a signal riding a frequency I didn’t even know existed.”
“What?” Gray turned. “What do you mean?”
“I was monitoring communications and saw an anomaly so I cleaned it up and tapped in. It’s an enemy com link.” She worked the controls for several moments. “I’ve recorded it and putting it through the translator. If it’s our opponents, the alliance database has quite a bit of their language documented. I might be able to get the rudimentary message.”
“It’s probably a mayday,” Adam said. “From one of the enemy ships.”
Agatha shook her head. “No, sir. It’s coming from outside the system.”
“That’s why you’ve never seen the frequency,” Olly said. “Because they’re using FTL communications. You know what this means?”
Tim spoke up, “that they have a buoy of some kind out here…probably dropped by one of their own ships.”
“Right!” Olly nodded. “They brought a booster to speak to someone outside the system.”
“Essentially giving their entire fleet the coordinates for this place.” Gray ran his hands through his hair. “Okay then, that makes this more exciting than it needs
to be. White, have you translated?”
“Only the beginning, sir. They’re talking about…being here…yes, they’ll be here soon.” Agatha really scrutinized her screen. “They mention a time frame…I’m translating the alliance part now too…oh my…six hours.”
“What’s in six hours?” Adam stood. “They’ll be here in six hours?”
“Their fleet.” Agatha nodded. “Apparently, a vessel left the sector with the coordinates and the info they needed to lock on to the buoy.”
Gray leaned back in his seat. “We have that much time to pick up the researchers and their data then get the hell out of here. Not to mention the rescue op.” He nodded to Agatha. “Tell that to the Crystal Font right now. We’ll need to pick up the pace and finish these two jokers off fast. It seems our hand has officially been forced. Let’s make it not matter, people.”
***
Kale paced the bridge of the Crystal Font, watching the battle unfold through the view screen. They seemed to be making good headway and though it would be absurd to call it a decisive victory, between his ship and the Behemoth, they certainly proved to be quite successful. Two enemies remained and with such even odds, he felt confident.
“Anthar,” Wena, his communication’s Zanthari spoke up. “The Behemoth just sent us a message from a known enemy frequency. Hostile reinforcements are coming and will be here in four point five casons. It seems to be an entire fleet.”
“I see.” Kale frowned. This left them precious little time to finish their multiple missions. I hope Clea and her marines are up to the task down there. We won’t be any help. “We need to buy time for rescue ops and the soldiers on the ground. Order all pilots to resupply now and get back to our damaged vessels.”
Kale returned to his seat and read the reports of current activities. Search and rescue only just began operations and ground forces stated they were in danger of being overrun. If not for the timely strafing by four fighters, and the destroyed drop ships, they’d already be dead. He pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to settle his nerves.
