Refuge 9 (Fire and Rust Book 5)

by Anthony James

  “Captain Conway, you and your squad are to proceed to the mission objective immediately.”

  “Does that mean the mission is a go?”

  “Yes. Proceed immediately,” Kenyon repeated. He sounded like he was about to cut the channel again.

  “Where’s the Iron Cell? What about our backup?” asked Conway quickly.

  “The Iron Cell is gone, Captain. Until we find out what happened to it, there will be no backup.”

  “Have the Raggers started shooting? I need to know if they’re going to appear on Glesia.”

  “The Iron Cell is gone – I didn’t say it was destroyed. It vanished off our sensors about fifty thousand klicks above the surface. The Raggers say it wasn’t anything to do with them.”

  “Then what?”

  “I can’t talk.” Kenyon hesitated. “I don’t have the answers you’re looking for. Head to the objective and recover those data arrays.”

  This time the channel did go dead, leaving Conway trying to understand the incomplete picture he’d been handed.

  “We’re moving out,” he said.

  The combat suit computers were loaded with the scan data from the Broadsword and the Gradior. Conway got a fix on the target location and his HUD reported the distance to be approximately 1850 meters. It was an easy stroll on flat ground and a completely different proposition here on Glesia.

  They set off, bowed into the wind. Conway was ready to believe the gusts were somehow altering their direction expressly so that they blew in his face. A thin layer of frost covered his suit and when he brushed it with a hand, glistening particles were whipped away in an instant.

  “I look like a damn snowman,” said Berg.

  The clinging ice made it harder to visually locate the soldiers and they were forced to rely increasingly on comms pings to stay close. Nobody wanted to get separated out here.

  The terrain was broken, but with no major obstacles. The ground undulated and where the rock was exposed, it was pocked and rough like the boulder they’d sheltered behind. Conway wasn’t willing to take risks and he stepped carefully in case the ice concealed hazards ready to catch out the unwary. The helmet sensors had the ability to take soundings and Conway used the facility to search out hidden ravines.

  It took ninety minutes for the squad to finish this part of their journey. The target building remained invisible right until they were almost at its base. And then it was there – a huge ruined structure made from rectangular blocks of darkest grey stone. Most of the blocks were scattered on the ground, bearing heat scars from plasma explosions. Conway stopped next to one – it came as high as his chest and the edges were covered in a sandy-colored material which wasn’t mortar, but which he guessed had once performed the same function.

  The building itself had once been eighty meters high. Wherever the roof had gone, it wasn’t here and the walls were lopsided and with many gaps. The entire structure looked badly unstable, like it would collapse at any moment. The wind howled, sending sheets of ice fragments cascading against the stone.

  “After you, sir,” said Kemp, his head tipped back so he could see the upper section of the facing wall.

  Conway looked too and saw little other than darkness filled with racing specks of ice. The stars were hidden and the Trion-V sun was much too distant to trouble Glesia with its light. “You’re all heart, Private.”

  While Lieutenant Rembra and Sergeant Lockhart set the troops defensively, Conway approached one of the larger gaps in the wall. The damage came almost to ground level, leaving only a few disturbed blocks to clamber over. These blocks prevented Conway from seeing what lay on the floor inside, though he was able to see the walls higher up. Everything was flat and featureless.

  “Aliens know how to do alien,” said Corporal Barron.

  “That’s right.” Conway furrowed his brow in thought. “This doesn’t look like something the Raggers would build.”

  “You think?”

  Conway didn’t wait around and scrambled onto the closest block. The next one was tipped at an angle and he walked carefully upwards, relying on his high-grip soles to keep him from slipping.

  “No ice,” he said.

  The wind intensified when he reached the top and Conway crouched in order to present a smaller target both to the elements and anything which might be waiting inside. He wasn’t expecting enemy troops, but maybe it was possible whoever built this place had left automated defenses which still endured.

  A careful scan of the interior wasn’t exactly reassuring. The floor was littered with more of the same blocks which made good cover for anything hiding below. Conway watched carefully and saw no sign of occupation.

  “Anything, sir?” asked Lockhart.

  “I don’t know,” said Conway. “The interior is empty apart from more of these blocks. Maybe it was used for storage or something before it all got shipped out.”

  “This is definitely the place?”

  “I hope so.” Conway was certain he’d led his squad to the coordinates provided by Colonel Thornton. Maybe there were other structures close by, but the mission documentation didn’t mention anything other than this one place. The north wall was nearly intact and Conway thought he saw an overhang or something. He squinted but couldn’t make it out.

  “Corporal Barron, get up here. We’re going for a closer look.”

  “Yes, sir.” Barron slung her rifle and climbed nimbly. She stared inside and shrugged. “Not much to see.”

  “Not from here,” said Conway.

  With that, he executed a controlled slide down the block. It shifted a little beneath his weight and he heard stone scraping. He dropped off the end and stepped away. The block didn’t slide and hadn’t moved more than a few inches. Conway stepped to the edge of the new block and dropped to the ground, landing with a thud. Moments later, Barron was next to him.

  “That far wall is in a worse state than this one,” she said, pointing towards the other side of the building.

  “I saw it from back there,” said Conway, thumbing over his shoulder.

  “We’re meant to find the lower levels, sir. There must be a lift. Or steps. Given the look of this place it’ll definitely be steps.”

  “Let’s check out the north wall.”

  Conway studied the fallen stones to see if there was an easy way across to the north end of the structure. It was going to take some clambering. With a sigh, he stepped around the closest block and there his eyes fell on a silvery-black shape on the floor. He knew what it was at once but crouched to be sure. His steady hand reached out and flipped over the corpse so that he could see through its visor.

  The stealth suit contained a dead Ragger. The alien’s body wasn’t shriveled and it bore no obvious marks to indicate what had killed it.

  “There’s another one over here, sir,” said Barron, standing at the edge of the block.

  At that moment, Private Warner found another outside and told everyone about it on the comms.

  “It’s covered in ice,” he said. “I was almost standing on it.”

  “Captain, you might want to take a look at this,” said Sergeant Lockhart.

  Conway rose and stepped away from the dead Ragger. He hadn’t been given the precise reason for this limited initial deployment, but he was beginning to understand exactly why Colonel Thornton hadn’t wanted to commit everyone to the surface in one go. Now those soldiers were missing, along with the Iron Cell, leaving Conway and his lone squad to handle the mission. The thought made him angry and he climbed up the broken outer wall once more, to see what had got Sergeant Lockhart so excited.

  Chapter Eight

  “A shuttle, sir,” said Lockhart, crouched next to Conway behind one of the outlying blocks. The main structure was nearly a hundred meters to their left and difficult to see even at this short distance. Everyone else from the squad was staying low, waiting to see what would happen.

  Conway peered into the darkness and saw nothing. When the wind shifted, it brought the f
aintest of droning sounds which his helmet microphone amplified into something that was unmistakably that of an engine.

  “We should go take a look,” he said.

  “If it’s Raggers, we’re meant to have a truce,” said Lockhart.

  Both men knew exactly how easy it would be to break a truce down here on Glesia and get away with it.

  “Move up,” said Conway. “We’ll deal with what comes.”

  Movement in the storm heralded the arrival of the closest two soldiers, the first being Private Kemp. The Fangrin Gundro came next. He carried his chain gun with care, wary in case its long barrels hit one of the blocks and made a sound that would carry. Conway didn’t think there was anything living out there, but he wanted to be sure prior to searching the ruined building.

  The soldiers darted from place to place in the direction of the shuttle, making use of the available cover. It was difficult to be sure where the spaceship was located or its distance. The wind distorted everything – one moment, the propulsion was a few meters ahead, the next it was a hundred meters to the left.

  Eventually, they came to the vessel, 150 meters from the target structure. The shuttle was mid-sized and measured forty meters from nose to tail, with rounded edges and angular plates of armor. Many of the details were concealed beneath a layer of ice and where the alloy protruded, it was so dark as to make the entire craft merge perfectly with the landscape.

  “No movement,” said Lockhart.

  Conway requested a channel to the Broadsword. Lieutenant Kenyon answered.

  “We found a Ragger shuttle,” said Conway.

  “We’ve been assured there’s no active Ragger presence, Captain. You’re alone down there.”

  “I don’t like it. I feel like my own side is holding out on me.”

  “Our Ragger contact is making it hard for us. There’s plenty we don’t know.”

  “And there’s plenty I don’t know either,” said Conway pointedly.

  The channel went on mute for a few seconds and then Captain Griffin spoke. “The Raggers have told us about something called a death pulse. It killed their personnel and that’s what they need us for. We’re immune to it.”

  “That’s what they told you?” asked Conway, making no effort to hide his bitterness. “It’s my soldiers down here, sir.”

  “This is the mission, Captain. I wouldn’t have approved the deployment if I believed you’d be snuffed out by whatever the hell this pulse is.”

  “You don’t know?”

  “We’re looking into it. Those Raggers are dead and you aren’t.”

  “How often does the pulse go off?”

  “Often enough to stop the Raggers getting their data arrays. It’s the same thing you encountered on Qali-5. You might experience some physical discomfort but not death.”

  Conway tried to understand, but it was hard. Real hard. “What happened to the Iron Cell?”

  “We’re dealing with snakes up here, Captain. The Raggers tell us what they want to tell us and no more.”

  “And what did they say about the transport?”

  “They said it’s lost.”

  “That’s all?”

  “Yes. There’s plenty they aren’t saying and I’m doing what I can to help you, Captain Conway. The problem is, we’re facing another capital ship. Not only that, Lieutenant Dominguez has detected at least three other cloaked Ragger warships in our vicinity. We’re outnumbered and outgunned. This isn’t something we can fight our way out of.”

  “Bad shit for everyone.”

  “And the Sekar haven’t even turned up to the party yet.”

  “I think I prefer them to the Raggers, sir. From what I’ve seen of the Sekar, they just straight up want to kill everything. The Raggers are the same but with two faces.”

  “They have a lot more than two faces.” Griffin sounded like he’d had enough of the aliens.

  “So we proceed with the mission?”

  “I won’t lie to you Captain Conway. I could pick you and your squad up from Glesia and we could all fly home, assuming the Raggers allow it. However, you’re there and I’m relying on you to turn this around.”

  “No pressure.”

  “Lots of pressure.” Griffin laughed suddenly. “Do this. Please.”

  “I’ll give it my best shot, sir.”

  The channel went dead, leaving Conway’s mind in turmoil. He packaged up his fears and shoved them into a corner of his brain where they wouldn’t distract him. With that done, he gave his squad a brief update. The soldiers were not impressed by the situation or the decisions which had led to them being effectively thrown into the lion’s den.

  “We can bitch about it later,” said Lockhart. “We’re alive, so let’s make the best of it.”

  “I’m going to check out that shuttle,” said Conway. “Freeman and Warner, you’re with me.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Conway was now certain the shuttle wasn’t relevant and he was equally certain there was nothing living onboard. Nevertheless, he didn’t intend strolling up to it like he was buying a hotdog at a street corner stall and he took advantage of the few intervening stone blocks to get as close as possible. Freeman and Warner knew the ropes and didn’t require management during the approach.

  This side of the shuttle was sealed, with no way in. Conway did his best to sprint across the last twenty meters, his feet struggling for grip on the gravel-encrusted ice. When he made it to the shuttle, he waited for the other two to join him. Then, he ducked beneath the hull and between the numerous landing legs. The spaceship’s underside wasn’t too far above the ground and he was required to stoop to avoid damaging his helmet.

  “Anything?” asked Lieutenant Rembra.

  “I’ll tell you when I find out.”

  On the far side of the shuttle, a single ramp was in the open position, the low end resting on the ground. The interior was lit, though poorly and the illumination hardly extended beyond the bay. Conway lifted his head over the side of the ramp and looked inside.

  “It’s full of dead Raggers,” he said on the comms.

  The bodies were piled high in the bay, so many it made Conway think the shuttle had been crammed to twice its maximum capacity. Several of the bodies had slid down the ramp and formed their own little heap at the bottom, with gun barrels protruding upwards like silver fenceposts. Freeman and Warner both swore at the grim sight.

  “If they’re dead you should come back, sir,” said Lockhart.

  Conway wanted nothing more than to leave the shuttle, but he couldn’t. “This could be our ticket out of here, Sergeant. I need to look inside.”

  “This death pulse must have hit when they landed,” said Freeman.

  “What about the other ones amongst those blocks?” asked Warner.

  “Who’s to say the Raggers only came here once?” Conway had another thought. “There could be hundreds more, frozen underneath this ice.”

  “Maybe we should finish up here?” said Warner hopefully.

  Conway didn’t answer and stepped onto the boarding ramp. It was ridged and his feet didn’t slip. He paused at the top and checked out the bay. It filled much of the interior space and he could see the seats amongst the bodies, along with benches against the wall.

  “I’m going for a look.”

  An exit led from the forward bulkhead and getting there wasn’t easy. The power in the Ragger stealth suits had failed and the bodies within were frozen solid. Bones snapped and popped as Conway made his way towards the door. He turned once and saw Freeman on the threshold.

  “At least there’s no wind, huh?”

  The door access panel showed a red security light, which gave Conway an opportunity to test out the new security software they’d added to his suit. He reverently placed his hand on the flat panel and his suit automatically ran a program the ULAF had obtained from the Fangrin. The panel light went green and the door opened.

  On the far side were steps leading to another door. Conway climbed and repe
ated the procedure to disable the security. The door opened, revealing the compact cabin. Conway stepped inside and looked around - most of the hardware was recognizable in its function, though maybe not its operation. The Ragger crew of three were dead and frozen, their harnesses still in place and keeping them upright in their seats.

  “Everything’s online,” he said, approaching the single console which extended the full width of the cabin.

  “Can you fly it?” asked Lieutenant Rembra.

  “I reckon.” In truth, Conway wasn’t totally sure. With a gun, he had the confidence. Flying was still a challenge.

  He spent a minute checking out the instrumentation on the shuttle. He believed he could fly it but would prefer it if the Iron Cell reappeared and performed the extraction.

  “Let’s get on,” he said, descending the steps.

  The death pulse came. It was like the pressure Conway remembered from Qali-5, only condensed into a period of three or four seconds. With a depth of bass that produced a resonation in the alloy walls of the shuttle and made Conway feel like he was being beaten with meat tenderizers, the pulse reached its peak and then vanished like it had never existed. The blood pounded in his temples and Conway wondered if this was what it felt like to be run over by a truck. He forced himself to ignore the pain and got on the comms to make sure nobody was dead.

  “No fatalities, sir,” said Corporal Brice, sounding like she’d been woken up two hours after downing a whole bottle of vodka. “Want me to plug the med-box into someone and run a few tests?”

  “You’ve got as long as it takes me to get back to the squad, Corporal.”

  “That’s not even enough to time to connect the probe, sir.”

  Conway clambered his way back through the bay, trampling the bodies without guilt. Some he knocked angrily aside in order to make an easier passage to the exit. Corporal Freeman was still uttering curses through his chin speaker and Warner was crouched down like he was suffering.

  “Damn, that was worse than any hangover,” he said.

  “You’d best get used to it, Private,” said Conway. “I don’t think that’s going to be the last one.”