This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
THE FALLEN
An Asura Press Book
PRINTING HISTORY
Second (Revised) Edition Trade Paperback / 2015
Copyright © 2014 by Paul B. Spence
Cover Art by: Jereme J. Peabody
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission.
ISBN: 978-1-929928-22-4
www.paulbspence.com
[email protected]
For Grace – may your wings never tire.
It looked as if a night of dark intent
Was coming, and not only a night, an age.
Robert Frost, Once by the Pacific
Sonorous metal blowing martial sounds:
At which the universal host up sent
A shout that tore hell's conclave, and beyond
Frighted the reign of Chaos and old Night.
John Milton, Paradise Lost
Chapter One
The cold, hard white sun edged above the horizon, casting long shadows across the desolate landscape. Lieutenant Commander Hrothgar Tebrey perched atop the nearly vertical basaltic cliff as he studied the base below him. Adaptive camouflage and electronic countermeasures on his powered armor made him virtually invisible to all but the most sophisticated detection equipment. He scanned his surroundings again, but nothing moved except fine grains of ice, dancing in the howling wind.
He stood, shedding ice from his armor, and stepped from the kilometer-high cliff.
To his left, kilometers away, light glinted from the frigid, turbulent ocean. The violence of the waves matched his thoughts perfectly. As he fell, the breadth of the glacial valley below remained shrouded in darkness. The pale, dim lights that marked the perimeter of the Wolf Empire encampment winked like dying stars. Searchlights swept the open area around the encampment; the enemy obviously worried about being attacked, as well they should. In the center of the installation, beyond the watchtowers, the prefabricated buildings huddled together as if for warmth. The wind howled past his helmet as he fell, but Tebrey was comfortable in his sealed suit, even with the air temperature well below zero.
On the far side of the encampment, local civilians – now prisoners – in identical grey coveralls were being driven from their crude shacks to work in the strip mines at the edge of the base. Tebrey's tactical computer estimated over a thousand men, women, and children toiling in the freezing cold. The psychic stench of their misery rolled across him in nauseating waves.
Armed guards in white tactical dress, oblivious to his scrutiny, directed the captives' labors. Tebrey wasn't sure why the Wolf Empire had decided to invade Serendipity. There were no rare mineral resources here, and the planet held little strategic value. It was a worthless, backwater planet on the far edge of Earth Federation space. The planet wasn't even industrialized. In short, there was absolutely no logical reason for the invasion, much less the forced labor.
It was as if the sole purpose of the invasion had been to make people suffer.
It was exactly the sort of activity that Admiral Meleeka had told him to keep an eye open for, and he didn't think it was coincidence that it had happened in a system close to where he had been sent to investigate. Although Tebrey's orders were for reconnaissance only, he couldn't just sit by and watch people suffer, not when he could do something about it.
Tebrey had been aboard the FSS Warbird when it had suddenly been diverted to the Pi Orionis system. They'd picked up a garbled distress call from the planet. The Wolf Empire occasionally conducted raids in this region of space, but no one had expected the Empire to have fortified positions and ground troops in place on the surface. There had been no response from the planetary government, so Tebrey and Hunter made planetfall while the Warbird engaged the two Wolf Empire destroyers in orbit.
Tebrey and his companion had found the encampment below. The enemy troops had no backup, no orbital support. It was suicide. It didn't make sense, and that worried him, because no one was that stupid. They had to have a reason for what they were doing, and he had to find out what it was.
He checked his weapons again as the ground rushed toward him. Serendipity possessed a slightly higher gravity than standard, and he adjusted the gravitic engine on his suit to compensate, somersaulting to orient himself to the ground. Tebrey found that every battle was accompanied by a curious mental calmness. He was only truly nervous when he couldn't act. Now that he was committed to action, he was surprised to note that he was actually... happy.
Why would they do this? Tebrey asked Hunter via his mindlink.
I've never understood most of human behavior, Hunter lied. It looks like they're trying to find something in the ice, or maybe just provoke a war.
That's what worries me. What could be buried in the ice that they would want?
Either something important, or like I said, they just want a war.
They have to know that they'd lose a war with the Federation, don't they?
One would think, Hunter replied. The bioengineered panther was working his way stealthily toward the fence-line two kilometers to the east of Tebrey's position.
The Wolf Empire controlled a paltry two dozen star systems just outside the rimward edge of Federation space. The combined population of all of their worlds was smaller than that of any one of the core Federation planets. Their technology was at least a hundred years behind the Federation, as well. There was no possibility that they could hope to win a direct conflict.
Nevertheless, they were here now. The Empire encampment was only a few kilometers from the entrance to the cavern network that held Newhavensport, one of the largest cities on Serendipity. The original settlers had built the cities underground to help protect themselves from the planet's brutal winters. On a world where the temperature never rose above seven degrees Celsius even at the equator, the populace had to take extreme measures to stay alive. The sequestered nature of the cities meant that each city had rapidly diverged culturally after colonization. The city-states had spent hundreds of years at war with each other; only their membership in the Federation maintained the fragile accord between them.
Normally, when faced with such an enemy base, Tebrey would call in an orbital kinetic strike and move on. A kinetic strike here, unfortunately, would not only kill the captives but produce hundreds of thousands of civilian casualties in the nearby city. The ground shock wave from a multi-kiloton blast would collapse most the caverns in the area. So that really wasn't an option, no matter how much he wished for it. The other alternative would be to call in the marines, but the Warbird was no longer answering his calls. Without any contact from the ship, Tebrey and his companion were on their own.
That was something else for him to worry about.
Tebrey hit the ground running, a thousand meters down the cliff. He'd picked his landing location skillfully; although ice and fractured rock blasted away from where he hit, his footing was sure. The force of his impact jarred him to his teeth, but the gravitic engine made the kilometer-long plunge not much worse than a three-meter drop. His audio sensors picked up shouts and then an alarm klaxon as the enemy noticed him. Even with adaptive camouflage on his armor, the enemy sensors couldn't have failed to notice eight hundred kilograms of armored marine hurtling down the cliff. He tucked his head down and ran, relying on surprise and his beryllium-steel armor to protect him.
You worry too much, Hunter thought. It's probably just a communications error. It happens.
Yeah, remember the last time there was a communica
tion error? I almost died when a fanatic decided to blast the shuttle I was in. Besides, somebody has to worry. You never worry about anything, even when you should. Stop there, Tebrey added. You're not going to get any closer without them seeing you. What are the defenses like?
You can see them as well as I can. Six turreted towers guard the approaches. There appear to be about three hundred personnel in the base. Maybe a third of those are currently armed. I don't see any heavy armor. They seem to be moving some of the prisoners away from the others. I've got a bad feeling about this.
Does it look like they're preparing to kill the prisoners?
Maybe. Maybe not. It doesn’t matter though; you're going to storm it, aren't you? Hunter asked incredulously.
I don't like to think of what they're doing to the civilians in that camp, and I cannot, will not, sit here and watch as they slaughter innocents. They won't be able to use their large-caliber weapons once we're in the base for fear of hitting their own people. I can't raise the Warbird, and I don't know why. Do you have a better idea? Tebrey waited for the reply that didn't come. I didn't think so, he thought. Just be ready to follow me in.
You know I will be. Moreover, you only hope they won't use the big guns. Who says they give a shit about killing their own people?
Shut up, you're not helping. Tebrey steadied his nerves and tried unsuccessfully not to think about the young wife he might never see again. He missed Ana. He was confident in his and Hunter's abilities, but he knew that no plan was foolproof, and this plan didn't have a lot going for it.
Plasma pulses stitched a line of actinic fury as bright as suns along his path. Tebrey raced through the billowing clouds of steam and vaporized rock without pausing to return fire. He had to get inside the range of the heavy guns. A direct hit from one of those cannon would overload the superconductor on his suit and boil him alive.
At least your plan has the virtue of being so insane that they would never plan against it, Hunter thought sarcastically.
I'm in powered armor, Tebrey thought back. It's going to take a lot of firepower to stop me.
Looks to me as if they have a lot to try with, Hunter grumbled. I really think we should’ve waited for assistance.
From where? Tebrey asked. Anyway, I'm tired of waiting on others.
The steep, rocky slope allowed him to build up his speed, and he was running at close to thirty-five kilometers an hour when he reached the fence around the base and leapt over it, sailing through the air to smash through the wall of the closest guard tower that had been raining plasma blasts down upon him. Tebrey heard shouts from above as the soldiers there realized what had happened. He drew his pistols and raced for the stairs; their heavy weapons wouldn't be able to target him inside the building. They would soon learn why it was a mistake to invade an Earth Federation world.
In addition, if there was a darker purpose to what they were doing, Tebrey would take care of that as well. There was a feral smile upon his lips. Just then, had he known it, he looked very much like his long-lost father.
Chapter Two
Lieutenant Michael Parkinson had been raised Catholic, but it hadn't taken.
That was one of the reasons Parkinson had joined the Federation Fleet. Mary's Haven, with its Catholic-dominated government, was no place for someone who didn't believe fervently in the 'Almighty'. His parents had been scandalized when he had turned away from the faith, but mortal sin or not, he couldn't bring himself to worship something that didn't make any sense to him. Where was Heaven supposed to be, anyway?
If his parents could have seen him at that moment, they might have feared less for their son's soul, for he was praying as devoutly as they could have ever hoped.
Parkinson knew that his parents would have been wrong to stop fearing for him just then, however. Demons took the souls of those they killed to Hell for all eternity. At least that was what he had been taught in school. He had no other explanation than the demonic for the terror that had descended upon the ship. The cloven-hoofed horror he glimpsed during the firefight outside the bridge had shown him that something beyond even his worst nightmares had come true.
When the Warbird had arrived at the planet, the two Wolf Empire destroyers had fled rather than fight. That had been fine with him. The Warbird could have given them a good fight, but it would have been a close thing. The Empire ships were technologically inferior to the Federation cruiser, but there would have been many casualties.
Serendipity had seemed serene and peaceful despite the planetary distress signal that had brought the Warbird there. The crew had been anxious to know what was going on down below. Parkinson had been with the security detail that dropped the Special Operations team onto the planet near one of the cities. The Warbird had continued to watch for the return of the enemy ships. Whatever the Wolf Empire wanted from the planet, it was unlikely that they would have dared to attack a Federation world if they didn’t want it very badly, and if they didn’t have it, they’d be back for it.
Parkinson didn’t know what the Special Operations guy was looking for, or what kind of orders could put an entire warship at his disposal, but it must have been important, or the Admiralty wouldn’t have done it. At least he’d kept telling himself that. They had investigated two other systems nearby before receiving the distress signal, either nothing had been there, or the captain hadn’t seen fit to tell them what had been found.
Parkinson clutched his rifle to his chest and tried to calm his breathing. He didn’t want the thing to find him. He focused on the past to try to distract himself from the horror around him.
Sometime around the midnight watch of the first night in orbit, everything had gone wrong. Intruder alerts sounded throughout the ship. Parkinson responded with everyone else, but the officer of the watch reported that there must be a malfunction with the computer system. No other ships were in the system, and nothing could have gotten close enough to the Warbird to board her. Marines led the sweeps through the ship, but the alarms were all over the place. They couldn’t find anything.
It wasn’t until morning that the screams started.
Engineering had been attacked by something. Half the marine complement of the ship responded, but it was like feeding them into a grinder. No one who went in came back out. The intercom system had broadcast the deaths of the engineering crew and the marines throughout the ship, despite all efforts to cut it off. Parkinson knew that the marines had tried to fight, they really had, but how do you fight a demon? Nothing they did made any difference. Parkinson had seen what the demon did to those it touched. It literally tore them limb from limb.
When Commander Gerald had ordered Parkinson and his crew to guard the bridge, Michael thought the man insane. The marines on board were unable to stop the intruder. What hope did navy crewmembers have?
They had fought, much good it had done them. God help them, they had fought. It was only after the demon grabbed the commander and Gerald committed suicide with a plasma grenade that Michael ran, only after all the others were dead. He wasn't a coward. He'd been in combat before. He'd survived battles against the goddamned Nurgg, for God's sake! This was just something he couldn't face. Something his mind couldn’t handle.
Parkinson sobbed as worked his way aft, trying not to see what it was that squelched and shifted under his feet on the decking. The fluctuating power made that both easier and harder. Easier, because the flickering lighting made it difficult to see the carnage. Harder, because the artificial gravity kept shifting, and he kept slipping in the blood.
He was determined to reach Engineering. He still had orders to carry out. Gerald had seen to that before he vaporized himself. The commander had ordered Parkinson to engineering if the plasma grenade didn’t stop the creature. It hadn’t.
Just then, Michael hated the dead man with all his heart. Gerald had opted for a clean death, but Michael didn't have that option. Suicide was just as much a mortal sin as being killed by a demon. He prayed that God would understand that what h
e was about to do wasn't about himself.
He wasn't going to destroy the ship to make his own death easier.
He was doing it because following orders was all he had left to keep himself sane.
"Captain, I'm receiving a distress signal," said Lieutenant Mitchell. The young officer was nervous; it was his first tour of duty aboard the FSS Centaur, and the captain was notorious for breaking officers. "The message is being relayed through Fleet Command via DEP, sir."
"Let's hear it," Captain Singh replied. The bridge quieted down at his words.
"This is the FSS Warbird, calling to any Fleet vessel! We are in desperate need of assistance! We are in orbit around Serendipity in the Pi Or –" a howl of static interrupted the transmission "–nknown alien life-form – many dead – controls not resp –" There was another burst of static, and then silence.
"Com! What happened?"
"I don't know, Captain. Fleet Command reports the transmission appears to have been jammed at the source before it was lost."
"How the hell do you jam a DEP transmission?" the captain asked rhetorically. Dynamically entangled pair communications were thought to be unblockable; nothing known could sever the quantum connection. "Transmit to Fleet Command to notify the Warbird that we are responding," he said.
"I'm sorry, sir. Fleet Command reports that the DEP now refuses to connect to the Warbird." Lieutenant Mitchell swallowed nervously. The only reason a DEP wouldn't connect was that the ship had been damaged so badly that the communications core in the center of the ship was lost. Damage like that rarely left survivors.
"Acknowledge the transmission and notify Fleet Command of our intent to investigate. Helm, drop us out of hyper and reorient for the Pi Orionis system. What is our estimated time of arrival?"
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