Chương 68: Nova Wars - Chapter 57

The Weeping of Podlings Sustains My Rage! - Warbound N44/Naxen Chief Warrant Officer-Two Reklak hustled onto the dropship. It was an older model, but aboard the Gray Lady, everything was obsolete or an older model. He had on his firm-plate armored flight suit, his helmet, and his pistol at his side. He moved up the ramp, glanced and frowned with confusion at the four closest to the ramp. On both sides, in the first two seats, were Terrans only wearing a basic uniform and a breathing mask.

He shook his head as he kept going, past the two columns of dismount troops, two squads of Telkan Marines and two squads of Terran Army, both species clad in heavy power armor. On either side of the dismount doors in the middle of the troop bay were more Terrans wearing only the standard adaptive camouflage and breathing masks. The ramp started moving up as he went through the crew space, where the communications/sensors, electronic warfare, damage control, and weapons crew were already strapped in.

His co-pilot, one First Lieutenant Samantha Samuel Tiklak<klik>Ik Raiderson was already strapped in. The large Terran was already going through the pre-flight checks. He got into his seat, strapped himself in, and started doing his section of the pre-flight checks. Weapons Control reported Green. ECM/ECCM reported green. Damage Control reported green. Communications reported green. External mass tanks green. It was startling to see he had six green mantid engineers on board.

Green mantids were somewhat rare in the service, unlike when the Gray Lady was commissioned. Only three of the dismount crew had them. There was 8814 and 2289, Telkan Marine Armor Engineers, the other was 774, a Terran Army Combat Engineer. That there was only three numbers for that green mantid was surprising. He continued with the checks. Once those were done, he checked the status of the dismount crew. Captain Nakwel, Telkan Marines, was reporting his team was green across the board.

First Lieutenant Jacobell was reporting the Terran Army troopers were ready. Then came the permission to take off. Easy peasy. Once they were away from the Gray Lady they took a looping course to nearly two light hours away from the Gray Lady. It was only a nine hour flight, even under power. Chief Reklak noted that the Telkan Marines were just as active as ever. Chatting across the linkages, getting up to stretch or otherwise work off nervous energy and get the kinks out of their muscles.

Napping then taking hits off of the nutripaste. The Terrans didn't move. Reklak had to admit it was almost creepy. The suits of heavy power armor, adorned with spikes and made of grey alloy, just sat motionless. Not even inter-suit communication. The only sign they gave of life was a verbal checkin by their CO. He listened in once.

"Corporal Narwhaler," the CO said.

"Online, sir," the Terran Army "heavy weapons specialist" stated.

"I have four apples. A Mar-gite has stolen one. What do I have?" the Lieutenant asked.

"Three apples and Mar-gite chunky salsa," the Corporal answered.

"Jacobell, out," was all the officer said. Reklak frowned. That didn't make sense. He checked the flight profile, doublechecking the autopilot was still keeping them 'in the pipe' as the ship moved through the rings the computer put on the semi-transparent HUD it projected on the inside of the dropship's forward smartglass. Finally, at hour seven, he looked over at his co-pilot.

"Done this before?" he asked. The Terran turned her head to face him. For a moment, the visor was completely opaque and Reklak felt a little intimidated. Then it went clear, to reveal a Terran female with short cut blonde hair, freckles on her cheeks, pearlescent blue cyber-eyes, and tan skin.

"A few," she said.

"You?"

"Move through space to board a disabled ship of an unknown species?" he asked. The Terran nodded slowly.

"No," he said. The Terran's faceshield went black again and they turned to stare out the forward windows. It was weird. He had read that Terrans were known to be chatty, passing back and forth memes, bragging, laughing, and other interactions. Instead, he'd met robots with more personality than the Terrans. He listened in on the Terran channel for a moment.

"Sergeant Tgonga, check," the 1LT again.

"Gary, sir," was the rumbling reply.

"Out," there was a click.

"Sergeant Natchez, check."

"Gary, sir."

"Out." Reklak sighed and switched channels. Four of the Telkan Marines were tossing memes back and forth at each other. He watched for a minute. They were mostly Kawral memes, which weren't his favorite. He went back to staring at the rings slowly moving by.

"Your metrics are up," his co-pilot suddenly said.

"Do your mantras, Chief." Reklak glanced at the sidebar on his visor's HUD. His heartbeat and blood pressure were slightly up. He sighed, closed his eyes, and recited his mantras. Time slowly went by. He tagged his overhead HUD tag with 'sleeping' and closed his eyes. He recited his mantra and was asleep halfway through the second recitation.

"Wake up, Chief," the Terran's voice was calm, undisturbed.

"We're in sensor range of the target." Reklak shook his head, tabbing up a piece of stimgum and chewing on it. Before being assigned to the Gray Lady he would have thought the derelict was large. Nearly three kilometers long, three hundred meters thick. It looked like a chunk of sedimentary rock that had broken along the bedding planes. It was multiple levels, the scanners counted twenty, of a silvery metal.

There were massive holes in the sides, part of the rear section was missing, and a chunk was missing from the top. Reklak moved the ship in a slow corkscrew that let the scanners play over the entire surface, looped around, and slowly caught back up to the drifting ship.

"Got an atmospheric reading," Staff Sergeant Pruwak said.

"Bottom of Crater Epsilon." Reklak shifted the dropship around the derelict, Crater Epsilon coming into view. The crater had a whitish-yellow mist at the bottom.

"Sensors say it's a nitrogren-ammonia-methane mix," SSG Pruwak said.

"Low oxygen content. Looks like some fire damage, probably from methane/oxygen interaction with flame exposure." Reklak triggered a scan with the landing sensors.

"Derelict has artificial gravity, that's why the atmosphere hasn't left the crater, unknown why it hasn't turned to frozen crystals," Pruwak added. There was easily enough room to land the dropship. He triggered the wings to fold in and the hull to reconfigure for landing. The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

His co-pilot kept her hands off the stick, kept them folded in her lap, looking for all the world like Reklak had tucked a mannequin into the co-pilot seat to skirt regs. The dropship bumped and settled. He activated the grav-system, keeping the grav-anchors at roughly a tenth of a meter long.

"Dismount crew, status?" Reklak asked.

"Team One, Ready," the Terran reported almost before he'd finished speaking.

"Team Two, Ready," the Telkan Captain said.

"Lowering rear ramp," Reklak said. He hit the stud and could feel the vibration of the ramp lowering. Then the slight shaking of the power armored troops leaving the dropship.

"Deployed," the Telkan Captain said. The Terran officer just flashed his icon twice.

"Keep commo open. We'll be ready for a hot dustoff," Reklak said.

"Roger," the Captain said. The Terran officer just flashed his icon twice. Reklak started to lean back when the Terran co-pilot spoke.

"Raise the ramp," she said.

"What if they need to come back in a hurry?" Reklak asked.

"SOP to keep the ramp lowered."

"Good way to get a Mar-gite or twenty in here with us before we know it," 1LT Raiderson said. She paused for a moment.

"Or worse." Reklak reached out and hit the switch to close the rear ramp. He pretended not to notice 1LT Raiderson reach down and hit the power-cell for her heavy magac pistol. Jaskel looked around. The shot that had created the crater had only penetrated roughly a hundred meters into the vessel's hull, leaving huge cliff walls around the two hundred meter hole. The whole thing was filled with thick yellowish-white fog.

"Check out the Terrans," Corporal Presjak, second squad, said over the channel.

"What about them?" Gunny Zolpad asked, turning to look. There were two Terrans visible, standing next to the side door, two at the back of the dropship where the ramp was raising. They were only wearing adaptive camouflage, boots, fingerless gloves, and breathing masks. Two of the big Terrans, easily eight feet tall and over a meter across the shoulders, moved up to Captain Nakwel. One saluted, fingertips touching just above his eyes. Jaskel noted that the breathing mask didn't cover the Terran's eyes.

He wondered how the Terran's eyes weren't frosted over.

"Sergeant First Class Elizabeth Louis O'Sharma," the Terran said.

"Terran Polyphasic Infantry. We're assigned to your men, one per squad."

"Uh, where are you weapons?" Captain Nakwel asked. The Terran male held up a big fist.

"Implanted, sir. You'll want to put us near the front of the squads to engage any Mar-gite or heavy enemy." Captain Nakwel nodded. His implant was only tossing back that the SFC had implanted weaponry, no other capabilities.

"All right. You go with Second Squad," Captain Nakwel said.

"McMartinez, that squad," the big Terran said. The Terran he was looking at nodded and moved over next to PFC Hetrik. The one that had been speaking moved over to Gunny Zolpad and Jaskel.

"Sergeant First Class McSharma, Terran Army," the Terran said. They reached up and pulled the breathing mask away, taking a slow deep breath.

"High nitrogen, high ammonia, high methane, presence of oxygen. Presence of hydrogen and water vapor."

"You can breathe that?" Private Xulrek asked.

"Then why are you wearing the breathing mask."

"So I don't use any of my mass in vacuum," the Terran said. They reached up and tapped their nose.

"Hydrogen and water vapor would be the byproducts of something that breathes the major components of this atmosphere," they looked back down at the power armor clad Telkan.

"We may encounter non-Mar-gite creatures that may put up an intelligence resistance." Jaskel blinked rapidly. --he isnt wrong-- 8814 said. --new round templates are loaded up weapons ready and loaded with new ammo---"I don't get it, it's lye," Jaskel said, moving to get behind the big Terran, who was larger than Jaskel even in his power armor. --NaOH eats silicon like podling eat cookie-- 8814 said.

"McSharma, take point. Jaskel, up next. Xulrek, five meter separation when able," Gunny Zolpad said.

"Waypoints incoming. Keep your mapping software updates at five second intervals," Captain Nakwel ordered. Jaskel saw a wireframe of the crater appear, with a dozen openings leading out at 'ground' level. He could tell by the orientation of the passages that the gravity would twist ninety degrees. The floor of the crater was basically the wall. The Terran moved smoothly, easily, and Jaskel noted that it was almost power-armor movement.

They moved up to the first opening, the Terran easily making the ninety-degree transition. He helped Jaskel, Jaskel helped Xulrek, Xulrek helped the next man in line. They moved deeper, the corridor full of mist. The Terran paused, leaning forward and pressing his tongue against the metal. The Terran stepped back and spit. Jaskel saw the data get passed back. No liquid or memetic polyalloy detected. No pico or nanoscale devices present.

Primary construction element is maraging steel: high vanadium and titanium content, high nickel content, high chromium external layer with rapid dropoff of chromium content further into metal structure. Percentages incoming appeared on his visor with "SFC MCSHARMA" at the end.

"You can tell all that just from tasting it?" Jaskel asked, keeping his voice low.

"Yes," the Terran said. The corridor ended in twisted wreckage. Jaskel's armor highlighted live power conduits, what looked like data conduits, and what looked like piping, all twisted together with the metal.

"Back or forward?" Jaskel asked. There was silence for a moment.

"NavInt wants it cleared if you can," Captain Nakwel said.

"Let the Terran do the work, Jaskel."

"Roger." The Terran moved forward, grabbing the struts and wreckage. Jaskel noted that his bare fingers impressed deeply into the material. The Terran began pulling it to the side. Four times the Terran stuck a finger into liquid and tasted. Three times it sniffed vapors leaking from pipes. Once it wrapped a hand around a glowing conduit and closed his eyes. Compressed datastreams went by on the channel.

"Oh, great," the Terran said. Jaskel moved up.

"What?"

"Got remains here," the Terran said. He kneeled down.

"I hate this."

"What?" Jaskel asked. The Terran looked over the crushed body. It was hard for Jaskel to even tell what it was. It looked like multiple tentacles with one side covered with suckers and bone hooks. There was a round section, crushed and mangled, shards of bone and cartilage poked out of the shredded flesh. He could see at least a half dozen eyes, most ruptured.

"Get imagery, Jaskel," the Terran rumbled. Jaskel carefully had his suit log the image.

"Done," Jaskel said.

"Ew, I hate this part. It's gross," the Terran complained. It dipped a finger in one of the pools of fluid, orangish-yellow, and then put its finger in its mouth. It repeated it with several different fluids, then picked up a scrap of flesh and put it in its mouth. After a few seconds it spit it out, pulled a canteen out, swished his mouth out, and spit on the floor.

"Gross. Silicate XNA creature, messy XNA structure," the Terran said, standing up.

"NavInt and genetic warfare are going to have a field day."

"Why?" Jaskel asked.

"I mean, I get the NavInt part, but why do you have to taste it?"

"Best chemical analyzer with the heaviest protection I can field," the Terran said, shrugging and sticking out his tongue.

"More receptors per micrometer than you could ask for."

"Ew," Jaskel said.

"Yeah, ew," the Terran said. Jaskel's ultrasonic mapping showed him that the corridor ended in a flat surface. As they got closer what was obviously an irised door appeared out of the fog. The Terran moved forward and touched it.

"Vibration. Has power," he said.

"How can I hear you?" Jaskel finally asked.

"Tracheal and mastoid implants," the Terran said. He put his hand on the door.

"Where are you, where are you," he said softly.

"I don't see any controls," Jaskel said. His hand went to his side.

"Fusion cutter?"

"No, these guys are one-trick pony, they'll have the same overly clever idea all of the others had and... found it," the Terran said. He had one hand on the wall and as Jaskel watched he spread his thumb out to a 90 degree angle from his fingers.

"You got a greenie, right?"

"Yeah," Jaskel said suspiciously.

"How's his telemechanics rating?" the Terran asked. --class IIB-- 8814 said.

"Class IIB," Jaskel said.

"Not strong enough. Damn," the Terran said. He moved his hand and used his thumbnail to scratch a square in the metal.

"Fusion torch at two millimeter extension, cut that out." Jaskel moved up, grabbing his fusion torch and adjusting it.

"What's going on, Gunny? You've stopped again," Captain Nakwel said.

"Have an intact door, Terran says atmosphere on the other side," Gunny Zolpad said.

"Keep me posted," the Captain said.

"Out." Jaskel cut it and as soon as the cut was finished he saw that amid the wiring and piping there was a simple press button.

"Psykers," the Terran snorted.

"Can't put the button where the normies can find it. Relay to your Gunny that the door can be opened."

"Now what?" Jaskel asked after letting Gunny Zolpad know. He could see on his HUD that the squad was moving to either side of the corridor.

"You open the door, I'll stand in front of it. Whoever is on the other side shoots at me, you back me up," the Terran said. He flashed a grin.

"Easy peasy matron squeezie."

"Are your sure? I'm in power armor, you're in... uh... duty uniform," Jaskel said.

"I'm sure," the Terran said. He knelt down on one knee, opposite fist against the deck, head raised, other hand in a fist and by his waist, other leg bent slightly and the toe of his boot pressed against the deck.

"Gunny?" Jaskel asked.

"Captain said go ahead, his funeral," Gunny answered. Jaskel pressed the button. The door irised open. The other side was revealed. Three creatures looking like they were made of black metal and random chunks of chrome, all writhing tentacles around a thick tubular body, glowing green eyes, and a huge cavernous mouth full of spiraling rows of sharp teeth.

Past that were two beings of crystalline beauty, sparkling and shining in the dim white light, organs suspended in the large central trunk, the brownish red blood visible as it pumped through veins. Behind that was another creature. It had a rounded head/body, with easily a dozen writhing mechanical tentacles. Eight larger red eyes, six smaller green ones, across the forward part of the head. From the body was ten thick appendages, with three thick blades at the end of each tentacle.

It was obviously armored, heavy plating, with multiple joints on the appendages, with green lights above and below the joint and on each side. The three of black metal lunged forward, giving a loud atonal shriek. The ones in the back, all crystal, gave a shriek that rippled the air and made Jaskel's phasic shielding jump to 65% instantly. The one all the way in the back whipped its tentacles furiously in the air. Jaskel was looking right at the Terran when it happened.

The Terran was already coming up to his feet with a roar of aggression that made the floor shiver. It suddenly got larger somehow, the uniform vanishing as the Terran roared into the face of the creatures it was lunging toward. Molten warsteel poured from the Terran's mouth. It's eyes burned red. It slammed into the creatures on the other side of the door even as Jaskel yelled "CONTACT!" over the comlink.

It was shredding tentacles, grabbing a handful of them and twisting, ripping them apart, the fingerless gloves giving the Terran excellent purchase for its grip. It roared as energy bolts impacted the skin, doing nothing more than creating pretty showers of sparks. All Jaskel could do was just stare at the Terran, now easily four meters tall, all muscle, the uniform shirt gone, leaving behind only the equipment belt, trousers, and boots.

Spikes erupted from the Terran's skin, heavy bone-spurs, curved and wickedly sharp looking. Its skin was dark gray, almost dusty looking. --eeeeeeeeeeeeeee--"HOLY SHIT!" someone yelled over the comlink. One. Each.