Mako (The Mako Saga: Book 1) (10 page)

“Survivors?” Williamson choked, his youthful face contorted by intense worry and severe sleep deprivation—understandably so given that his 19-year-old sister had been a member of the Sygarious science team.

“None that we’ve found yet, son,” Katahl said soulfully. “It’s important to note, however, that we haven’t found any bodies either. So for the moment, the Sygarious colonists are presumed missing, nothing more.”

The young pilot nodded and Lee returned his eyes to the front of the room. He hadn’t known Williamson long—only a few weeks now since his reassignment to the Praetorian. But in that time, he’d come to like the kid. He was hard-working, dedicated, even-keeled in the air, and all and all a pretty solid pilot. But more than that, he was a proud brother and that was something that Lee wholeheartedly understood.

What he didn’t get, however, was why the Sygarious 3 settlement? It was just a simple farming colony, in a remote portion of Auran space with no real military value to speak of. It barely warranted a long-range scan, much less an all-out offensive. So why attack it, other than out of pure spite? It just didn’t make sense.

Then again, Lee thought, not much about this war did; particularly in recent years after the naming of the Alystierians’ newest commandant, Alec Masterson—a decorated enemy war hero and a brilliant tactician, but whose brutal style and volatile nature made him wildly unpredictable. This maneuver on Sygarious was proof of that, and Lee thought how, if there was a Boogeyman to be feared in
Mako Assault
, Masterson was most definitely it.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the admiral continued, turning the group’s attention to the star chart on the viewscreen behind his podium. “I don’t believe it’s possible to understate the vitality of this mission’s success. As is clearly evident, the Alystierians are making their way deeper into our territory by the day, and if this refueling depot is allowed to be finished, their reach will be infinitely wider than it is now. For that reason, and because of their skill and valor in the field, the Renegades have been selected to spearhead this operation. Rest assured, people… they will be in harm’s way. Therefore,” he added, his voice growing firmer now, “when the time comes, it is our solemn duty as their brothers and sisters in arms to make sure that they get all the support they require to ensure their coming home alive. As noted in your briefing files, the Praetorian, the Carmichael, and the Lancer will be on standby in the Tarkington system. In the event that it comes to that, all ships and fighters are to converge on their Identification Beacon and lay down as much cover fire as possible until Daredevil and his team are safely back aboard the Praetorian’s flight deck. Ruah?” he barked in the classic ASC military slang for “Is that understood?”

“
RUAH!!!
” the booming chorus affirmed.

“Thank you, sir,” Lee spoke into his microphone, cuing the program to continue. “We won’t let you down.”

With that, Admiral Katahl stepped from behind the podium and snapped to a tension, the perfectly formed blade of his right hand halting mere millimeters from his forehead in a picturesque display of military excellence to which the other pilots in the room then responded in kind.

“
Renegades
!” Katahl shouted. “You are dismissed. Good luck and happy hunting.”

As the briefing room began to empty, Lee thought to himself what a magnificent job the Phoenix programming staff had done with not only authoring some wonderfully written storylines for the game, but also in creating very real, believable characters to carry it out, not the least of whom was Katahl. Dating back to his days as a colonel, they’d run a lot of missions under him, even a few that he himself had suited up to take point on. As such, he’d long since evolved from being the usual, run-of-the-mill CO who gave the orders to a real friend and ally with the brass. Then again, he was that way with everyone under his command. That’s what happens when a military lifer and former grunt rises through the ranks to become the leader and commander of the Auran Star Corps. Still, no matter the success he achieved or the heights he rose to throughout his career, Markus Katahl never wavered on his devout belief that “the men always come first.” So if he said the Praetorian would be there for support, Lee knew he meant it. Besides, he needed look no further than his recom specialist for proof of the admiral’s loyalty. After all, were it not for Katahl’s testimony at Link’s tribunal, he’d be down a man right now.

Lee smiled to himself as he reflected for a moment on just how far they’d all come. Then, shoving the sidearm controller onto the holster on his right hip, he slid his gaming rifle’s strap over his shoulder, yanked back on its plastic slide and peered into his goggles.

“Alright kids… let’s finish this.”

Chapter 6: Infiltration

Following what seemed like an eternity, the progress bar in Lee’s goggles reached its peak, and with a brief fade to black, the theatrical intro which preceded each level of the game launched into motion. Strikingly similar in quality to the opening sequence of a feature film, Lee shook off the last of his jitters as the vast starry backdrop of open space swept across his view. Staring out into the rich black tapestry before him, with its endless glowing spatter of radioactive reds, yellows, and blues, he wondered if space itself could actually be this breathtaking.

His tranquility was shortlived, however, when a thin, vibrant sliver of crackling blue light appeared on the horizon. Surging steadily, Lee watched as the small electric line erupted in a single, shimmering flash to produce a massive, cloud-like bubble—pulsing and popping through the void, as if fighting to hold something inside its oblong border. A moment later, a small metallic object emerged from its epicenter, sending a static-charged ripple through the expanse that coughed once more before imploding back into itself with the same luminous spectacle as its appearance.

Boasting a stout, rectangular shape, short triangular wings, and a boxy, armor-plated nose, the small Alystierian supply shuttle exited the hyperspace window and veered to starboard—the white hot inferno of its thrusters now cooling to a muted blue without the engine-taxing rigors of faster-than-light travel. Upon reaching a steady sublight cruising speed, the shuttle turned to begin its inconspicuous jaunt toward the massive, earthy brown sphere ahead.

“Alright, kids and kidlets, we’re looking at surface touchdown on Morrius in T-minus five minutes and counting,” Link’s tinny voice announced through the shuttle’s monotone intercom. “Atmo breach in thirty seconds, and judging from the handy dandy weather scans in front of me, atmospheric conditions are gonna make for a bit of turbulence this fine morning. So, please make sure all seatbacks and tables are in their upright positions, and I hope everyone had a solid BM this morning. Bridge out.”

Glancing around him, Lee observed that the third-person perspective of the intro had dissolved into the first-person perspective of the shuttle’s interior. Cramped and small, with its dull, steel deck plates, grated overhead ceilings, and cold metallic walls, the main passenger cabin offered very little in the way of color with the lone exception of four porthole windows on the wall to his left. Seated calmly in chairs across from him—their faces bathed in the red glow of the cabin’s emergency lighting—were two additional characters; a stockily built man with chiseled features and a blonde crewcut, plus an athletically built woman with a flowing brown ponytail. Inspecting the arms and legs of his own avatar, which sported charcoal gray fatigues and black military work boots, Lee saw that all three of them were identically dressed in standard issue Alystierian service uniforms.

“So what’s the plan, bro?” the crewcut asked in Danny’s voice.

“For starters, everybody make sure your ID badges are out and visible once we touch down,” he began, gesturing his virtual hand to the lanyard around his character’s neck. Meanwhile the gun controller in his actual hands vibrated with the ship’s gradual descent to the desolate surface below. “Mind you, they’re fakes, so don’t go waving ‘em around to anybody, but they oughta be good enough to get us through security and on post without much of an issue. From there, we’ll have to trail someone into the barracks, and then it’s just a matter of locatin’ a room with as close to five unlucky souls as we can to take their spots on the next outbound transport. Standard occupancy for the average room on a temp base like this is up to 10 bunks, so everybody make sure to look for one that’s as minimally occupied as possible. We don’t want any more resistance than we’ll already have. Ruah?”

“Ruah,” the duo replied.

“Then what?” Danny continued.

“Once we’ve neutralized our five volunteers, we turn the spotlight over to Mac,” he said, turning to the female character, who was already brimming with excitement.

“I’ve been itching for a chance to test out a new toy of mine,” Mac beamed. “Everybody know what a skimmer is?”

“Sure,” Danny answered. “It’s one of those handy little devices that people use to swipe your credit card on the fly and steal all of your financial information. They’re all over the service industry these days.”

“Exactly,” said Mac. “Well, this little gizmo works a lot like that. Once we’re in, I’ll use it to swipe the IDs of the guys we’re gonna impersonate, then swipe our phonies and it should recode the two sets to match our faces with their identities. I will, however, need a few minutes at the computer terminal to hack the base’s security network and update the information in the system. Otherwise, chances are good that when we hit the checkpoint for boarding, Link’s face might pop up next to a picture of Billy D. Williams, and that’d just be awkward.”

“Aye, but what about this ship?” Hamish asked through the intercom from his navigator’s post on the bridge.

“What about it, Hamish?” Lee answered, not following.

“Well, if we’re coming in as a supply ship, aren’t they gonna be looking for… I dunno, supplies? Ergo, what’s to stop them from sounding the alarm once they go to unload the ship and realize there’s nothing on board?”

“Our buddy Wilson up in the armory took care of that for us,” said Lee. “The Aurans have managed to salvage a pretty good collection of Alystierian weapons and tech over the last several engagements. So, for the sake of authenticity, the Sarge was good enough to pull a bunch of it out, polish it up, and stack and pack it in our cargo hold.”

“Excellent,” said the Scot.

“Alright folks, it’s go time!” Link interrupted as a new voice buzzed through the static in Lee’s earpiece.

“Unidentified shuttle, this is Morrius 1 tower. Please identify yourself and prepare for authorization code submission, over?”

“Copy that Morrius 1,” Link replied to the base below with Lee’s script in the briefing packet. “This is the supply ship… Devrah, authorization code Echo-5-6-2-Alpha-Gulf-Niner, requesting permission to land, over?”

A noticeable pause ensued and Lee pursed his lips as the mysteries surrounding the fate of the other team returned to the forefront of his mind.

“Authorization confirmed,” the voice soon responded. “What is your cargo?”

Lee’s jaw tightened as the sound of fanning pages filled his ears.

“Um, right. Ah, yes sir, it’s…” Link fumbled, searching frantically through the packet for the ship’s inventory manifest. “It’s ahhh…”

“It’s on page 21, Link,” Lee grumbled. “Get with the program already.”

“Ah, Roger that Morrius… We’ve got… ummmmm, 13 crates of LX-15 assault rifles, a dozen crates of sidearms, and 32 cases of ammo for each, confirmed?”

The comm fell silent again.

“Copy that, Devrah. You are cleared for landing in docking bay 17. Proceed on your current heading.”

“Thanks Morrius, you’ve been a great host. You boys take care and have a wonderful day now, ya hear?”

“Don’t push it, you idiot!” Mac’s avatar scowled over her shoulder.

“Relax, Peaches,” cracked a pale, helmeted face from the cockpit ahead. “The mic wasn’t hot, so unbunch your panties, sit back in your chair, and let Daddy work. Um kay?”

“She’s right, Lincoln,” Hamish said from the navigator’s station beside Link. “I’m all for our trademark flair for originality, but we’re too close to the end to blow this on radio chatter comedy, agreed?”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Link grunted. “Course laid in for Bay 17.”

Glancing to the virtual Heads Up Display in his goggle view, Lee spied a total of three separate columns, all of which currently registered as “full” in bright green. The far left indicated his vitals while the center column accessed his weapons inventory which, for the moment, consisted only of a sidearm. Finally, the far right column monitored his ammunition status.

Shouldering the rifle strap and removing the plastic, Beretta-style handgun from the thigh rig on his right hip, Lee selected the weapon from the HUD’s inventory and highlighted the suppressor option in the accessory submenu.

“Everybody ready?” he asked, taking a deep, steadying breath.

“Game on,” Mac replied, screwing a suppressor to her own weapon and cramming it back into her shirt as the landing struts extended outside.

Once the shuttle’s rear hatch finished its slow, motorized crawl to the dusty concrete below, the group strolled casually down the steel boarding ramp into the aging hangar outside. Passing through a pair of hissing oxygen columns from the ship’s decompression sequence, Lee surveyed the open confines of the scarred bay around him before eventually spotting the check-in station along the north wall where a silver haired Alystierian officer, dressed neatly in his charcoal gray uniform, sat slouched behind a desk, fighting to stay awake.

“Papers?” the old man yawned, the final hours of his shift no doubt taking their toll.

Sliding the ship’s cargo manifest across the desk, Lee noticed that the same could apparently be said for the armed guard beside him, whose heavy eyes and hunched shoulders suggested that he too was ready to call it a night.

“How long you planet-side?” the older man asked, giving a half-hearted inspection of both the documents and their phony IDs.