Shadows of the Gods: Crimson Worlds Refugees II (11 page)

Then he saw the other icon. Red.

Fuck
.
Enemy
.

The shuttle bucked hard as the engines engaged again. He could see the thrust vectors on the display. The pilot was trying to flee the enemy…and reach
Wolverine
before the First Imperium vessel opened fire. The shuttle was unarmed, and its lightly armored hull wouldn’t provide much protection against enemy lasers. Escape was their only chance.

Harmon stared at the red triangle, feeling a detached sort of fear. There was a knot in his stomach, a nausea building up inside him, not as much for the danger he faced as the implications for the rest of the fleet. For six Earth months they had eluded the vessels of the First Imperium. Harmon hadn’t joined some of the more optimistic officers in the fleet, those who had dared to hope they had shaken the enemy for good. And he knew Terrance Compton had remained downright certain they hadn’t seen the last of their deadly foe. But now that moment had arrived, and the implications were terrifying. It was just a Gremlin, the smallest of the enemy craft, but as he stared at the shimmering icon, he realized it might as well be Death himself, astride his pale horse, come to rip hope from the fleet.

He tried to follow the pilot’s escape attempt, wondered why there was only one ship. But all of that slipped aside, and in his mind there was just one thought. It floated in his consciousness, as frigid as space itself.

They found us
…

*    *    *

Fleet unit V11945 had moved swiftly into the system from the warp gate. It was running on partial power, minimizing its profile to any enemy scanning efforts. Its mission was simple…to scout planet two, to investigate the human landing force, and to determine the most effective way to take a prisoner. The Command Intelligence’s orders were clear. It wanted one of the humans. Alive.

V11945’s scanners swept space in front of the ship. There were no contacts. The human fleet had been here, but now it was gone. There were trace particles around planet two, the output of the enemy spaceship drives. The human ships had been here recently…and in force.

The planet was too distant for the unit to scan its surface yet, but the vessel’s intelligence suspected the enemy landing force was still there. V11945 was a light combat vessel. It carried a small ground force—four armored landers and eighty medium combat units. If the human expedition on the surface was large the unit would have to call for assistance. The enemy’s inexplicable prowess in combat could not be ignored…and the need to take a prisoner precluded any heavy orbital bombardment before landing.

Suddenly the alarm system activated. There was an enemy ship approaching. Scanner beams lanced out, gathering data, identifying the vessel. It was one of the humans’ small attack units…weakly armored, but fast and equipped with a powerful primary weapon. The intelligence directing V11945 knew immediately the enemy was a threat, its plasma torpedo short-ranged but very powerful. V11945 had longer-ranged weapons…and its tactical guidelines called for it to open fire, to disable or destroy the enemy vessel before it could bring its plasma weapon to bear. But the orders of the Command Intelligence were clear. Take a prisoner.

Its directives conflicted. If it opened fire at long range, its targeting would be less accurate. It might destroy the enemy ship or cause sufficient damage to kill all the biologics aboard. If it waited until close range, where superior targeting would allow it to disable the ship prior to boarding, the humans would fire their plasma weapon…and a well-placed hit might damage V11945, even destroy it.

The vessel’s intelligence analyzed its options, considering every detail, inserting every conceivable variable into the equation. It was an exhaustive review, yet it was done in a millisecond. It would be preferable to retrieve a prisoner from the vessel on its scanners, to avoid the vagaries of dealing with the yet unknown strength of the enemy ground force. But not sufficiently so to risk the destruction of V11945…and the danger the human ship presented was too great. It had to be neutralized. If there were survivors then a prisoner could be taken from among them. If not, V11945 would have to land and deal with the forces on the ground.

Systems hummed as the intelligence directed more antimatter to the reaction chamber. Power fed to the engines, to the weapons…even as the targeting system locked on to the enemy vessel…

Chapter Seven

Command Unit Gamma 9736

I have received the initial reports from the scout vessel dispatched to system 17411. The main human fleet appears to have left the system, though there is some detectable activity remaining. This is contrary to the enemy’s recent pattern of moving quickly through each system, without pausing for exploration. In the two instances where they stopped to refuel, their entire fleet remained in the system. This is the first time they have divided their forces since the battles in X18.

The best available data suggests they have landed a force on the planet, though the probe was too far away to conduct detailed scans before sending the latest communique. I am left to develop a series of hypotheses to explain, though without more data, any scenarios are pure conjecture.

Indeed, the location itself presents an added challenge to my analysis…a lack of detailed information. System 17411 is redlined, under the Regent’s direct control…as it has been since the Troubles. I have only basic astrographic data available, as well as historical information preceding the demise of the Old Ones.

My forces have long been restricted from entering 17411, or any of the other redlined systems. Yet the Regent has also ordered close pursuit of the enemy. The enemy’s course has created a contradiction between these commands, allowing me to overrule the ancient ban and obey the more recent orders…and explore the system. I have ordered the scoutship to conduct an extensive planetary scan…and to land a combat force, if necessary, to secure a prisoner. The need to interrogate one of the enemy has become even more crucial.

I must understand. Why have they chosen a redlined system to land?

X48 System – Planet II

30 kilometers south of “Plymouth Rock”

The Fleet: 144 ships, 32,799 crew

Cutter sat on the top of the land rover, staring out as the vehicle zipped forward at 50kph. The treads absorbed some of the shock, but the ride was still rough. The flat plains around the encampment had given way to an area of low, rocky hills, and the rovers zipped up and down the hillsides. There were wide cuts slicing through the rises, visible for kilometers from the hilltops…the remnants of ancient roads or train lines, he guessed.

The city looming before them was enormous, vastly larger than the one his people had explored in system X18. But it was different in other ways too. Though time had done its share of damage, just as it had on X18, it was clear this metropolis had already been a ruin before the ravages of passing millennia took their toll. And the debris of war was everywhere, far thicker on the ground than it had been at the landing zone. Whatever battle was fought so long ago on this planet, it had clearly been fiercest in and around this city.

Cutter took a deep breath, feeling refreshed by the cool air. He’d been on a number of colony worlds, and all had possessed environments that supported human life. But few if any had been so…Earthlike. The mystery of the First Imperium had deepened for him, and he struggled to draw conclusions from what he knew.

He was wearing a set of fatigues, with a breastplate and thigh guards…bits of body armor Colonel Preston had insisted on before he’d approved the expedition to the city. Cutter had put up a fight—briefly—but arguing with Marines wasn’t in his DNA. Besides, he knew Preston was right. He had no idea what to expect in those ruins. They’d been attacked in X18 by still-active defense bots, and it was clear there had been a much stronger military presence here. Caution was warranted.

Cutter felt odd, different than he had. He was a creature of the laboratory, a bookish type more used to research than adventure. But he found himself taking to it more than he’d expected. The brisk breeze tempering the warmth of the morning sun, the cocktail of fear and excitement in his gut…he found himself drawing energy from it all. And he had to admit, the pistol strapped to his leg was giving him a bit of a rush. He wasn’t a warrior, not by any means…yet he knew they all had to be soldiers to an extent if they were to survive.

He knew the city held danger, and he was afraid. But he felt drawn to it, pulled on by the promise of answers to his questions. His research into the First Imperium had produced some useful information, but for every hint of a fact gleaned from his work, a dozen new questions arose. It was time to understand this civilization, to truly comprehend the mysterious history of mankind’s greatest enemy. That was why he was here, why all his people were. And he was determined to find the answers, however deeply they had to dig. Whatever dangers that had to endure.

“Another ten klicks, Ronnie. And then we’ll see what this city has to tell us.” Ana Zhukov was sitting next to him, her fingers gripping one of the handholds as she stared out toward the looming metropolis. She was also wearing fatigues and armor, similar to his, and she had a carbine strapped across her back. She wore a helmet, the smallest one they’d been able to find, but still a bit too large, and her hair was pulled back tightly in a ponytail. She looked born to adventure, to roving fearlessly through the ruins of ancient civilizations. Cutter knew it was a façade, at least a partial one. The two had talked late the previous night, after Colonel Preston had finally given them the okay to launch an exploration of the city. She’d admitted to him that she had never been so scared in her life…or so exhilarated. And to her surprise, he’d answered that he felt the same way.

“Klicks?” he replied, turning toward her and making a face. “So what…are you a Marine now?”

“We’re not locked away in a lab here, my erstwhile partner. So why not play the role?” She reached up and adjusted the loose helmet for about the tenth time.

Cutter turned away so she couldn’t see the smile that burst out onto his face. Her relationship with Connor Frasier was a very poorly-kept secret, one he’d known about almost from the start. And one he approved of, whole-heartedly. She was like a sister to him, and he was glad for any happiness she managed to find. Ana Zhukov was a very attractive woman, and she had no trouble getting attention from the opposite sex—or from her own if that was what she wanted. But he suspected her intelligence and dedication to her work had always been impediments to her social life. He’d been surprised at first to find her so taken with one of the Marines, but the more he thought about the relationship, the more it all made sense to him.

At least in a crazy, ‘we’re all on the run and might die any day’ sort of way.

“I want you to be careful when we get in there, Ana.” His voice had turned serious. “I know we’ve both spent most of our time recently arguing with the admiral against caution, fighting for the chance to explore. But that doesn’t mean we’re not heading into danger. The people of the First Imperium might all be gone, but we know too well that their machines are still a threat.”

“I know, Hieronymus. I’ll be careful. Will you?”

Her words scored a point, and he knew it. Of the two, he was by far the likelier to disregard caution in pursuit of knowledge. And he was the team’s leader, responsible for all of their safety. He didn’t know what orders Colonel Preston had given Connor Frasier, or what the Marine major might decide to do or not do on his own, but Cutter was the civilian commander of the expedition. It was a responsibility he didn’t want, but one he knew he was stuck with. And he would try to live up to it.

“Doctor Cutter…” It was one of the crew of the rover, looking up at him from one of the vehicle’s hatches, his helmet fully retracted. “Major Frasier told me to let you know we should reach the city in approximately fifteen minutes. He has ordered us to stop one klick out while he sends patrols ahead to secure the area.”

“Very well, Sergeant. Please tell Major Frasier that is fine.” He was anxious to get into the city, but he had to admit he’d feel better after a couple hundred Marines had a look first.

Cutter took a breath. It was almost time. He was here, staring at the ruins of the largest city he had ever seen, the ghostly remains of these godlike ancients. Would he find the clues he sought? The knowledge to decipher the awesome science of the First Imperium? The secrets of antimatter production, manipulation of dark matter and energy…all the great mysteries that had stymied scientific advancement for so many years.

Will I understand what we find…do I have the ability to comprehend the great genius of those who were here so long ago?

He took a deep breath, pushing back a shudder.
And what is in there, what long dormant defense systems…what nightmare waiting in the dark for an intrusion…

*    *    *

“More power to the engines! Bring us around, vector 101.346.212!” Commander Montcliff sat in the middle of
Wolverine’s
bridge, shouting out orders. His ship was in trouble.
Wolverine
had detected the enemy vessel…just before it opened up and raked the fast attack ship with long-range laser fire. Before he’d had a chance to react, the enemy barrage had torn great gashes in his hull…and knocked out
Wolverine’s
reactor. He and his people had come a hair’s breadth from being destroyed before they could even respond.

He’d held his breath when he ordered the emergency restart. There hadn’t been a choice…without power
Wolverine
was as good as dead. But he knew the odds well enough. His people had three chances in four of getting the reactor back online. The other one time in four? Well, that would be a catastrophic failure, one that would vaporize
Wolverine
in a nanosecond. His crew had won that particular game of Russian roulette, successfully getting the reactor back up without incident, but
Wolverine
was still in deep trouble.