A Faded Star (7 page)

 The Marines were crowded around the port airlock. Aves
looked over at Kri and Simmons. “Ready to go!” The marines shouted an
affirmative in response. “By twos. Lock open in three... two... one!” The inner
door slid open in a hiss of equalizing air. The first two Marines pressed
forward eagerly, searching for a handle, button or knob to open the hull door
on the crab ship. After a few seconds, they moved back, looking about
themselves sheepishly.

 One of the Marines looked back at Aves. “Sir, there
does not appear to be a way to operate the door from this side.” Kri shared a
wide grin with Simmons. They wisely kept silent, allowing the Marines to sort
themselves out.

 Aves moved forward and looked the door over.
“Corporal. Get me that pry bar.” The enlisted man handed the lieutenant a long
metal bar with a large hook at one end. After several minutes of grunting and
servo-whining effort. A crack appeared along the door. Three more marines
joined in and slowly wrestled the door open. “Uh, lieutenants... you may want
to look at this.”

 Kri and Simmons moved forward and gasped in shock.
Pointing out of the door, directly into the tiny, fragile hull of the pinnace
was what appeared to be a large energy weapon mounted on an articulated hard
point. “Think we should disable it?” Simmons asked. “Or should we look for an
actual air lock to go through?”

 Kri looked past the weapon into its storage bay. “You
wanted a door. This is a door.” Simmons gave him a look that said she was
fighting the urge to thump him on the head with something. He continued, “It
looks like there's a maintenance hatch at the bottom of the weapon bay. If we
can be sure it's disabled, this should make a reasonably good access point.”

 Two Marines carefully climbed down past the weapon
followed closely by Simmons and Kri. After a few minutes of looking the
connections over, Simmons pulled a plasma torch from her equipment kit and
began methodically slicing through what appeared to be control junctions. She
then went to work on the larger cables that were most likely power supplies for
the weapon. She gave a thumbs up to Kri and Aves. “This thing isn't going to
cause us any problems now. Let's see if we can get inside.”

 Aves crawled down and joined his two marines on the
tiny maintenance landing. The entire area was completely packed with power
armored humans, now. After a few seconds of fiddling with a bulkhead mounted
panel, Aves managed to get the maintenance hatch to open. “By twos, marines.
Go, go, go!”

 Kri and Simmons flattened themselves against the
housing of the now useless gun while armored Marines clambered by. After a few
tense seconds, Aves called up to them. “All clear, Lieutenants. Come down.”

 Kri and Simmons moved gingerly down along the side of
the disabled energy cannon. The soles of the powered armor boots made metallic
clunks against the deck as they reached the bottom of the weapon bay. Ducking
through the maintenance hatch, Kri and Simmons surveyed the passageway they
stood in. The lighting was harsh, yellow, and only directly illuminated about a
quarter of the area in alternating pools of light and darkness.

 Aves brought up his hand scanner before showing
Simmons the readout. “Looks like roughly equal energy readings in both
directions.”

 Kri stepped to the bulkhead. Affixed to it was what
could only be a sign of some sort. Metallic and with raised, regular
formations. “Perhaps we should proceed this way.”

 Simmons looked at the sign and said, “Why?”

 “I think this might be an arrow.” Kri indicated a
narrow, tapered shape.

 “Could be pointing the way to their brig just as easy
as to their bridge,” Aves said.

 “Well, we aren't going to find out standing here. Any
indications of life on your scanner?”

 “No, sir.”

 “Then let's get moving.”

 “Aye, sir.” Aves turned to his marine platoon.
“Advance by twos. Maintain cover at all times.”

 The progress down the passageway was slow. There was
no sign of life as they advanced. Without warning, gunfire erupted around them.
“Into that doorway!” Aves shouted over the din. The group clustered into the
small notch and began firing back for all they were worth. Aves rapped out
orders in short, clipped tones and kept his sidearm firing so fast the barrel
began to glow with heat. One of the marines shouted as he was knocked backward
by a hit in the head. Fortunately, the armor plate on his helmet saved his
life. The man scrambled back up after only a few seconds of disorientation and
began firing once more. The bulkheads around them pinged and snicked with
missed shots.

 “How many do you think there are?” Kri asked.

 “Looks to be a fair few, Lieutenant. We may need to
back out of this doorway. Sooner or later they are going to rush us, and we
won't be able to hold them off.”

 Simmons turned and examined the door panel for a
moment. Reaching up experimentally, she tapped at one of the controls. The door
slid open after a pause, revealing a pair of crabs at the back of a ten by ten
meter room, filled with inexplicable equipment. Simmons brought her laser up
and poured fire into the crabs. A split second later, Kri and two of the
marines joined her, downing the crabs. The group began withdrawing into the
room.

 Kri said, “No other doors. Let's not get trapped in
here.”

 “Good thinking,” Aves said. He turned and pulled the
pry bar, taken from the pinnace and jammed it into the doorway. “That should
keep it open.”

 One of the marines said, “Sir, they are advancing down
the passageway. Grenades?”

 “Frag grenades.”

 The Marines responded by hurling their grenades in a
staggered pattern in both directions down the hallway. Kri and Simmons watched
in amazement as the Marines worked, killing and destroying with astonishing
efficiency.

 “Sweep and clear, marines,” Aves said. The Marines
went back out of the room and began advancing towards the positions previously
held by the crabs.

 “Looks like they are all down, sir,” One of the
marines said.

 “Any casualties?” Aves said. A chorus of negatives
came back from the marines. “Wait. They may self-destruct.”

 After a tense few minutes waiting, Kri said, “If they
were going to blow up, they would have done so by now. I think that may have
been a special case for the ones that boarded the Rampart.

 “Never hurts to make sure,” Aves said.

 Kri nodded silently and watched as a pair of Marines
carefully picked over the bodies. Once they were satisfied, the group
continued. After an hour of searching, the platoon found a room with a large
number of displays and stations.

 “This could be the bridge or something else. Perhaps
damage control or engineering or even a medical bay,” Kri said.

 Simmons wandered between the consoles, all spaced and
built with the crab's three meter height in mind. Standing on her tip-toes, she
said, “I think this may be an engineering area. Look at this diagram. It looks
like the engine configuration before the ship was disabled.”

 Kri nodded agreement. “Probably. Too bad we have no
way to make sure. Do you see anything that may be a data storage module?”

 Simmons and Kri crawled around the room for another
thirty minutes before Aves, no longer able to contain himself, pointed at the
ceiling. “Is that what you're looking for?”

 Simmons and Kri looked up and then at the young Marine
lieutenant with matching expressions of consternation. Aves chuckled quietly to
himself and watched as the two naval officers climbed atop a pair of consoles
and attached various probes and scanning tools to the module.

 Kri began running through a generic sequence on his
data probe while Simmons worked to find out about the materials engineering.
Several minutes of intense concentration passed while they got their tools
calibrated and working. Simmons said, “Any luck?”

 “Some. This device uses some kind of electrical system
to operate. I'm still mapping out what's a data path and what's a power supply.
The system uses some kind of... ah. There we go. Look, it uses everything as a
data path including the power supply.”

 Simmons peered at the displayed data on the probe.
“Interesting. Probably makes the system more efficient, but how does a system
use the same potentials as both power and data. Fascinating innovation. Look,
there. That looks like an intact data signal.” The data probe showed a steady
baseline signal, captured and surrounded by various deflections that appeared
to be data transmissions along the conducting pathways.

 The pair worked for another hour, gathering as much
information as possible and devising a data translation matrix. The eerie
silence of the ship made it a tense time. Kri finally said, “I think we've
learned all we can until we have time to interpret what we have seen and devise
some specialized tools for this technology.”

 Aves said, “Back to the ship, then?”

 “Lead the way, Lieutenant,” Simmons said.

 The walk back to the pinnace was as silent and tense
as the time spent working on the alien console. There were no ambushes and no
signs of any life as they made the trip.

 Kri and Simmons got the pinnace underway in record
time. As the tiny ship moved away, Simmons let out a long breath. “I don't
think I knew how wound up I was until after we got out of there.”

 Kri, with an uncharacteristic lack of humor, just
said, “Yeah. Me too.”

 On approach to the Rampart, they could see the alien
scout ship had docked with Rampart, and the Bastion was in formation. Simmons
keyed the transmitter. “Rampart, this is Pinnace one. Mission successful. All
crew present and accounted for.”

 “Rampart copies. You are clear to enter via boat bay
one.”

 Kri, Simmons, and Aves strolled into the briefing room
half an hour later. The room was already occupied by Commodore Stokes,
Commander Hanlon and Lieutenant Commander Patho. The three junior officers
braced to attention.

 Stokes motioned to the unoccupied chairs. “Please be
seated.” The three officers sat down. “I know you'll all provide written
reports of the boarding and salvage operation; however, I would like you all to
provide a verbal account now.”

 The three officers spent the next half hour detailing
the operation. Once they'd completed their report, Hanlon said, “So let me get
this straight. You two are ostensibly the brightest minds the Navy has to
offer, and a marine lieutenant has to point out the data storage module for
you?”

 Kri sputtered, unable to respond. Simmons said, “Well,
ma'am. He is a marine. Situational awareness is his specialty.” She turned and
winked at Kri, who was still regaining his composure.

 Stokes watched the exchange with interest. His
officers were growing increasingly comfortable with each other. The increase in
unit cohesion and morale this implied gave him a sense of satisfaction. He
turned to the young Marine lieutenant. “Mister Aves, do you have any additional
observations?”

 Aves somehow managed to sit at attention. “Sir, the
crabs we encountered aboard the wreck were not as physically imposing. I would
estimate they were something just under three meters tall, not the nearly four
meters we observed in the boarders. They also did not explode upon being
defeated as we previously noted. Although there is insufficient information to
arrive at a solid conclusion, I would tend to suspect the crabs that boarded
the Rampart were either specially trained or bred for the task.”

 Stokes nodded. Aves' reasoning mirrored his own. “Very
good, Lieutenant.” Stokes turned to address his tactical officer. “Mister
Patho, do you have any input?”

 Patho weighed his words carefully. “Sir, if we don't
intend to mount a complete salvage operation of the wreck, I suggest we destroy
the remaining portion. Leaving so much intact invites a number of uncomfortable
possibilities in my mind.”

 ”Such as?” Stokes asked.

 “There may be surviving crew, hiding aboard, waiting
for us to depart or to lower our guard. We don't have a complete tactical
picture of what the ship's combat capabilities truly are.”

 Simmons said, “I doubt they held anything back, sir.
They were fighting for their lives just as hard as we were.”

 Patho nodded. “Possibly. They also may have been
unable to deploy a larger or more powerful weapon. They might have believed
they were able to defeat us. They know as little about us as we do them.
Without a more complete picture of the systems that ship has and considering
the level of violence the crabs have already shown they're willing to employ,
we just can't know if they were holding back or not. The boarding action was
carried out with a precision and lethality that makes me very concerned about
the combat capabilities of these crabs.”

 Stokes nodded. “You make a good point, Mister Patho,
but I believe the risk versus the possibility of increased intelligence on this
race is worth it. Detail a pair of drones to tow the wreck to Lashmere orbit.”

 “Aye, sir,” Patho said.

 “As to everyone else, lend a hand with damage repair,
and prepare to return to Lashmere space dock.”

 Hanlon said, “We have all of the control runs from the
primary ridge bypassed. The backup bridge is fully functional, now.”

 Stokes pondered for a moment and then said, “If there
is nothing else?” He waited for a silent moment. “Very well, then. Carry out
your orders.”

 The Rampart, accompanied by the Bastion and the alien
ship, flew back to space dock at sublight speeds. Communications between the
ships had gotten progressively better over the intervening four day sublight
trip back to Lashmere orbit. The pilot, a being named Thun, had reported he was
merely a scout and had run afoul of a pair of hostile destroyers on his way to
the Lashmere system. After confirming no further hostile intentions and, in
fact, no weapons of any kind aboard Thun's tiny scout ship, they escorted him
to Lashmere.