Assault on Ambrose Station: A Seth Donovan Novel (20 page)

BOOK: Assault on Ambrose Station: A Seth Donovan Novel
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31.

 

When the Dreaming finally met up with the Astral Spider, the two ships connected their airlocks using a removable docking assembly called a gangway tether. Essentially, it was just a flexible tube that stretched between the two ‘locks. Inside was devoid of gravity and passengers had to kick off their ship in order to drift.

I met Max and Artemis at the Astral Spider’s ‘lock, both expertly passing through the tether. I caught Max as she landed deftly on the lip of the Spider’s hatch and pulled her inside. Harris moved to catch Art but this only earned him a dropped shoulder to the chest as she flew through the airlock and landed on her feet.

“Show off.” I said, although I was grinning. Harris was rubbing his chest, although I could tell only his pride was hurt. “I warned you about Art, she’s a man eater.”

Art made a clawing motion at him and playfully growled.

I shut the outer airlock and led the pair down to the ship’s briefing compartment. The ship was nearly twice the size of the Dreaming and had three main decks, as well as a couple of sub-decks for maintenance that amounted to little more than crawl spaces. Most of the living quarters were on the lowest deck, Deck 3, along with the armoury, ready room and stores. Deck 2 held most of the ship critical compartments, such as engineering, weapons and sensor housings. It also held the Mess Deck and recreation compartments – they even had a fully equipped gym. The upper deck, Deck 1, was all reserved for operations – including the briefing room, our destination. The bridge, which had its own deck entirely, held the designation of 01 Deck or just the command deck. Situated near the aft of the ship, above and between the twin nacelles for propulsion, a blocky protrusion from an otherwise sleek design.

After my encounter on the bridge, Renthal had given me a quick tour. A ship of this size would normally require a crew of between eighty and a hundred, but slaved AI Cores managed many of the systems. Troop berths, to carry up to three squads of twelve, and the regular crew numbered forty-seven. Only Naga Team were berthed, however. Most of the troop quarters were empty. Renthal explained that the Spider was their operational ship - a stealth corvette that could evade detection by the Ghantri. There was a large compartment on Deck 1, which I could not enter, that Renthal explained housed the Stealth Module and AI Cores. These ran the holographic nanites that sheathed the hull.

“This ship must be power hungry.” I asked while we toured, “Holograms of this size are notoriously heavy on the juice requirements.”

“That’s where the Votus tech comes in, they’re not your standard holographics,” Renthal replied, “It’s actually hard-light. I know that’s even more a power drain, but it’s some trick the Votus use. Something to do with the nanites having their own power sources.”

“Carbon nanotubing?”

He gave me an appreciative look. “Very good. Hey, you’re not your standard ex-marine type, are you?”

“I get that occasionally.”

“You’ve done your homework on nano-tech, then?”

“You could say that.”

My own nanites used similar principles. A capacitive charge held by millions of carbon tubes powered each nanite. The initial charge, drawn from my own bio-electrics, ensured I needed to be careful I did not drain myself when I used my nano proliferation abilities. Educating myself on how they were designed and how they worked was part of getting the balance right.

I made a mental note to examine the hull with my Scan Paradigm at some point, I had a suspicion I would learn a thing or two about my own capabilities.

Before I had gotten to ask any more questions, the ship’s main broadcast system announced the arrival of the Dreaming, and Harris had come to collect me.

“Tac is on standby,” whispered Max as we neared the briefing room, “he confirms that he is within range of their local network and is ready to cause mayhem if we need it.”

“I’m pretty sure that won’t be necessary.” I told her.

“I don’t like this. You know me, I prefer to have contingencies.”

“That you do.”

We had reached our destination and I held the hatch open for Max. Art slipped in afterwards and I followed, leaving Harris to close up behind us. The briefing room was dimly lit, but not so much that we couldn’t see the way to our seats. Garner and Ormund rose as Max entered. Kekkin, Renthal, Dr Elias and Melafenaseance rounded out the table.

“Ma’am.” said Garner.

“Captain, Lieutenant.” returned Max, nodding.

Ormund indicated seats for us, which we took. The table was large, easily able to seat around twenty people and finished in glossy black, like glass.

“Okay,” started Max, eager to control the meeting from the beginning, “What’s this all about?”

“First off, I’d like to welcome you to the…” started Ormund.

“Can the platitudes.” she interrupted, “I’m not interested in making nice. I’m edgy, and in hostile waters. You want to tell me why we’re being followed?”

“Max, hear him out.” I said. I didn’t want Max losing her cool too soon.

“Okay, I’ll play along. But keep it on point or I’ll walk.”

“Very well, Captain. You know most of my people. Our Fleet Commander is Captain Garner, this is Dr Elias Montannis and Melafenaseance of the Votus II System.”

She seemed to notice the Votus for the first time, her eyes widened in surprise.

“Captain.” said the Votus in a deep, heavily accented voice.

“Don’t see too many of your kind outside of your habitats.” she said.

“Very little interests my people these days. I am somewhat of a…maverick. A hot head, among my race.”

This elicited a chuckle from Renthal. “A hot head? He’s calmer than an Orlii in meditation.”

“Be respectful, Corporal.” chided Kekkin. The Garz’a was clearly in awe of the alien. It was hard not to be. It was not every day you sat at the same table as one of the elder races. Even some of Max’s steam let out.

“Captain Cooper, I assume you’ve been informed as to Naga Team’s general function?” asked Ormund.

“Spec ops.”

“We’re a covert reconnaissance unit, tasked with tracking Ghantri high value targets and infrastructure.”

“Yeah, that’s what spec ops means. How come the good Captain Garner isn’t running this brief?”

“The Fleet’s stake in this mission is merely logistical,” said Garner, “Operational command on the ground falls to Ormund and his team here. My job is to get him there and make sure he can get back again.”

“So you’re the ferryman?”

“A crude analogy, but accurate.”

She looked Ormund over. “Aren’t you a little young to get the big hat in an operation this far into hostile territory?” she said.

“Hardly. I will admit, though, that I do lack experience. That is why we have invited you here, partly. We could use your help.”

She laughed at that. “Me? You’ve got a state of the art stealth warship, and you think I can help you? In case you haven’t heard, we’ve got our own problems.”

“I’m aware of your goals. Your objectives in this system.”

Max gave me a sidewise look. I shrugged.

“So?”

“How much do you know about the Ghantri? Specifically, their culture and religion?”

“Not a great deal. Donny is the expert here.”

“Were you aware,” said Melafenaseance, “that the Ghantri believe the Votus are demons?”

“No. I was not.”

“There were no Votus involved in the Push,” I said, “Protectorate brass made absolutely sure of that.”

“Corporal Donovan is correct, Captain.” continued Ormund, “The Ghantri hold a special place in their black hearts for Votus blood. They are considered anathema to them.”

“Why?”

“Part of the reason we are here. How’s your history?”

“Adequate. Which part?”

“The Destroyer War?”

“Only what they teach, what the movies tell you. You telling me they’re connected?”

“That’s part of our mission. To determine if this is the case.”

The Votus tapped a section on the table and it lit up. It showed an image of a partially destroyed bulkhead. Markings depicted what was clearly a divine being of some sort surrounded by prostrated Ghantri.

“This the Firebreaker Artefact. A recovered piece of debris, showing the glorification of one of their deities.”

“Yeah, Seth mentioned they were nut jobs.”

“You have no idea.” muttered Renthal.

The Votus continued, “The being you see here is reminiscent of a
Volgri ghru
caste
insect
.”

He pronounced ‘insect’ with what could only be described as disgust.

“What’s a
Volgri ghru
?” asked Max.

“He means a Destroyer general.” I answered.

“Mr. Donovan is correct,” said Garner, “It’s a crude representation, but the Votus encountered the Destroyers thousands of years ago, before the Protectorate made first contact. They were able to survive the Destroyers by sacrificing several of their worlds and retreating to the Votus II System.”

“So Votus II isn’t their original home?” asked Max.

“The number kind of gives it away.” said Art, earning a look of ire from Max.

“So you’re saying the Ghantri think the Destroyers are their gods?” she said.

“We think there’s definitely a connection.” said Ormund.

“Bullshit. We called them Destroyers for a reason.”


Kitrak
is right. Destroyers only destroy.” said Kekkin, speaking for the first time. The Garz’a racial memory is strong considering the Destroyers. They held legends and myths surrounding the enigmatic insect race that brought the galaxy to its knees hundreds of years ago. Their ancestors had been visited by the Destroyers once before, nearly wiping the Garz’a out. It was only due to the efforts of a handful of survivors that their homeworld was rebuilt. The Garz’a had prepared for the Destroyers eventual return, becoming intensely xenophobic. When humanity, allied with the Orlii, first encountered the Garz’a hostilities began almost immediately.

“Yet here we have questionable proof that the Ghantri have interacted with them in the past. In such a manner that tells us the Ghantri reaction, or the Destroyer reaction, was different than with other races.”

“So what’s that got to do with the Ghantri thinking the Votus are demons?”

“When we left our home worlds behind, we seeded them with bio-terminator cells.” explained Melafenaseance, “We thought the
ghru
would try to use our worlds, and the bio-terminator would kill them. We must have partially succeeded, and the Ghantri were told of our treachery.”

“Well this is all a very educational discussion, but isn’t it all just academic anyway? The Destroyers were wiped out by the Protectorate hundreds of years ago.” said Max.

“To believe the
ghru
no longer threaten this galaxy is to fall prey to their evil. Complacency is our worst enemy.” said the Votus, solemnly.

Ormund tapped a few commands into the table, and a timeline appeared.

“The Votus fought the
ghru
twenty-one hundred years ago. Prior to the Betrayal, anthropological studies mentioned a shift in Ghantri culture and theology around fourteen hundred years ago – the Ghantri calendar centres around this event. The Galactic Exploratory Alliance, the forerunners of the Protectorate, first encountered the Destroyers, the
ghru
, six hundred and ninety-two years ago.”

“Every seven hundred years…” Art mused.

Max appeared deep in thought. She looked at the timeline, looked at the Votus and Garner. She made eye contact with me.

“What has all this got to do with the Dreaming, and me?” she said at last, “Why do you need my help?”

Ormund brought up another image, this time of a section of the system.

“The Ghantri have been gathering up slaves from Ambrose Station and using them for mining. We’re not sure where exactly, but we think it’s something around this part of the system. Only thing is, long range scans are unable to detect enough minerals in this asteroid field to make a mining operation worthwhile.”

“Go on.”

“Max,” I said, “You know how we’ve talked about the placement of these asteroids? How they weren’t formed from left over planetary material like other star systems? We think they are the remains of Destroyer world ships. We think the Ghantri are using the slaves to dig out Destroyer artefacts from the remains.”

“We need to learn what the slaves have seen.” said Ormund, “We need to find someone on Ambrose Station who’s been to these mining operations and can shed some light on what they are looking for.”

“It is imperative, Captain,” intoned the Votus, “that we learn whether the Ghantri know the
ghru
are returning and from where.”

32.

 

The meeting continued for another hour, while we discussed plans for landing on the habitat. The presence of the Astral Spider and her cloaking ability changed everything. Initially, our plan was very…overt. I’d run with the idea that in the chaos of my planned missile attack I can get in and avoid a full blown chase. I’ll admit, after going over the details with Naga Team, who specialised in infiltrating enemy establishments, I felt rather foolish.

When I’d finished sharing my plan, the senior members merely rocked back in their chairs and glanced at each other for a few brief moments. Renthal cleared his throat, and at a nod from Kekkin spread his hands out on the table as he looked over at me.

“The key to controlling any covert interaction, rather than reacting to it, is to minimise your exposure to the enemy. The moment the enemy is aware of your presence, everything you do will be a reaction to how the enemy progresses from there.”

“Yeah, my options were kind of limited. We don’t have anything like stealth capabilities on the Dreaming and my M4 MAEL Suit was trashed. I only have Light Duties space suits to use.” I said in my defence.

“We can sort that out.”

“You can?”

“Sure, we have several operational M4 variants you can use. That’s not the problem, though. Even if you evade notice individually, your opening gambit will put the entire area of operation on high alert. That lowers your chance of survival significantly.”

“What would you do? Can the Astral Spider get us onto the habitat ring?”

Garner answered, “The stealth system is mostly optical, with standard electronic stealth capabilities. Getting close enough to land without being detected is out of the question.”

“We can get close enough for manual insertion, though.” said Ormund.

“What the LT said,” concurred Renthal, “We don’t need to land. We can just insert freely from high up.”

“I’m sorry,” said Max, “freely? Manual insertion?”

“He means we drift down in our suits. Drop out of the Spider from far out and angle our decent to the habitat.” I said.

“How far out are we talking? Isn’t there a limit on available life support for a space suit?”

“Not an M4, ma’am,” said Renthal, “they’re built to keep a soldier alive in space for weeks. A man will starve to death, before the power and oh-two expire in one of those.”

“So you just sprinkle yourselves out of the arse of this ghost ship?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I had to admit, his plan got me thinking. This was my old training kicking in, going over the tactics in my head. Star Marines often deployed this way during battle – the assault boat would get close enough to the target to draw fire and then the payload of marines would jump out. While the enemy fired at the assault boat, they weren’t firing on the marines. This time, however, there would be no firing at all. Marines adrift in space were hard to target, and harder to spot.

“Of course,” added Renthal, “we’ll be coming with you.”

Artemis spoke up for the first time during the meeting. I could tell she was liking the implications less and less.

“Now, just hold on a minute there, cowboys,” she started, “no one said anything about tag alongs.”

Maxine leaned back and observed where the conversation was going.

“Ms. Derris,” said Ormund, “I don’t think you have a choice.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. Tell him, Max.” She looked Max square in the eyes, an intense expression on her face.

Max returned the glare for a few moments before she leaned forward again.

“I’m afraid she’s right, gentlemen. We operate alone, no strings attached. Our contract was very specific.”

My eyes almost popped out of my head. Then I remembered our true situation. If Artemis said jump, we had to ask how high. She was using the threat of those bombs on the ship to get her way. The trouble was, I really could use Naga Team. Having them on our side would be a big advantage. I thought fast, before tempers started to flare.

“I’m sure these lads can hold their own, Art. They won’t slow us down at all. We may even learn a thing or two from them.” I gave her a challenging look.

She was deadpan, looking right into my face.

Wot the fuk r u playing @ luverboi?
I didn’t have to check the message ID to know who sent me that.

You need to work within the situation, Art. We can use these guys.

I don’t want NE moar complications. No distractions from our goal.

Think about it – an experienced spec ops team covering our backs. This is just what we need. We stay focused on your mission first, then after you’ve left I can help them out with theirs.

She sighed, leaned back in her chair and put her feet up on the polished black surface. I could see Ormund visibly grimace.

“Whatever.” she said.

There were a few quizzical looks passed between those present, but eventually they must have sensed that everything was right, once more.

“Captain,” asked Garner, “About you role in this crusade....”

“I’m all ears.”

“You have experienced belters on your crew, yes?”

“Some of the best.”

“Can the Dreaming navigate to these coordinates in the system? It’s the closest asteroid cluster that we’ve monitored some traffic on, and we’d like to investigate what they’ve found there.”

“I’m not leaving Donny on that station without us there to back him up.”

“The Astral Spider will provide support, we’re better equipped and we’re experienced in this sort of operation. We’re not miners, though. We don’t have the equipment nor the expertise to get into some of those rocks and look for intelligence. You do.”

She looked troubled, so I put my hand on her knee, much like she does for me when trying to comfort me.

“It’s okay, we’ve got this, Max. This is the kind of job the Dreaming was designed for.”

She looked up at me, her eyes searching my face.

“Are you going to be okay? I want to be there if things go south.”

“There wouldn’t be much you could do - you’d be too far away to help out. At least the Spider can get close and sit there.”

“I don’t like this.”

I chuckled. “Crege will. He’d send you all bat-shit if he had to park the Dreaming and just sit there.”

She smiled. “That he will.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll see this through, then we can go visit old man Hieron for a holiday.”

“Don’t tell me not to worry. I have that right.”

“Yes, you do.”

And just like that, I left the crew of the Dreaming of Atmosphere to once more join the military. Of course, when news got back to the rest of the crew, there were mixed emotions. Cuts, of course, was pissed at me. Maybe he’d finally worked out a way to put his first impressions of me aside and was starting to respect me. He probably saw me leaving for the rest of the job as reneging on our...partnership?

Hergo and Denno were supportive, as always. They were excited about the prospects of attempting to hollow out a potential elder race ruin. They’d already started going through the mining equipment and checking everything. They shook my hand, wished me luck, and started to argue about how they could start mining without the use of explosives.

Crege was happy, for a number of reasons. He had been dreading the idea of sitting in a dark ship for days, or possibly weeks, simply waiting. The chance at action had invigorated him. He also said that he was glad he wasn’t going to have to watch me screw up a perfectly good fighter due to my shitty piloting. I tried several times to pass him back his
lurzak
blade, but he would have none of it.


Kitrak
has earned it. Warrior must earn it again before taking it back. Most likely warrior makes a new one.”

Fel’negr was sad to see me go, anxious to see the plan change again, and excited that the long mission was finally nearing completion. I could see all these emotions flash in his eyes, as they shifted colour like a kaleidoscope.

Max was doing her best mother hen routine, making sure I had everything packed that I’d need. She made me take extra ammo batteries, not trusting these Protectorate types to keep their cells charged. She also insisted that Tac join us regardless of the change in plan. She said that if there was ever a need for his expertise, then it was safer to have him with me rather than wish we’d taken him. Her words were a little less tactful, however, referring to the ‘gun contingency’. It was safer to have one and not need it, than need it and not have one.

It was nearing the last hour before our two ships separated that I found that I had a major problem. I couldn’t find Zoe anywhere on the ship. I checked in the med lab, her cabin, my cabin, the mess deck, even engineering. I was getting anxious. I decided to call in with Max again and see if she had seen her.

“I have,” she said, arms crossed, “Although I’m surprised that you didn’t have a hand in it.”

“What do you mean? Where is she?”

“She went and resigned from our crew. Said she is joining the research team over on the Astral Spider. You sure you didn’t have a hand in this?”

“She what? No! This is the first time I’m hearing about it.”

“She came in here about half an hour ago, when you were loading up in the armoury. Gave me this spiel about putting her education back on track. Since technically she had already completed her internship here, as agreed upon by the Kanto Prime University and myself, she held the right to request transfer off the ship when she required, so long as it was within the interests of her academic career.”

“Whoa.”

“Yeah. So you’re telling me you didn’t put her up to this? Your solution to the question about your relationship?”

“Max, it’s me. You really think I’d be that cunning where women are concerned?”

“True. This does seem a little too smart for your style.”

“Thanks, Max.”

“I meant where women are concerned.”

“Right. Er…I gotta run. Before someone gets us all into serious trouble.”

“Chop, chop, my boy.”

I ran out of Maxine’s cabin and down to the airlock. I practically shot my way through the tether to the Astral Spider. As luck would have it, as I approached the outer ‘lock of the Protectorate warship, a hulking, stooped form swung around into view. I hastily spun my legs around and tried to kick off the side of the ‘lock to avoid the figure, but the thing with zero-gee is that there isn’t much you can do when sailing through nothing. At the last second, I activated my nanites and translated past the port, crashing into the far side of the airlock compartment.

“An accident due to one’s haste, no doubt,” sounded the dulcet, accented tones of the Votus as he helped me to my feet, “You younger races are always in such a hurry to get through your lives. I wonder that you even manage to perceive the galaxy at all, sometimes.”

“Sorry, sir.” I stammered as I collected myself, “I didn’t see you in the ‘lock.”

“Never apologise, Seth Donovan. Your enemies don’t care, your colleagues don’t need it and your allies would be offended. You gain nothing by offering your throat to another.”

“Uh…okay. Thanks.”

“That was a remarkable demonstration of nano-technology. It was unrefined, clumsy, yet achieved the desired result. You have much to learn, however, before its true potential is revealed to you.”

“Yeah. If you’ll excuse me, I have to…hey, where are you going?”

It was only then that I realised the alien was headed towards the Dreaming. Trailing behind him were three grav-assisted trolleys loaded with equipment.

“I will be required to assist Captain Cooper for her portion of the coming mission. I have unique insight into
ghru
artefacts and Ghantri technology.”

“You’re joining the Dreaming?”

“That is correct, Seth Donovan.”

“Oh…er…good to know.”

“I wish you luck, as you humans would say, in your coming ordeal.”

“Thanks.” I said to his back as he turned about and sailed effortlessly down the tether to the Dreaming, trollies in tail.

I watched him enter the Dreaming, lost in thought, before I remembered my urgency. Once I was inside the Astral Spider, my overlay connected to their local network and I sent Zoe a message.

Where are you?

Science lab, Deck 1. Don’t be mad.

What’s going? I’m coming to you.

Can you wait until I’m finished here? Give me thirty minutes to finish up.

Finish what?

My interview.

Are you going to tell me what this all about?

You’re distracting me, I’ll explain everything when I’m done.

I realised that I was standing in the middle of a passageway, hands on hips staring at a bulkhead. An enlisted crewman squeezed past me, nearly shouting at me – “Backs!”

I was trying to remember my way to the science lab, when the ship’s main broadcast system blared to life.

“Seth Donovan, 01 Deck.”

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