Assault on Ambrose Station: A Seth Donovan Novel (38 page)

Harris, can you plot the course you took to get where you are?

Sending path now.

Harris’ path appeared on my overlay, a ghostly trail wending its way through the artificial swamp. When I had shared it with everyone, we started off again.

The path took us on a circuitous route through the swamp, sticking for the most part to higher ground made from mounds of hardened sludge and ancillary equipment. Several times, we found the fully decomposed remains of humanoids, their skeletons encased in vegetation. Geko yelped in surprise when an insect crawled out of an eye socket of a skull he was prodding with his rifle.

“LT, you need to see this.” called Harris when we reached his location.

“What have you got?”

He was perched on an overhanging platform, the rusted grating of the deck threaded with vines and creeping plant-life. He was almost twenty metres off the ground, pointing upwards at a rising spire adjacent to the nearest funnel. I strained to make out what he was indicating.

“About a third from the top – that dull strobing light.”

“I see it. I can’t quite make out what it is.”

“I have magnification optics, wait one. I’ll send you some images.”

A data package appeared on my overlay. I opened it and scanned the images.

“That looks familiar.” I mused.

The image showed a large plate of rusted metal, welded to the side of the tower. A symbol formed from various pieces of debris was affixed to the plate. A pulsing, amber light shined upon the surface, casting an eerie glow on the whole ensemble.

“I saw something similar in one of the areas we fought Ghantri…”

“The transport hub. It was in the security office we assaulted.”

“I think it’s significant.”

“I do too. I’ll see what Ormund has to say about it.”

After I showed him the images, Ormund confirmed what I was thinking.

It’s religious, that’s for sure. That symbol shows up a few times on Ghantri artefacts that we’ve recovered. Including the Firebreaker Artefact.

What does it mean, though?

We don’t know. We have never even seen one of the religious caste Ghantri, let alone had a conversation with them.

What about before the Betrayal? After first contact?

Most of what we know about their culture we got from the Jaani. The Ghantri were silent guardians to the little devils. So much so, that we thought at first the Jaani were in charge.

Turns out, they were just trying to learn as much about our technology as they could.

No shit. Lesson learned, I guess. Keep an eye out for any Ghantri that don’t fit the norm, and document any more symbols that you find.

I told the rest of the squad to keep an eye out for more esoteric markings and we continued on our way. We moved through the facility at a cautious pace – the ground was treacherous, even more so as we began our steady climb upwards.

We moved along a crisscrossing platform of walkways and stairwells, several times having to cut our way through vegetation. After our run through the tunnels below, it was gruelling work. Even Artemis began slowing down after a few hours.

I was determined to reach the habitat, though, and I pushed the squad ever further upwards, entering the cloud layer eventually. Visibility dropped to only ten metres and we had to double back a few times when our way turned out to be a dead end. The vines that had crushed them over the years held the rusted and decayed platforms together, at times.

After six hours of climbing, I once again called a halt. With grateful sighs, the squad almost collapsed to the decking. I peered over a railing and was hit by a wave of vertigo. I could no longer see the ground below, even when the faint wind swirled the clouds enough to peer through the gap. Everything was slick and wet, moisture coated ever surface, and where moisture formed, so too did the ever present sludge of the algae.

“I take it back,” said Carro, “Not so much like home, anymore.”

61.

I dozed, and as my mind drifted I began to fall into my ever recurring dreams. The Eye of Ar’od Dar cast its baleful gaze upon me, as before. I struggled to escape its attention, but was frustrated by my every move. The once protective embrace of the nanite sea only served to hinder my escape, grasping at me like molasses.

I awoke with a start, my eyes wide and looking back and forth. In my delirium, I caught sight of something black and spindly slipping over the edge of the platform. I thought I had imaged it until I realised that Masters’ stretcher was empty – a bloody smear trailing over the edge.

I jumped to my feet, grabbing my rifle and letting out a cry of surprise. Everyone was instantly alert, rising to knees and feet. From the gloom, more of the black spindly limbs appeared. I called out to Gunther, closest to them, and he whirled about and fired off a burst from his rifle. The bullets struck the form with an audible
crack!
and the shape retreated.

“Form a circle!” I ordered.

The squad formed up, their backs to each other. I found myself rubbing shoulders with Kekkin.

“What are they?” he asked, eyes wide.

“I don’t know, but they took Masters.”

“No one on watch.” he said quietly.

Shit,
I thought,
screwed up again!

“Movement!” came a call behind me. Someone opened up with a barrage of automatic fire.

I glanced over my shoulder, but I could not see anything.

“Down!” called Kekkin, shoving me aside. He cried out in pain, and I looked up to see the armour on his arm smouldering with vapour. From the mists, I could make out several dark shapes and I sprayed fire at them. Kekkin knelt down and desperately tried to remove his armour segment.

“
Calak
spits acid,” he said between clenched teeth, “We need to push back, we are
fedang
.”

“Stun grenades!” I called, gripping my last grenade in my fist. Several others pulled their own out and activated the timers. “Now!”

As one, we tossed the stun grenades outwards in all directions. Bright flashes, muffled by the mist, illuminated the area. The loud thuds of the devices caused the enemy to cry out in piercing shrieks, while electrical arcs stunned those nearby. In the brief moment of light, I could make out the location of the nearest shapes and shouldered my rifle.

“On me!” I called, unleashing a burst of hardlight. Several other shots rang out as the squad found their own targets. I called out more commands, “Move! Push through them!”

Kekkin, the armour torn from his forearm, scooped up a duffle bag and slung it over his back, I grabbed another and Renthal took the last. All the while, the others fired continuously into the mists. Someone had the foresight to switch on their suit lights, and it wasn’t long before the others did the same. The light only penetrated a dozen metres, but it was enough to keep the enemy at bay.

We ran. Stepping over the shattered forms of the creatures as we went, we dashed up the nearest stairwell, hoping that it wasn’t another dead end. I glanced at one of the creatures as I kicked it aside. I couldn’t make out the exact features, but it looked like some kind of arachnid with an upraised torso. It had chitin for armour, and a long proboscis drooling with acid that smoked on the exposed rusty deck plate.

Someone screamed in pain. I paused and looked back to see Carro trying to get Gunther on his feet. A trio of creatures appeared out of the mist and Carro tried to get off a burst with his rifle one handed. More lunged down from above, falling upon the pair with flailing limbs. I snapped off a burst at the closest ones, watching them fall back and over the railing. Several of the creatures grabbed Gunther and hauled him off over the side while he screamed. I tried to stop them, opening up in automatic, but there was too many of them.

“Kekkin! Keep pushing! I’ll be right behind you!” I called, moving to help Carro. The others kept moving. I reached Carro to see him slashing at a pair with his combat knife. His left arm hung uselessly by his side, his rifle dangling from its sling. I hammered rounds into the pair, their bodies exploding in a hail of ichor and black chitin.

“They got Gunther!” called Carro.

“Fall back!” I yelled, snapping off another burst into the mists. He backpedalled, turned and ran. My rifle suddenly stopped firing – I canted the gun on its side and saw the battery indicator red. I popped the cell and slapped in another, letting the empty battery fall to the deck. As Carro ran past me, I kept firing. After another second or two I turned and ran as well.

I watched as the deck below Carro suddenly burst apart and two more of the creatures pulled Carro through the gap. Screaming in surprise, I tried to get a clear shot as the Argen disappeared below the platform and into the mist. I could hear his screams cut short, only metres below me. I shouted in frustration, then saw that I had fallen behind the others. I could see the glow of hardlight rounds shooting through the murk, the suit lights stabbing out like white lances. I activated my own lights and ran after them, not daring to stop or look behind me.

The squad started to head up another stairwell as I reached them. Renthal was on his knee covering the squad as they made their way up. I tapped him on the shoulder as I ran past and let out several short bursts at the creatures following. Gripping a slimy rail, I vaulted over to the stairs and took them three at a time. I could hear the clang of Renthal’s boots on the metal as he followed.

“Frag out!” he called, and I doubled my efforts to climb. A shuddering boom echoed across the area and the whole platform shook violently. I got to the top and noted with relief that the mists were starting to thin. The others had already run ahead to another stairwell twenty metres away. Kekkin was covering, pushing Artemis to the stairs while Geko helped Rego climb.

We ran like this for half an hour, stopping occasionally to check for pursuit. The creatures, whatever they were, had fallen back. Either we had killed enough of them to give them pause, or they had enough victims to sate their hunger for us.

We stopped to catch our breath. This time, I made sure someone had their eyes on our surroundings.

“What in the galaxy were those things?” asked Geko, eyes wide in fear.

“I have no idea. Anyone else hurt?” I said.

“They got Gunther and Masters!” he said, panic in his voice.

“And Carro. Nothing we can do about that now. We have to focus!”

“We’re fucked!”

Kekkin walked up to him and cracked him over the head with his gauntlet. Geko stumbled and fell to one knee.

“Human does not give up!” he shouted. He looked like he was about to hit him again but I caught his arm.

“Stop! This was my fault!” I yelled, “I shouldn’t have let my guard down. I should have posted a sentry when we rested.”

“
Kak
does not talk like that! Geko knows better.” he said.

“
I
know better! If you have to hit someone, hit me!”

He glared at the cowering Geko, then looked at me. I could see in his face that he was only acting out of fear and frustration. I helped Geko to his feet.

We checked each other over. Tac had caught two globs of acid spit on his chassis, and the plastic trimming was melted where it touched. Art had a new cut on her arm, where her Composite Armour did not protect. I checked Kekkin’s arm and saw that it was blistering from the burn. I helped him apply a nanite patch and a dose of painkillers.

Renthal and myself were the only ones not injured, as even Rego had caught a limb strike that had pierced his shoulder plate. Blood ran down his right arm, but he was still able to wield a pistol.

Time to face the music. I contacted Ormund to tell him the bad news.

What happened?

They jumped us while we were resting, we were all so exhausted that we didn’t post a sentry and they took Masters while we dozed.

Do you have any idea what they were?

None. They were some kind of insect that spat acid at us. I’m sending you some stills that I caught, see if you can identify them.

I’ve never seen these before,
he texted after he had checked the images out,
but Dr Montannis says they might be native to Ghan.

Why would they be here? Did the Ghantri bring them from their homeworld? What purpose would that serve?

I can only speculate. Perhaps the Ghantri use them for food?

There was a pause in the conversation while we both thought.

How is the rest of the squad holding up?
Ormund asked

I looked about at the others. There was a mix of exhaustion, fear and grief on their faces but, for the most part, they looked determined.

They’re keeping it together. The shock of what just happened is still sinking in, I think.

They’re professionals, they just need the right leader.

I’m not sure I’m that person, anymore. I screwed up, big time.

Fatigue is a powerful enemy, my father used to say. Everyone makes mistakes. As leaders, we simply have to learn from them faster than others.

How do I even begin to make this up to the squad?

You can’t. Trust me, I tried. After I screwed up and got Tucker killed, I don’t think the squad ever fully put their trust in me again. They knew how inexperienced I was and it showed. You, on the other hand, already have a lot of respect from the others. That’s a big emotional bank account to draw from.

That respect is due to a lot of hype generated by the Protectorate. I’m not sure I’m the same person they made me out to be.

Bullshit. They didn’t buy into the propaganda, either. We studied your after action reports and your recounts of your time behind enemy lines. That respect came from the tactical decisions that you made due an impossible situation. Not from some bravado riddled drivel spouted by the politicos. Those men went into that station knowing full well there was going to be casualties. You’re almost on the surface now, don’t give up yet.

I thought about his words for a while. It was hard to fathom, but I knew that he spoke a measure of truth. I had expected a lot more casualties by that point, when I had started this thing.

The trick was, keeping the rest of us alive until we saw this through.