Fracture Lines (The Glass Complex Book 2) (17 page)

“If size is any indication, Monty could do some damage with those guns,” Kirby said. “We’ve adjusted gravity to 3 in the corridor to make it more difficult for them to maneuver.”

As he spoke, the corridor exploded in fire and smoke as rows of anti-personnel mines, hidden in the walls, exploded outwards, targeting the aliens. Steg heard the wash of harsh explosive sounds over the comms link with the squad leader. He checked the screen—the marines were moving forward, trusting their exo-armor shields. An AWE was in advance, and it commenced firing heavy caliber flechette blasts down the corridor at the aliens.

The squad commander instructed his men, “A Team, open fire. Aim for legs or arms. B Team, prepare to lay down covering fire.” A hail of intensive weapons fire filled the corridor.

Steg caught glimpses of the armored cephalopods through waves of smoke wafting along the corridor. Monty’s wives, smaller and lighter, were knocked down by the force of numerous projectile impacts and were struggling to aim and fire their weapons. Monty had been hit in the tentacles he was using to walk. Steg watched as the alien dropped to the floor and began readying his two weapons. The rapid fire from A Team was creating major difficulties for the cephalopod. At last, it seemed Monty was ready, and sprays of lighting streamed out from the barrel of each of his strange weapons.

“What the hell is he using?” Kirby muttered.

The lightning spray hit one of the marines, and his scream was cut short as the full impact roasted his exo-armor.

“Switch to anti-armor, now. Both teams, fire at will,” ordered Dean.

The fire rate increased, and Steg could hear the heavier caliber weapons from the AWE. Exploding shells impacted the aliens who were struggling with their weapons. Steg thought there was a likelihood more than paint would be stripped from the walls by the heavier fire. Two of Monty’s wives had suffered direct hits from the missiles, and their armor had ruptured, the water content adding steam to the clouds of smoke in the corridor. Monty’s weapons were no longer firing. They had been hit and damaged by the AWE shells. Monty was scrambling on the floor, trying to join his wives, two of whom had ceased to move. The third, smaller alien had also ceased fire; she was attempting to attend to her two fellow wives.

The heavy fire from the AWE impacted Monty’s armor, causing it to freeze up. The alien was struggling to survive but had not yet given in. He stripped off parts of his armor apparently to regain mobility in spite of the dangers of exposure. His armor was leaking water. He was struggling to reach his wives and at the same time was trying to reset his lightning generator weapons.

“Target everything on Monty,” Dean commanded. His instruction was followed by another rapid burst of fire from his teams. The shells exploded, and their force lifted Monty into the air, slamming him against the bulkhead at the end of the corridor. He rolled, tentacles moving aimlessly, out of control. He was unable to stand; he was weaponless and the impacts of exploding projectiles had pushed him away from his wives. His tentacles thrashed and twisted. Steg enlarged the image on the screen, focusing in on Monty. His tentacles were seeking and grabbing mindlessly, using their razor sharp teeth to flense whatever they contacted, including other tentacles; their ability to safeguard their parent body was lost due to severe injuries. A pool of water, purple blood, and stripped flesh built around the formless bulk that had been Monty.

“Cease fire,” Dean said.

There was no movement from the cephalopod aliens. Smoke and steam whirled and gradually cleared as the ventilator fans reacted to clear the air. The silence was a sudden shock after so much noise.

“It’s a pity Monty was so focused on getting to the command deck,” Dean said. He and Steg watched as the A Team leader moved his men forward to examine each of the aliens.

“Tell him to take care; their bodies could be booby-trapped,” suggested Steg.

“Done—part of SOP,” Dean replied.

The marine completed his examination of each of the four armored aliens. He triggered a communication to the war room as he stood. “They’re all dead.”

“Well done,” said Dean. “I’ll send you some support to clean up. We taped it all; you can watch the replay later if you want. What happened to your man?”

“Sadly, he’s dead. The lightning blast split open his armor and electrocuted him. Monty’s weapons were more powerful than we expected. We’re fortunate he didn’t get an opportunity to set them up properly.”

Steg said to Kirby and Dean, “We need to determine a response to his weapon in case the Xesset have them.”

Kirby said, “What if we turned on the fire sprinklers—would that ground them?”

The two men nodded.

Dean said, “We can do some tests.”

Steg added. “Also consider installing steel mesh in the ceilings. If we dropped mesh on anyone carrying a lightning weapon, it might ground it or cause it to backfire towards the shooter. Lots more testing needed.”

“I’ll organize some men for the task,” Dean said.

“What about Monty’s fourth wife—at least he said he had four?” Steg asked.

“We still have the communication link we used before. I’ll try to make contact. She might answer,” Kirby said.

“Tell her we’ll accept her surrender, and in turn we’ll provide and maintain an adequate environment until we can land her somewhere suitable.”

“Monty always was the spokesperson,” Dean said. “She may not be able to speak to us.”

“Understood. Kirby, see what you can do. Dean, we need to empty and examine the tank in any case—it could be mined. I can’t imagine Monty would miss an opportunity to damage us if he was defeated. As for his surviving wife, if necessary, we’ll build a temporary tank to house a small cephalopod. Can you get your engineers to start working on those tasks?” Steg said.

“I’ll check. They found another five collapsible bladders so they can drain off a lot more water if necessary. They may have a solution for emptying the containers into space. I’ll arrange for a team to search for explosives or traps. I’m sure we can do something for the survivor.”

“Good. I’ll be with Commander Gillespie. Keep me updated. Tell the men well done.”

The bridge of
Wasp
was fully manned with everyone watching as the starship’s Helm edged the starship up to the asteroid belt, seeking a gap where she could position and hide
Wasp
amongst the huge tumbling rocks. Steg thought the woman was Tacian; she was surprising petite, with vivid green hair and her eyes changed color between shades of blue and green, seemingly on a random basis. She appeared to be barely out of her teens. The maneuver was completed without incident, and the bridge officers applauded. She turned to the commander, a relieved smile on her face. “I don’t want to do that again, ever,” she said. “I aged about fifteen years, I’m sure.”

“It was well done, Aadan,” Joyce Gillespie said. “I had complete faith in you.” The commander addressed the bridge. “Now we’ll wait for the Xesset. Our last report indicates they’ll be in this region in approximately seven hours. We’ll cloak in six hours. Remember, we need to run silently—no signals, no outbound communications, and minimum electronic activity.”

When the commander completed her instructions, Steg said, “You have an excellent bridge team. Aadan is outstanding.”

“I agree. She’s invaluable. How did Monty’s attack end?”

“The alien’s dead. He charged out with three of his wives in support. They were also killed. We think there’s one survivor although we haven’t managed to contact her yet. We’ll have to convince her we don’t mean harm unless she attacks us. The problem will be to get her back to her home planet once this is all over. Maybe
Wasp
can take a trip when you complete this assignment?”

“I suppose we could help. Let me know when you’ve managed to communicate with her.”

“I’ll keep you updated. How are you progressing?”

“As you saw, we’ve moved into the edge of the asteroid belt. We laid out passive sensor stations on the way in. They communicate on a directed narrow beam, which should be undetectable by the Xesset. The sensors expand our observational reach. We’ll know if a ship arrives anywhere within five light minutes or so. I’ll get Weapon’s team to show you, when you have time.”

“I’ll look forward to their demo. Have you seen the colonel? I worry when I don’t know what he might be up to.”

“No.” She paused, tapping her fingers on her command console. She continued. “He
has
been very quiet. You’ve alarmed me, now. I’ll have some of my crew check for him and his companions. You might organize your men to do the same. I suggest you start with the priestess—they could be with her.”

“I’ll check. In the meantime, contact me or Dean if anyone finds him. Them.”

The mercenary captain was supervising the clean-up of the debris and damage resulting from the battle with Monty and his wives, and when Steg joined him, he said, “They put up a good fight. However, they were totally overwhelmed. I thought he’d have more sense than to take on all of us.”

“You have a point. I wondered. Maybe he panicked. It’s one thing to sit back and plan strategy, but it’s entirely different to be threatened with direct action. Did he think the Xesset were closer? Or did he expect support from Attwood?”

Dean said, “Either or both. Too late now. We don’t know enough about him to determine whether this was typical behavior. He was interested in our culture and philosophies and totally reserved when it came to his. We talked a few times. He would never tell me anything about his race or origin.”

Steg said, “He questioned me, over and over. It was one-sided; he didn’t disclose background details, at all. I have another task, if you can spare some men? We’ve lost sight of the colonel and his companions. We need to know where they are at all times. It’s worrying when they’re silent. They could be planning something as nonsensical as Monty’s escapade.”

“Should we restrain them? We can organize three cabins and tell them to stay there. Guards on the doors would keep them locked away.”

“Agreed. In the meantime, can you arrange for a couple of small work parties to start sweep-searching
Wasp
? I’ll go visit their priestess and see if she knows anything, assuming she’ll talk to me.”

Steg walked almost the length of the starship, towards the stern, to the cabin occupied by the Charion priestess. It was located past the E deck storage areas where bays and shelves held items a starship might never need, and when it did, the ship would be days away from the nearest way station. Replacement parts, spars, coils of metal for engineering, all measures of nuts and bolts and nails and screws, spare parts and raw materials for the 4D printers, shuttle and air-v spares, computer components, and other items filled the shelves. The crew of
Wasp,
when carrying out repairs, couldn’t visit the nearest starship chandler for a missing part or component; it either was here, in the stores, or there was a template for its manufacture by the printers.

Aware there were another three decks holding similar supplies, he realized
Wasp
had a comprehensive inventory of supplies and spares.

Power saving lights switched on as motion sensors detected his transit and turned off after he passed by. Gradually, odors from the industrial mix of oils, lubricants, and other materials typical of a starship were replaced by a new and strange odor that strengthened as he continued. It was, he assumed, incense from the priestess’s ceremonies. As he neared his destination, he observed the walls of the corridor were no longer painted starship gray; instead, broad sweeps of vibrant primary colors spread from floor to ceiling. The floor was rainbow striped, the colors separating and merging in waves, only to separate again. Now, battle scenes replaced the broad sweeps of color on the walls. They portrayed men and aliens fighting, some together, some against each other, with ancient weapons, spears and swords and slings, and showed men dying, turning into skeletons and being resurrected to fight again. Finally, slowly, gradually, all colors merged until there was only one color: black. Now the floor, walls, and ceiling of the corridor were one.

Steg almost stumbled as the lights, which had been growing dimmer, were suddenly extinguished. Ahead, a soft glimmer of light filtered its way through a heavy curtain. He had, he assumed, reached the quarters of the priestess. He stopped at the curtain. There was no bell, no signs, nothing to use to announce his presence. He wondered what the polite protocol was for gaining admission.

“Steg de Coeur.” The speaker had a soft, feminine voice with an unexpected vibrancy. He suspected it was electronically enhanced. “Please enter. Your presence is welcome, if unexpected.”

Steg pushed aside the curtain and entered the room. It was furnished as a small sitting room, with six soft and inviting chairs, two small tables, lighted incense sticks, and rugs hanging on the walls. Oil lamps provided a flickering illumination. The incense odor was stronger, almost oppressive. The rugs portrayed battle scenes of individual death and destruction; they were separate and smaller replicas of the scenes on the corridor walls. The ceiling was painted black. The floor was decorated with a large and extremely lifelike painting of an inferno. He looked down and it seemed the flames were reaching up, enveloping his legs. He shook his head and looked away. The multidimensional challenge of the flames faded.

An alien stepped out from behind a curtain at the end of the room; he did not recognize her species. Her face was heavily made up with a red ochre or colored dye applied to her cheeks and lips. Her head was wide; her brow was heavy and overhung her face. Her mouth extended from one side of her head to the other, and when she smiled, Steg saw two serried rows of gleaming white teeth, pointed and sharp. Her tongue was split, lizard-like, and it flicked out and back as she walked towards Steg. She wore a heavy gown-like garment; it reached to the floor, covering and hiding her body. He was unable to see her legs or feet, and her hands were hidden inside the folds of her long sleeves.