Peggy Sue (The T'aafhal Inheritance) (36 page)

“Captain,” Bear interjected, “I can’t help but notice that there are an awful lot of crickets with pointy objects in this room, and not just in the crowd. I see more peeking out from the side galleries.”

“They may just be nervous about having their Queen exposed to a bunch of off world visitors,” Jack replied. Their internal conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the translation of the Queen’s next question.

“How marvelous to have such a ship! Does your Queen possess many such craft? You must truly be a powerful empire to have a fleet of ships that sail among the stars.”

“Interesting how she assumes we are ruled by a Queen,” Ludmilla remarked.

“More interesting is how she is pumping us to find out how large a fleet we possess,” Jack added. He considered his reply to the Queen for a few seconds and then spoke. “Our people have many large fleets and have sent many missions to strange planets in the past, Your Majesty. I do not know the exact numbers, but more are added every day.”

“You really should not lie to her, Jack,” Ludmilla chided.

“Not lies, my dear, but half truths,” he responded. “The nations back home do have many sizable fleets, just not of spacecraft, and we have sent many probes to the outer planets. If she draws the wrong conclusions it isn’t my problem.”

“She seems to be chewing on that answer, Captain,” Bear said. “She’s chattering to that guy next to her in the shiny armor. He must be some kind of general or something.”

“A monarch would have a military adviser or two running around the palace somewhere. Peggy Sue, can you make out what they are saying to each other?”

“Why Captain, eavesdropping on a private conversation would be very undiplomatic,” snipped Ludmilla. “I am sure M. de Belcour would disapprove.”

The ship’s computer replied primly, “Of course I’m listening to them. The Ktchzz in the engraved armor is General Hzooshkit, evidently the Queen’s top commander. The Queen asked if your claims could be true, to which the General replied that you were being intentionally vague as any good military leader would.”

“So the General is no dummy,” Jack mused.

“The Queen is asking if our ship alone could destroy their world… and the General just said ‘probably, if the ships of the others are any example.’”

“Others?” Jack and Ludmilla said together, “what others?”

Diplomat’s Chamber, Imperial Palace

As Jean-Jacques’ party entered the chamber the Ktchzz host surged forward, surrounding and separating the humans. A number of the smaller, darker furred natives swarmed Chief Morgan, knocking him off his feet while others seized the diplomats. Over his suit’s radio he could hear panicked shouts from the others.

“What are you doing?” cried Sally, “Let go of me!”

“
Mon Dieu!
This is not acceptable behavior, even for aliens. Let me up… ahhh!”

“Get off me! Jean-Jacques, someone help,” yelled Kim. As the unarmored members of the party were wrestled to the ground by the hoard of hopping crickets, the larger white aliens approached them at a more measured pace. Bobbing in front of each Ktchzz “princess” was a long shaft, extending more than a meter from the creature’s lower abdomen. At the end of each, fifteen centimeters of needle tip protruded from a cluster of six centimeter spikes, quivering with every move of the shaft’s owner.

Jean-Jacques managed to roll over on his stomach and was trying to crawl away. Several of the brown crickets were slashing at Kim with the spikes on their forearms, renting the fabric of her coverall and tearing the tougher space suit beneath.

Skip was backpedaling, fighting off the aliens with one arm and fumbling to get at his sidearm with the other. “Mayday, Mayday,” Chief Morgan called on the emergency frequency. “We are under attack, repeat, under attack.” 

“Get that thing away from me!” shrieked Sally, as one of the white crickets climbed on top of her. It rose up and mounted the helpless botanist, driving the tip of its shaft into her abdomen. That is when the screaming began in earnest.

* * * * *

Back at the waiting shuttles, Chief Morgan’s voice crackled over the emergency frequency. “Mayday! Mayday!” Before he could say “we are under attack,” the other SEALs were down shuttle two’s rear ramp and running toward the palace opening. “Jones! Kowalski!” yelled GySgt Rodriguez. Releasing the transmit key she added, “fuckin’ sailor boys got no fuckin’ discipline.”

“Lt. Lewis, please release the battle bots and ask Lt. McKennitt to do the same,” the Gunny called out. “All right Marines, let’s move out, double time. Inuksuk, you’re on point. Corpsman White I think we may need you with us on this.” The big polar bear’s response was an unintelligible growl as he bounded down the ramp and followed after the SEALs. He was quickly followed by the remaining Marines with Aurora, the Gunny and Corpsman White bringing up the rear.

Like the SEALs, Betty White wore light armor under the assumption that if she was needed to work on wounded in the field the greater dexterity of an unpowered suit would outweigh the loss of protection. As she left the shuttle she called to Steve Hitch, one of the crewmen on board, “You might want to get a floater ready, if we have casualties we won’t want to carry them and fight our way out at the same time.”

“Sure thing, Betty,” he replied. “Give the word and Matt and I will be there pronto.” Both Hitch and Jacobs were wearing power armor and together, they formed the reserve force’s reserve force. Betty nodded to the pair, trouble makers most times but steady and courageous under fire.

Watching the medic jog down the ramp, Jacobs said to Hitch, “you know, Stevie, there’s got to be about a bazillion bugs in that place.”

“That just means it’ll be a target rich environment,” his friend replied as the Marines disappear into the gloom of the Imperial Palace.

* * * * *

Knocked to his back on the chamber floor, Chief Morgan reacted quickly, lashing out in all directions. His suit may have been unpowered but the SEAL was strong as an ox and trained to inflict debilitating damage on opponents in hand-to-hand combat. Kicking one cricket away with his left leg uncovered his left arm. Using the freed limb to bludgeon the Ktchzz directly on top of him, the attacker’s head was quickly reduced to pulp, dripping yellow and green ichor.

Casting off the dead carcass, Rick rolled to a crouch while drawing his rail-gun from its hiding place. Like Ludmilla and the Captain, his weapon was the rail-gun equivalent of a submachine gun—a bullpup, 5mm flechette gun that took standard 200 round magazines but lacked the 20mm grenade launcher/shotgun of the standard issue Marine weapon.
I just knew we were going to need more firepower than this popgun,
he thought bitterly.
I hate being right about shit like that.
 

Having sent the distress call, he focused on picking off Ktchzz with short, well aimed bursts, trying to work his way toward the nearest member of the diplomatic party. Four or five meters in front of him he could see glimpses of flailing arms and legs in a white coverall that could only be Kim Lawson.
Good,
he thought,
if she’s fighting back she’s still alive and not gravely wounded.
 

Between bursts he could hear the sporadic crack of another rail-gun—evidently Midshipman Tanner had managed to get his sidearm into action. “Hang in there, Mr. Tanner,” the SEAL said over the party frequency, “Help is on the way.”
At least it better be or we’re toast.
 

Throne Room, Imperial Palace

“The general mentioned other off-world visitors?” Jack said. “Damn, I can’t ask about other visitors now, not without them realizing we’ve been eavesdropping on them.”

“The Queen seems unduly agitated,” Ludmilla remarked. “Perhaps she thinks we mean them harm.” A buzzing sound rose in the background as the crowd of Ktchzz shifted anxiously.

“Evidently they have had dealings with visiting aliens in the past,” continued the Peggy Sue. “Captain, the Ambassador has just informed me that the only spacefaring beings in this part of the galaxy during the last several million years or so have all been in league with the Dark Lords.”

Oh crap,
Jack thought,
we may be standing around making small talk with one of our enemy’s allies.
“The Ambassador is sure of that?” he asked. “We may be in the midst of a hornet’s nest.” Before Peggy Sue could reply, the throne room erupted into bedlam.
 

Dozens of pike wielding guards leapt forward, halberds high above their heads. Evidently, the creatures’ favored form of attack was to jump high into the air, bringing their ax-headed pikes down on their intended targets with maximum force. While such a blow might have cleaved an opposing Ktchzz in two, the Marines were encased in armor much tougher than steel, leather or chitin.

The attacking royal guards were swatted down or flung aside by massive armored limbs, powered by electroreactive polymer muscles with more than human strength. Bear and Isbjørn moved to cover the flanks, protecting Ludmilla and the Captain from most of the attackers. Their roars could be heard over the radio as JT’s mechanical claws proved to be as horribly effective as he and the bears had hoped. Bear’s massive clawed paws acted like scythes, reaping a harvest of severed torsos, limbs and heads.

Even with cover from the bears, several of the halberd wielding guards managed to strike at Ludmilla and Jack. Though their suits were unpowered and more lightly armored than the Marines, the couple quickly engaged the Ktchzz that tried to attack them down. Thanks to years of martial arts training Ludmilla’s reactions were swift and deadly—grabbing an attacker’s halberd by its shaft and pulling its owner off balance. She stepped into the creature to block any counter move at the same time bringing an armored forearm down, smashing the Ktchzz’s head.

While Ludmilla was killing her assailant, Jack was also dealing with a bounding attack. The Queen’s general had drawn a scimitar like sword from the scabbard at his waist and launched himself at the Captain blade held high. In response, Jack sidestepped the descending edged weapon, grabbing the backside of the blade with his left gauntlet while delivering a right handed blow. Starting with his clenched fist at waist height, Jack rotated his arm, shoulder and upper body as he struck, driving his fist into the general with the full force of his muscular body. Landing just below the junction of head and thorax, Jack’s armored fist snapped the Ktchzz’s neck, nearly decapitating the hapless general.

Looking toward the throne, it became clear that the general’s move was cover for the Queen’s hasty withdrawal from the audience chamber. Doors had opened behind Her Majesty and she was swiftly pulled, throne and all, back through the portal.

The general’s body lay fallen at the Captain’s feet, still gripping the wicked scimitar. Jack yanked on the sword but the dying Ktchzz had a death-grip on the weapon. Placing a boot on the general’s breastplate, Jack pulled with both arms, wrenching one of the dead cricket’s arms from its socket. After literally disarming his attacker, Jack belatedly remembered his firearm.

Drawing his rail-gun he glanced in Ludmilla’s direction in time to see her likewise arming herself with something other than her fists. In the fleeting seconds between the first wave of Ktchzz and the second, the Marines also drew their weapons and the tide of battle changed. A withering hail of flechette fire beat back the attacking Ktchzz who responded with counter fire of their own. A flight of arrows rained down on the Earthlings from the gallery ringing the chamber.

“Bear! Isbjørn! Suppressing fire on the balconies,” Jack ordered.

“Aye, Captain!” Bear replied, sweeping the galleries to the right with a fusillade of 15mm explosive shells from his multi-barreled rail-gun. On the left, Isbjørn did the same with a stream of 5mm flechettes pouring forth at 4,000 rounds per minute.

Diplomat’s Chamber, Imperial Palace

Chief Morgan finally managed to clear a path to Kim, who was still fighting back but pinned to the floor by a bevy of brown crickets. Using the chitinous barbs on their forearms they ripped open both coverall and suit to reveal Kim’s midriff, which was bleeding from several long gashes. Her head was pointed at Rick and her legs toward the center of the chamber, from which a large white Ktchzz was advancing on her.

The creature’s long spiked member was bobbing in front of it as it shuffled toward the helpless girl. Rick had no doubt what would happen next. “Not so fast you alien asshole,” he said, firing a burst into the Ktchzz’s abdomen at the base of its shaft.

The white Ktchzz reared up and emitted a piercing, high frequency wail that caused an immediate frenzy among the brown crickets. With a second burst, the alien’s head exploded into chunks of fur and chitin, trailing yellow body fluids. The remaining aliens surged forward, antennae waving and mandibles gnashing.

“Oh they did not like that at all,” Rick said to no one in particular. Grabbing Kim’s shoulder with his left hand, he drug her away from the advancing swarm of hairy insects. With surging effort, the SEAL threw the now almost catatonic Kim behind him and then fired a long burst, swinging from left to right. This slowed the bug onslaught long enough to slap a new magazine into his weapon.