The Catherine Kimbridge Chronicles #8, Replicants Page 4

  “Ben, launch jump-enabled missiles to take out the nearest set of sensors. Let’s blind them for a few minutes.”

  “Missiles deployed and detonating,” her Exec confirmed.

  At this point the Ashtoreth could no longer see the WhimPy but thanks to the Mador and Yorktown in cloaked orbit around Bashar, she still had a real-time FTL sensor feed of them.

  “The Yorktown confirms both warships are breaking orbit and heading in our direction. The dozen or so civilian vessels are also breaking orbit and heading out of the planet’s gravity well so they will be free to jump if they need to.”

  “Is the Relentless in position to intercept the civilian ships before they climb out of the gravity well?”

  “Confirmed Admiral,” Ben answered. “Shall I ask Vigit to scramble scorpions to intercept those ships?”

  “Absolutely,” Cat said, “I don’t want excessive casualties but each and every one of those ships is a potential intelligence gold mine.”

  Lieutenant Sassi fluttered in his control nest. His blue eyes were intense and his low frequency antenna twitched. “Admiral, I have three more war ships jumping in. Also, the two that were in low orbit are now far enough away from the planet to jump.”

  “Lieutenant, we can’t do anything about the three new bogeys but maybe we can do something about those two leaving orbit. Engage the hyperfield resonator. Let’s see if we can get lucky and take one or both of them out.”

  The hyperfield resonator was a new trick the Yorktown taskforce had recently developed. Point-to-point hyperfield jumps required pumping energy into and out of higher dimensional planes. Without a great deal of care, disruption of these higher planes could cause unconsciousness (as sentience was essentially a manifestation of one of these extradimensional planes.) The purpose of the resonator was to disrupt the careful tuning done to prevent the momentary loss of consciousness after a jump.

  “They are jumping Admiral. The Exeter is scrambling her scorpions,” Sassi reported.

  “Ben, what’s the word on our two new Ashtoreth friends from Bashar? Are they awake or asleep?”

  Ben was busy checking various readout and did not respond immediately. “Ma’am, they appear to be out of it at the moment. Two wings from the Exeter buzzed each of them with no reaction. The scorpions have disabled their drive nodes. They will not be going anywhere anytime soon.”

  “Very good Captain. Let’s go play with those three new kids on the block,” Cat said as she looked at the three large ships accelerating towards their position. “Signal the Yorktown that they are free to begin their mission.”

  ***

  AG grabbed the strap above his head. Shuttles were always equipped with inertial dampeners but no matter how powerful the engineers made the systems, pilots managed to find a way to push the envelope of their capabilities. The straps were a low-tech way to compensate for the crazy gyrations the pilots put the craft through in their efforts to avoid taking ground fire while at the same time getting to the ground as fast as possible.

  Sadly, it was a very necessary skill that good pilots learned quickly and bad pilots never got a chance to learn. The most dangerous time for a beach assault was always approaching the beach. Stealth systems really didn’t work all that well when traveling at Mach 4.5 through a dense atmosphere.

  “Here we go boys and girls,” Gunny Sergeant Ramirez barked. “Get yer guns and bullets ready to go because the party is happening whether yer all purty’d up or not.”

  At that point the pilot got on the comms.

  “Landing in ten seconds. Once we are down you have thirty seconds to deplane. If you are still onboard after that you get to join me on an exciting puke run up to the Yorktown… And again thank you for flying with us today. We hope the next time your travel plans include a combat drop in a hot zone you consider flying the friendly local Yorktown shuttle service.”

  “Smart ass,” JJ mumbled.

  With a thump the shuttle was down. While the vibration of the landing was still making its way through the cabin, the out hatch flew open.

  “MOVE IT! MOVE IT! MOVE IT!” Ramirez yelled.

  In precisely twenty eight seconds all thirty marines on the shuttle managed to clear the ramp and make it to the cover of some trees. They were a good three kilometers from their primary target, the logistics center.

  AG saw three other shuttles lifting off. One disappeared as its stealth systems came online. The other two joined his in rocketing straight up. He turned his head around the clearing. He had four squads of thirty men each.

  He toggled his company wide comm channel. “This is Lieutenant Commander Stone. Turn your Starks to hide and seek mode. Neither the enemy nor those we are trying to rescue will be able to see you. Take this into account as you approach friendlies. Remember our goal is to secure the logistics center and any humans you find there. Use of deadly force against humans is prohibited unless it is to save the life of another. Keep in mind our primary targets are the Sergeants… you have your orders. The troops are yours. Move’m out.”

  Stone check his HUD. Everybody had gone to active camo mode. JJ and Private Manu stood next to him. Their bodies were represented with a semi-solid green mesh in his field of view. Their names were emblazoned on their chests.

  The camo software was written in such a way that if a troop were wounded the display would change to yellow and if they were dead it would become flashing red. Of course the likelihood of being killed while the camo field remained active was remote but the designers had built the functionality into the system anyway.

  “OK Sergeant, let’s see if we can’t get into the compound without being detected.”

  “Now sir,” JJ said in his typically British accent, “where would the fun be in that?”

  AG ignored him. Instead he started to jog in the general direction of the logistics complex. The three of them comprised a special insertion team that would enter the compound undetected while the four larger squads would spread out through the surrounding town and neutralize all points of resistance.

  AG was the only augment among them but the Stark suits and general physical fitness of the other two negated much of that advantage.

  The outer boundary of their target was marked by a decidedly abrupt change in the local flora. Apparently the Ashtoreth liked to bring in vegetation that was familiar to them. The greens that had been reminiscent of Earth were replaced with deep purples and lighter tans. As AG pushed past the last of the shrubs he raised a clenched fist to signal a stop.

  All three of them scanned the terrain. Their HUDs provided a detailed analysis of the scene in front of them. There were eighty four squat round buildings arranged in concentric circles about a larger complex of rectangular buildings. Two wide roads fed through the residential part of the town and into the town center where the larger buildings resided.

  “Doesn’t look like much does it,” JJ said softly.

  Manu shook his head. “Just keep in mind that the Ashtoreth live underground. Everything you see here represents but a small fraction of what is actually there.”

  AG looked at JJ and then back to the private. “Now see, that is the type of information that would have been nice to know in advance.”

  Manu managed to look surprised even in the semi-solid green mesh that represented him in AG’s HUD. “My apologies Commander. I had assumed your sensors would have revealed this fact.”

  “They would have,” AG said, “if we had used them. Active sensors are like waving a flag saying ‘Here I am… Come and kill me’”

  “Ah,” Manu agreed. “I can see where this might be a problem. I will endeavor to provide better intelligence going forward.”

  “What else can we expect?” Sergeant Hammond asked as they moved at a slow trot forward.

  “The old ones will be in several of the rectangular buildings. They may have sublevels but it is unlikely. There should not be much security because no one would dare oppose the Masters.”

  Chapter 6: Tannaka�
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  Tannaka’s joints hurt. Such was the fate of the very old. Still it was not time for the great goodbye. This life, cruel though it was, was nonetheless all that he knew. He was not yet ready to trade it for the unknown. His wife of fifty years had finally accepted the inevitable late in the last fall. Unable to accomplish her work for the Masters, and unwilling to see him punished by attempting to cover for her by substituting his work for hers, she had visited the Master’s physician. The Ashtoreth doctor was a dealer of death and yet he was kind in the application of his craft. Tannaka’s wife had not suffered. Unlike him, she had believed in the One True God. In that belief she took comfort.

  The corridor to the building of records grew longer every day. He had known that some of his friends had moved cots to small store rooms near the archives so they would not have to walk the great hall every day. He had resisted the urge. His wife had planted flowers from the old world in their little garden. They were called by a very funny name… tulips. She had loved them and so he worked to make sure they survived.

  One day, if the walk finally got too long he would relent and use one of the many empty cots that now sat unused in the hall of records… but that day had not yet come. The cots were against the rules but the Masters turned a blind eye. Every day that the slaves were able to fulfill their duties was another day the Masters did not have to hire another Ashtoreth to do the work instead. Already the Ashtoreth in the hall of records outnumbered the Basharites. Just a few short years ago he and his fellow slaves could go weeks without seeing one of the Masters. So many had said goodbye.

  As he entered the space that was his office, he saw the stack of requisitions and knew that his day would be a long one.

  He set his midday meal on the counter and picked up the first of the requisitions. This one was for a harvester part. The part in question had a history of failing and so the Master who owned the farm was requesting a spare. Tannaka knew this to be an acceptable reason for the requisition request and so he logged into his computer terminal to see if the warehouse had any on hand. As was often the case, there were none to be had locally.

  Tannaka sighed. He would have to fill out the forms to import the part from one of the technology worlds in the empire. Levenbrech would be the logical choice. Caid was closer but Tannaka knew that shipments from that world were often delayed because of political unrest. No it would be better to go through Levenbrech. They were blessed with every type of fabrication facility in the empire. There would be no problem sourcing the part from there.

  He began the task of filling out the import request. From the corner of his eye he thought he saw a movement. When he turned he saw nothing. Shaking his head, he returned to his work. Several moments later he again saw movement. This time when he turned he saw a young man dressed in the strangest garb. The man put a finger to his mouth. He wanted Tannaka to be quiet. That was OK with Tannaka because his heart was pounding so hard he didn’t think he could have said anything intelligible anyway.

  As he watched two other men literally shimmered into view. The two also wore the strange clothing but they were very small and their skin was an unhealthy tan color.

  Tannaka had no idea what was going on. He recognized technology when he saw it but this was technology that, to his knowledge, the Ashtoreth did not have –and to which the Basharites should not have had access even if they did.

  Before he could say anything an alarm klaxon began to blare. Tannaka’s heart began to seize up. He was ninety two cycles into his life and his system simply could not take the strain. He started to stand up and he grabbed his chest. The last thing he remembered seeing was one of the smaller men rushing to catch him. The man was impossibly fast.

  ***

  Sergeant First Class Hammond caught the ancient Basharite before he could fall and hurt himself further. JJ had never seen a man this old and frail. Modern medicine had all but eliminated this type of frailty. He ran his hand over the man’s chest. Scanners built into his Stark suit told him immediately what was happening. The man had numerous blocked arteries in his heart and was suffering from a myocardial infarction.

  The solution would have been a serious stint in a modern medical bay. Unfortunately the klaxon was a clue that their visit had no longer gone unnoticed.

  “Do what you can to stabilize him,” AG whispered over their secure comms.

  Manu grabbed his med kit and knelt down next to the old one. He placed a hypospray against his neck. With a swish, a soft load of medical nanites were injected into the older man’s system. It was called a soft load because unlike the self-replicating nanites he had received in the medical bay on board the Yorktown, these nanites were designed to be short lived. Their sole function was to stabilize a patient’s brain functions.

  JJ began chest compressions using a repeller built into the glove of his Stark suit. At the same time Manu sorted through his medical bag and removed two additional hyposprays. The first he injected directly over the older man’s heart when the Sergeant moved his hand for a second. These nanites were designed to repair cardiac tissue. The second hypospray went into the man’s shoulder. This was a generic medical load. It was not personalized but it would provide a base level of support as they worked to get the older man to a proper medical facility.

  Stone ordered JJ to evacuate the older man to the medical shuttle while he and the private continued to reconnoiter the building. The medics on the cloaked shuttle would be able to do far more for the old man then his team could in the field.

  Stone and his men made quick progress going through the logistics center. From a military point of view it was an intelligence goldmine but it was as soft a military target as you were ever likely to find. AG had a feeling that this would not be the case at their next destination.

  In the end, they found a total of four other humans in the facility and twenty six reptilian Ashtoreth. The non-humans were stunned. Only one was armed and the shock stick he carried had no effect on a Stark suit.

  Manu took the shock stick from the guard and used it with great effectiveness (and no small amount of pleasure) on the guard that had tried to use it on him.

  Once the old ones were all gathered and turned over to a second group of Marines for safe keeping, Stone directed his team back over to the logistics center. Their goal, this time, was to retrieve as much data as they could in the few minutes they had before the transport shuttle arrived. What they couldn’t take with them they destroyed. The Ashtoreth would need to completely reestablish their logistics center if they were going to continue operating on this particular world.

  The last thing he did before heading back to the waiting shuttle was to toss a plasma grenade into the main computer room. The back of his Mark Ten Stark suit shimmered silver as it deflected the heat from the grenade as he walked to the shuttle.

  His comm flashed for his attention before he had finished buckling in.

  “Stone here,” he answered.

  “Sir, this is Lieutenant Hendricks. We are still engaged in mop up operations at the spaceport. We lost a shuttle to ground fire before we could fully engage the enemy.”

  “Do you need our assistance?”

  “No sir. I think we have a handle on this but it’s going to take us a couple of hours to check every little bolt hold these buggers are using. Seems they live underground.”

  AG turned to face Manu who was sitting quietly with tube of a massive plasma launcher between his knees…

  “Yeah we figured that out ourselves. Very well Lieutenant. Get the job done and then contact me when you are ready to move to your next objective which will be the Planetary Administration Center. I don’t expect to collect much Intel from their PAC… if their officers are worth their salt they are prepping their systems for a fast purge. Still you may get lucky.”

  “Acknowledged Commander. We will finish securing the Port then proceed to the PAC. I will touch base with you prior to redeploying my forces. Hendricks out.”

  ***

 
; First Consul B’sarn scanned the horizon with his optical enhancers. He had his soldiers stationed every few measures about the east wall of the depot. The combined maintenance facility and soldier billets was heavily fortified against ground or air attack. Usually his men were called to this type of duty during combat readiness drills. He knew this was no drill. Such drills could be staged only by direct order of Praefectus Niegar, the Ashtoreth leader on this Creator forsaken planet.

  As the Praefectus was enjoying a wild Basharite hunt at the moment, B’sarn knew this was no drill. The timing was fortuitous as his routing of the enemy would reflect well on his service record.

  Apparently some unknown faction had decided it would be a good idea to attack the Empire. Whoever they were, they were in for an unpleasant surprise. The Ashtoreth Empire did not respond well to aggression within its borders.

  Already word had come in that both the Spaceport and the more distant Records Archive had been targeted. The choice of targets confused him. The Spaceport was a logical target. As such it was well defended as a matter of established colony world doctrine. The Records Archive however was an illogical and useless objective. Any data stored there would most assuredly be duplicated at the PAC.

  B’sarn gurgled in his throat in confusion. Such sounds were considered uncouth but he was alone and unconcerned about what others thought about him anyway. It wasn’t like the likes of him would ever be invited to serve in the palace.

  If he had been the alien commander he would have attacked the occupation force billets before a logistics center. But then again, if he had been the alien commander he would never have been stupid enough to attack the Ashtoreth Empire. Making an enemy of the most powerful race in the known universe was never a good idea. He scanned the surrounding area one more time. There was nothing to see. It seemed the enemy was either invisible or too smart to attack such a strongly defended fortification.