Mission: Eradicate (Obsidiar Fleet Book 6), page 6
“Like the Estral?”
“The Estral were strong. Do you really think there are not other species out there, even mightier than the Estral?”
“I would prefer it if humanity were given the opportunity to become one of these mighty species you mention. The Ghasts too, if that’s what your race desires.”
“We will expand and grow at our own pace, Captain Charles Blake. If anyone tries to dictate otherwise, we Ghasts will destroy them.”
It was no idle boast as the Confederation had once found to its cost. The Ghasts fought hard and they were a formidable, relentless opponent.
Blake fell silent, thinking. If the Aranol was gone, there might be no way to trace the Vraxar. It was possible they’d left behind a positron trail from their entry into lightspeed. Such a trail would fade over time and if the enemy ship had departed a long time ago, it would be impossible to pick up again.
“I have completed my scan of the visible side of the fourth planet,” said Ran-Lor. “There is no wreckage.”
“I’ll bring us around so you can scan the remainder,” Blake replied.
“Your Ulterior-2 isn’t on this planet.”
“What makes you so sure?”
Ran-Lor spoke words. His language module hesitated. [Translation unclear. Concept unclear.]
“Is this the Ghast equivalent of a hunch?” asked Blake.
“Guesswork based on feeling,” rumbled Hiven-Tar, as if the idea were incredibly novel.
“No, Captain Blake, this is not exactly a hunch,” said Ran-Lor.
“What is it, then?”
“A knowledge of certainties,” the Ghast replied. “The Ulterior-2 is not on the fourth planet.”
Blake wasn’t quite ready to alter his search plans based on the alien’s mystifying implication that it knew things it couldn’t possibly know. On the other hand, he wasn’t ready to dismiss the Ghast’s claims just for the sake of it. There were people in the Space Corps’ Projections Team who could divine probabilities from the tiniest amount of evidence. It could be that a few members of the Ghast species were similar.
“Does this mean the Ulterior-2 is not destroyed?”
“I do not know.”
“I have a reading from the third planet,” said Hiven-Tar.
Blake jumped to his feet. “What have you got?”
“As I said - a reading.”
Pages of Ghast script covered the screens of Hiven-Tar’s console. The Ghast pointed helpfully at a few lines of symbols, which Blake was entirely unable to read. He took a spacesuit visor from the bridge locker and placed it over his head. The HUD automatically translated the symbols into words and numbers he could understand.
“How did you find that?” asked Blake.
Hiven-Tar had somehow intercepted an irregular outbound transmission and tracked it to its source. In the process, he’d identified dozens – hundreds – more, travelling through space in many different directions.
“The transmitter is using a similar method to that employed in Ghast installations,” said Ran-Lor.
It took Blake a few minutes to unravel the method used by Hiven-Tar. The transmissions themselves were tiny, encrypted packets, probably little more than handshake requests for the receptor. They were also banded exceptionally tightly, to prevent random interception.
“Where’s the transmitter?”
“On the surface of the third planet.”
“Can you show me it?”
“We are seventy million kilometres away and the transmitter is small. I do not believe this warship’s sensors will be able to provide a detailed visual from this range.”
“Do you think you have located some kind of comms hub?”
“Yes.”
“A comms hub should be easy enough to locate from here.”
“The power source and control units will be shielded deep beneath the surface.”
Hiven-Tar appeared to know a great deal about the comms hub he’d discovered and Blake took a moment to realise why. When he came up with the answer, it seemed obvious.
“This is an Estral installation.”
“Yes.”
“An active Estral installation.”
“Automated comms routing hubs are not unusual,” said Ran-Lor.
“I thought the Estral were defeated,” said Dunbar. “How come they’ve got a working facility?”
Hiven-Tar gave a barking laugh. “The Estral may have lost the war, but there is no way the Vraxar could have made them extinct. We are not talking about a species living on a dozen worlds! The Estral were spread across thousands of worlds, with their technologies deployed on thousands more! To wipe them out them entirely would be an impossible task!”
It was an interesting idea and Blake found himself drawn to it. The Estral had once tried to destroy the Confederation, yet he couldn’t help but have sympathy with any species which fought the Vraxar.
“Do you think the Estral will ever recover?” he asked.
“Not soon,” said Ran-Lor. “It will happen eventually if they are given time.”
“You don’t sound concerned. I thought you were mortal enemies?” said Blake.
“Perhaps one day there will be a rapprochement.”
It was a fascinating subject, though something to be pursued another day. It was definitely in the Confederation’s interest to be aware of any shifts in the Ghast attitude towards their parent race. Not that there was currently any easy way for the two sides to meet.
“A comms hub will be equipped with a sensor array,” Blake mused.
“Not necessarily,” said Decker. “A routing station wouldn’t require any scanning capabilities.”
“That is true,” said Ran-Lor. “However, it is possible a routing station would have relayed information gained from another source.”
“Monitoring stations or satellites,” said Blake.
“Which may well contain information relating to the Aranol’s presence in this solar system,” said Decker.
“It is difficult to disguise the presence of a monitoring station,” said Hiven-Tar. “It is likely the Vraxar neutralised any Estral monitoring stations in the vicinity.”
“We don’t know where the Aranol has gone to,” said Blake. “Any possible leads will be contained in the audit logs of the Estral routing station.”
“Are we going to take a look?” asked Dunbar.
“Yes, we are. Take us in with an SRT to an altitude of forty thousand klicks, Lieutenant. I’ll get the computer to spit out a name for this place.”
The Cataclysm’s databanks assigned a name to the third planet.
“Folsgar it is,” said Blake.
The short-range transit was completed in a few seconds and Blake established a stationary orbit directly over the Estral station. He didn’t like to dwell on the subject for too long, but he was painfully aware that without Lieutenant Flynn’s death, the Ghasts might not have been so involved in the search and they might have missed this place entirely.
“Show me what we’ve got.”
Ran-Lor brought the image up on the bulkhead screen. Folsgar was only moderately cold and with an atmosphere not too far from being able to support life. Had chance left this planet only a few million kilometres closer to its sun, it may well have spawned its own forms of life millions of years ago.
The visible part of the Estral transmitter was a metal rod, a single metre in diameter, which protruded forty metres above the surface. It was in a high-sided rocky valley which would limit its broadcasting angle, whilst significantly reducing the chance anything in space would detect the antenna. It bore the hallmarks of a facility created by a species on the run.
“This space here is suitable for landing a shuttle,” said Hiven-Tar, tapping the screen. “I believe there are signs of fracturing on the rock from where they landed a craft too heavy for the ground.” He indicated another area nearby. “This is the entrance.”
The Cataclysm was near enough to produce an image of razor-sharp clarity, but the entrance looked like nothing more than an imperfection in the ground.
“They hid it well,” said Blake.
“They had no choice,” replied Hiven-Tar.
“How did they build this facility?” asked Conway. “There are no signs of excavation.”
“Geological remodelling when the construction was complete,” said Ran-Lor. “Or perhaps they tunnelled in from a more suitable location a thousand kilometres away.”
The casual answer was a reminder of exactly how advanced the Estral had once been. There were few obstacles they couldn’t overcome.
“How the hell did they lose to the Vraxar?” said Dunbar.
“We’ve seen only a fraction of what the enemy have to offer,” said Blake. “We’ve destroyed everything in Confederation Space, but it’s certain the majority of the Vraxar forces were left here to mop up the Estral.”
“Forty years’ travel away,” said Conway.
Decker had the clearance to find out the truth. “We’ve learned of at least three ways the Vraxar can cross such a distance, Lieutenant. They’ll try it again.”
“Ran-Lor, will you be able to operate the equipment in the facility below?” asked Blake.
“More than likely. I would suggest Hiven-Tar and Raxil-Ven are more capable.”
“Very well, make arrangements.”
Blake opened a channel to McKinney.
“Get suited up and ready for deployment, Lieutenant.”
“Yes, sir. What’s our objective?”
“There’s an Estral relay station on the surface of a planet. There’s no sign of the Aranol or the Ulterior-2 and it’s possible the base below us has a record of their departure.”
“Are we expecting hostiles?”
Blake glanced towards Ran-Lor. The Ghast simply shrugged.
“We don’t know. The relay station may be fully automated, or its crew might have died thirty years ago. Equally, it might be full of Estral troops with itchy trigger fingers.”
“We’ll be ready, sir. I don’t think Corporal Bannerman knows how to operate an Estral comms station.”
“He won’t have to. You’ll have some Ghasts with you.”
“That’s fine with me, sir. We’ve been getting along great so far.”
“I’m sure you have. There are only two shuttles on the Cataclysm. Let me know when you’re in the first.”
That was the extent of the organisation. It was the sort of mission Blake would have enjoyed were there not so much at stake - he felt he worked better when he was required to plan instinctively.
Hiven-Tar exited the bridge and Blake paced nervously. It was McKinney and the others who were taking the risks this time, but Blake couldn’t help but feel directly involved. He checked the bridge clock and discovered only five minutes had elapsed since he’d given the order for deployment.
After an interminable wait, McKinney reported in. “We’re in Shuttle One and awaiting orders, sir.”
“I’m opening the bay doors, Lieutenant. The little information we know is downloaded into your visors. Don’t hang around.”
“I won’t, sir.”
“The shuttle is exiting our bay,” said Ran-Lor, a couple of minutes later.
The Cataclysm was carrying two of the Space Corps’ newest, most-heavily armed shuttles and the first of them dropped into the highest reaches of Folsgar’s atmosphere and sped away towards the surface.
Chapter Seven
Shuttle One might have been new, but it wasn’t luxurious. Lieutenant Eric McKinney sat in a seat which looked as though it had been ripped clean out of a gravity-engined taxi and there was a sticky brown substance on the floor which Sergeant Li peered at suspiciously. Li was an excellent soldier, yet he could be incredibly fastidious where dirt and grime were concerned.
Aside from the low-rent interior, the shuttle hummed smoothly towards Folsgar. It was equipped with front and rear chainguns and thick armour plating, neither of which McKinney wished to test in the near future.
The third seat was occupied by Raxil-Ven. There were another three of the aliens sitting out back and McKinney could hear them trading good-natured insults with the squad. The Ghasts didn’t seem bothered by anything, a trait which the men did their unsuccessful best to exploit.
“What do you expect to find in this Estral facility?” asked McKinney.
Raxil-Ven turned his head. The Ghast was dressed in a sandy-yellow spacesuit which appeared to be constructed of a material that was part metal and part cloth. A Ghast-sized helmet was on the floor next to his seat. The helmet was a solid-looking metal object with a flat, clear faceplate and information panels packed inside. It was peculiarly archaic in appearance, yet McKinney couldn’t help but think it probably contained a lot more computational power than the Space Corps’ equivalent.
“I believe this relay station is likely to be automated.”
“Does that mean there’ll be no maintenance crew?”
“I would not like to speculate. It is a possibility.”
“If there are Estral will they be hostile to humans and Ghasts alike?”
Raxil-Ven gave a wide grin. “They are unlikely to recognize us as Ghasts.”
“What the lieutenant is asking is will they shoot or will they talk?” said Li.
“I imagine they might do one or the other.”
“Has anyone ever taught you Ghasts how to give a straight answer?” asked Li. “I charge by the hour if you want lessons.”
“You are a very funny man, Sergeant Li. I like you.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
McKinney brought the shuttle lower and kept it under manual control. It was significantly faster than any other transport he’d piloted and its autopilot nagged him continuously to hand over control. He ignored its complaints and guided the craft into the far end of the valley in which the Estral facility was situated.
“Eight klicks to go,” reported Li.
The valley was wide and there was no danger of an impact against its sides. The ES Cataclysm’s sensors had picked up no sign of defences, but McKinney preferred to come in low regardless. A short while later, the navigational computer highlighted an area ahead.
“That’s the place,” said McKinney. Grudgingly, he activated the autopilot, so he could get on with the preparations to deploy. He poked his head through the open doorway into the passenger bay beyond. It was brighter here and he squinted. “Grab your things. We’ll land in less than two minutes.”
The passenger bay held seating for fifty, and the shuttle came equipped with internal gravity clamps to allow it to carry heavy loads, such as artillery. There was a repeater already fixed to the end of the bay and its multiple barrels swayed slightly with the movement of the shuttle.
The bay wasn’t close to full. McKinney’s usual squad were reduced to fourteen, plus there were four Ghasts. The human soldiers pulled their suit visors down, whilst the Ghasts fitted their helmets into place with hisses of tightening seals.
Most of the human squad carried plasma repeaters in addition to their gauss rifles. Two of the Ghasts had their own – much larger - repeaters, whilst the remaining two carried long tubes with protruding triggers. These guns had been the cause of much curiosity in the squad, since they were nearly the same size as a plasma launcher. It turned out they were a wide-bore version of a gauss rifle. They looked cumbersome, but the Ghasts carried them with ease.
“Landing, landing,” said the androgynous voice of the shuttle’s autopilot.
The squad gathered near the flank exit door. A red light glowed to one side and McKinney tapped his foot as he waited for it to turn green.
The shuttle’s autopilot set the craft down so neatly that McKinney was startled when the light changed. He stepped forward and activated the door. The side of the shuttle swung outwards without a sound until it was resting on the ground.
The voice of Ran-Lor on the Cataclysm’s bridge came through McKinney’s earpiece.
“There are no threats detected in the vicinity. You are free to deploy.”
“Out!” said McKinney.
He was first onto the ramp. It was daytime on Folsgar and the light from its sun illuminated the rocks and turned them into an over-bright yellow. The sensor in McKinney’s visor adjusted, cutting out the glare and protecting his eyes.
The side wall of the valley climbed steeply away for three or four kilometres. It was bare rock, covered in wind-blown dust and with many loose boulders, some of them balanced precariously. The rocks cast gnarled and unpleasant shadows which seemed to shimmer in the steady breeze.
“Minus twenty outside,” said Sergeant Demarco. “Don’t take your coats off.”
McKinney reached the end of the ramp and took his first step onto the surface of Folsgar. There was no ice and little in the way of wind. It was the sort of remote, peaceful place a man craving solitude might come to live out his final days.
He turned his head until his saw the antenna. The map overlay in his HUD traced a red line to their destination nearby.
“Three hundred metres over there,” he said on the squad open channel. “Let’s move.”
With the ES Cataclysm watching overhead, McKinney felt more reassured than he might have otherwise. Nevertheless, he kept his gauss rifle ready and scanned the ground ahead and to the sides. The antenna was nothing out of the ordinary – just a thick metal pole, dull and near-black. His suit HUD suggested it may contain a quantity of Obsidiar, with the rest being an unknown substance. The entrance was fifty metres to the right of the antenna. The doorway was ingeniously incorporated into a natural outcrop in the stone and it took McKinney a few seconds to distinguish the outline of the door itself from the surroundings.
The dust crunched softly underfoot as the squad made their way cautiously towards the entrance. McKinney stopped at the door – it was three metres high and two wide, making it big enough for an Estral to walk through without knocking its head.
“Are you going to use the number cruncher, Lieutenant?” asked Sergeant Li.
Li’s words reminded McKinney of the weight he was carrying. This was a different model to the one he’d lugged through the middle of Ix-Gastiol and it wasn’t any lighter. If anything, it felt as though it weighed twenty pounds more.
