Into the Darkness: Crimson Worlds Refugees I (16 page)

BOOK: Into the Darkness: Crimson Worlds Refugees I
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Compton looked back. “But the risk. It’s just too great.”

“You have fought hopeless battles before, Admiral,” Ana said softly. “And you have won despite seemingly impossible odds. And Admiral Garret has too. Is this so different? Hieronymus and I fight on a different field, but we seek the same goal…to save the fleet. So ask yourself truly, do we really have a chance simply running? I think not, and I don’t believe you feel any differently. Even if we can refuel, and find food and replace spare parts and avoid dissension in the fleet, how can we hope to evade pursuit indefinitely? Your decision not to risk leading the enemy back to Earth means our course is away…and deeper into the First Imperium. Into the heart of the enemy. Is it not better to risk all now, to strive for something that might actually make a difference? Something that could one day allow us to defeat the enemy…or at least stop them from attacking us?”

Compton sighed. “I understand your words, Ana, and you are not wrong. Our chances of surviving indefinitely are very small. But are they greater if I allow you to do this? Death tomorrow is always preferable than death today. Each day the fleet survives is a chance that something might happen to change the situation. And even if your efforts are successful, we still face the need to develop a delivery system to truly deploy the system.”

Compton paused, looking back into Ana’s blue eyes.
These are two of the smartest people in the fleet
, he thought.
And you saw what they accomplished so far. Do you trust to their genius? Do you stake 50,000 lives on the chance to completely change this war?

Finally, he sighed hard and said, “You realize how much trust you are asking me to place on your caution and your skill, don’t you Hieronymus? I applaud your work to date, and I whole-heartedly support your research…but if you do anything on that ship that reactivates it under First Imperium control, the results could be catastrophic.”

“I understand that, Admiral. I can promise you I will exert the utmost care…and I will take no actions to reactivate any system without your specific approval. But this is an unmatched opportunity to leap ahead on this project. I had not anticipated moving so quickly, but fortune has given us an opportunity, one I firmly believe we can exploit. Much of our recent work has been focused on trying to rebuild a damaged battlefield command unit using spare parts gleaned from other specimens. It has not been going well.” He looked up at Compton, an odd expression on his face. “I’m sure it is no surprise that our Marines don’t seem to leave much behind them in working order when they win a battle.”

“No,” Compton said with a very brief grin. “That is not surprising at all. But still…an enemy warship? One of their biggest? That is quite a leap from a battle bot, wouldn’t you say?”

“I would, sir. But it is also what we need. Back home, in a laboratory I would advocate moving slowly, cautiously. But our situation is hardly typical. We are trapped in enemy space, pursued…and you and I both know they will find us eventually. We must do something, whatever we can. And finding this ship is an extraordinary stroke of luck. At least let me go look around and do some research. Then I will report back, and you can decide if it is worth the risk to proceed.”

Compton turned and took a few steps across the room, staring down at the floor as he did. Finally, he turned around and stared directly at Cutter. “Okay, Hieronymus…I will bet on you. The two of you be ready to leave in two hours. You may assemble any personnel you require and requisition any supplies. If you are going to do this, take whatever you need to succeed. This is no time for half measures. I will authorize anything you request.”

“Thank you, Admiral,” Cutter said, a touch of surprise in his voice.

“Yes, Admiral, thank you,” Ana said, smiling. “We will not let you down.”

“See that you don’t,” he said softly. Because it’s not only me. I just put the lives of almost 50,000 of your fellow crews in your hands.”

 

Chapter Nine

Command Unit Gamma 9736

Everything was moving smoothly. The response from the Guardian Worlds was below expectations, perhaps, but nevertheless, ships were on the move. Fleets were gathering. Soon they would be sent on their mission. To destroy the humans.

There were fewer vessels than projected. Many of the worlds commanded by the Unit were silent, unresponsive…they had succumbed to the relentless decay of time. Still, the Unit commanded ample strength to eradicate the invaders. The humans had ceased their flight, driven by the need to produce fuel for their ship’s reactors. They were primitive, a fugitive fleet far from their bases and industrial centers. It would take time for them to refuel. Enough time for the attack force to arrive…and obliterate them.

The Regent’s command had been clear, and the Unit was compelled to obey. But its own computations were flawed. It did not perceive the same threat the Regent saw. The humans were weak, their technology crude. It seemed unlikely they could threaten the imperium. The Unit had not reached the same conclusion as the Regent. Its algorithms told it the Old Ones would have attempted to communicate with the humans, that they would have put great effort into avoiding war. But the Regent was infallible. Therefore, the error had to be within the Unit’s own processing routines. It would conduct a full systems check, find the malfunction. Until that was complete it would follow the Regent’s orders. That was the primary directive.

It would destroy the humans as ordered. But there was no satisfaction in such a pursuit. Indeed, the Unit felt somehow…wrong.

AS Midway

System X18

Orbiting Planet IV

The Fleet:  225 ships, 47,909 crew

“Are your people ready, Colonel?” Compton stood in the bay, looking out at a sea of Marines climbing into the powered armor units hung neatly on racks along the walls. On the far side of the bay a small detachment, already fully armored, was marching toward the first row of assault shuttles. They were the vanguard, a hand-picked team, and they would be the first humans to set foot on a major First Imperium world.

Men had explored Epsilon Eridani IV, but that planet was little more than a massive antimatter production facility. And Sigma-4 had been a small outpost with a military base attached. But X18 IV was dotted with the ruins of massive cites. Millions had once lived there…indeed, billions.

The landing craft were lined up on a track, stretching back from the closed bay doors. Each one held a full platoon. The insides were spare and crowded, but dropping in one of the small armored ships was still a hell of a lot more comfortable than going down in the Gordon landers the Marines would have used in an opposed assault.

Compton had assembled a large research team to land on planet four and explore the First Imperium ruins. There was time while the fleet was slowly refueled, and it was a learning opportunity he couldn’t pass up. If his people were to survive they had to understand their enemy as well as they could. He’d ordered Colonel Preston to land a large force of his Marines to assist the researchers and to and provide security. The scanners had detected no activity, no artificially generated power at all, but Compton wasn’t going to take any chances.

The whole landing was an unnecessary risk, at least considered from a purely military perspective. Still, he figured anything they could learn about their enemy was useful, and passing up the chance to get the first close look at what had been a major world of the First Imperium would be a waste he couldn’t condone.

“We will be ready for launch at 0900, precisely as you commanded, sir.” James Preston had been about to climb into his own armor when Compton walked into the bay. The colonel stood at perfect attention before the fleet admiral, ignoring the fact that he was completely naked.

“Very well, Colonel. Don’t let me interfere. I see you were about to suit up.”

“Yes, sir,” Preston responded.

“I just wanted to let you know I’ll be coming down myself.
Midway
is well back in the refueling queue, and it appears that I have some time available. And if we are going to successfully navigate our way through First Imperium space, the more we can learn about them—the more
I
can learn—the better chance I have to make the correct choices.”

“Yes, Admiral.” Preston’s response was sharp and immediate. But despite the Marine officer’s iron discipline, Compton could see the idea horrified him. “I will organize a bodyguard company to accompany you, sir.”

“You will do no such thing. I can’t stay down there long, and I want to see as much as possible in the time I have. And I won’t be able to do that with a hundred Marines crowding everywhere I step.” He paused then continued, “Two guards will suffice, Colonel.”

Preston looked like he was going to argue, but Compton cut him off. “I appreciate your concern, Colonel, but as I said, two guards will be perfectly satisfactory.” His tone was still pleasant, but it also communicated that the debate about bodyguards was over.

“Very well, sir.”

Compton could see the veteran Marine wasn’t happy, but he also knew the stubborn leatherneck would obey his orders to the letter. “I will go down in one of the shuttles with the research team.”

Preston looked uncomfortable, but he didn’t say anything. He just stared forward, averting Compton’s gaze.

“What is it, Colonel?”

“Nothing sir. As you command.”

“Okay, Colonel Preston. Spill it.”

“Well, sir, I’d really feel better if you landed with us. Our shuttles are better protected…and I could requisition you one of the modular armor units. It might be a little harder to maneuver in than a custom-fitted suit, but at least you’d have some protection between you and something unexpected. I’d really be a lot happier with you in armor than a survival suit.”

Compton paused for a few seconds then he nodded grudgingly. He thought it was overkill, but he figured it wouldn’t hurt to take some precautions. Besides, going down with the Marines would give him a chance to let them know how much he appreciated them. The ground pounders always got restless when they were cooped up on ships for too long. Indeed, that was another reason he was landing so many of Preston’s people. Compton didn’t expect a battle down on the planet, but at least his Marines would get to stretch their legs a bit.

“Very well, Colonel. I would be honored to land with your Marines. If you’d be kind enough to direct me to a suit of armor, I will get ready.”

“Right this way, Admiral,” Preston said, reaching toward his shelf and grabbing his trousers. “We’ll get you all set up and ready to go.”

Compton follow the Marine, impressed by the physical dexterity that allowed Preston to somehow hop into his pants without losing a step. The admiral had been in armor before, then as now to satisfy his overly protective Marines, though at least the previous time he had landed on an actual battlefield.

He wondered if the Marines even remembered how uncomfortable powered armor was for those less used to it than they. Compton recalled feeling claustrophobic, but he had to admit that, once the reactor kicked in, moving around in the suit had been less difficult than he’d expected.

“Here we are, sir.” Preston stopped and gestured toward a suit of armor hanging on a wall rack. To Compton’s eyes it looked the same as the others, but he knew it wasn’t. It was more of a “one size fits all” type of thing, intended for situations just like this one. He doubted he would be able to tell the difference, but he knew a veteran Marine wore his suit like an extension of himself.

“Sergeant,” Preston yelled to a non-com wearing a set of maintenance coveralls.

The Marine turned and rushed over, snapping to attention. “Sir!”

“The admiral is landing with us, Sergeant. Help him into his armor, and run a full diagnostic check on the suit.”

“Yes, sir.” The Marine turned and looked nervously at Compton. Addressing fleet admirals was above his pay grade. “If you will give me just a minute, Admiral, I will prep the suit for you.”

Compton nodded. “That will be fine, Sergeant.” He turned back toward Preston. “I think I’ll be alright in the sergeant’s hands, Colonel. You can go suit up and see to your operation.”

“Very well, sir.” Preston saluted. “I will have you assigned to my shuttle. We’re about midway through the launch schedule, so that’s about 0920.” The Marine stood stone still at attention for another few seconds, and he turned and walked swiftly back across the bay.

 

*  *  *

 

Compton stood still, his eyes fixed in awe on the city stretching out in front of him. It was a ruin, old beyond understanding, broken bits of ancient structures protruding through the encroaching sands. He had seen the remnants of Earth cities before, those built by the Greeks and Romans and other early civilizations. There was a vague familiarity, but that was a false comparison. The oldest city ruins on Earth were less than ten thousand years old. These structures were fifty times older…and yet many of the surfaces glinted in the sun, still bright after half a million years of storms and tectonic activity and relentless sunlight.

It was hard to tell from the ruins what the city had looked like, but Compton imagined a cluster of towers, gold and silver and metallic blue, rising kilometers into the bright sky. He felt almost as though the silent ruins were speaking to him, ghostly images appearing in his mind of a day when this metropolis had been home to millions. All of those soaring buildings had fallen ages ago, but somehow he felt he knew how they had appeared so long before, when the mysterious race that built them still dwelled there.

There were lines of debris reaching out from the city, the remains of some sort of train or monorail systems, he guessed. They led through the wilderness, and connected this metropolis to the other ruins that dotted the planet’s surface.

He stumbled forward, still adapting to the strength magnification of the fighting suit. The logistics sergeant had put it on the lowest setting, far below what the Marines used, but Compton had still almost knocked himself over half a dozen times.

BOOK: Into the Darkness: Crimson Worlds Refugees I
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