The Epherium Chronicles: Echoes (10 page)

Seconds later, McGregor could make out a huge shape hidden in the shadows of the tree line. It roared again, louder and more powerful this time. It rushed to the base of one of the smaller trees and delivered a powerful strike. The hearty wood splintered like kindling, sending the majestic giant falling to the east. The shadow leaped over the fallen tree and into the sunlight.

The beast was huge, standing close to twenty meters tall. Its body was covered in ivory-colored scales that resembled bone, including a curved scale that was akin to a mask covering its face. Eyes white with rage beamed behind it. Dark black hair, mixed with gray, protruded from between the scales and flowed from its head and down its back. The beast extended its long clawed hands and snarled at the Marines, exposing a set of sharp, yellow teeth.

“That’s a huge beasty,” McGregor uttered and looked down the line of his Marines. “Hold your fire! Don’t provoke it.” He crouched and made his way behind each APC, ensuring they heard his orders. His eyes never left the creature while he walked. In turn, it watched him.

Voices called out to him from his left. Three colonists were rushing toward the Marines, waving their arms in a wild motion
. Bloody fools. They’re going to get themselves killed.

He tapped four Marines and pointed to the colonists. Still crouched, the Marines crept down the hill toward the colony with weapons trained on the beast. The Marines didn’t make it far before the creature noticed them. No longer trying to be stealthy, the quartet stood and continued to approach the colonists. Their boldness triggered another roar. This time the beast moved toward the Marine position. Two slow steps turned into a jog. With its long strides, it would be on them in seconds.

A thunderous boom filled the air around the Marines as one of the APC’s pulse cannons opened fire on the beast. Two blasts struck it in the left shoulder, spinning it around. More of the Marines joined in, and a chorus of rifles unleashed round after round.

Bullets bounced off the ivory scales. With a fearsome howl, the creature regained its balance from the cannon strike to its shoulder and whirled to face its aggressor. Two of the scales were cracked, and dark red blood oozed over them. It roared at the Marines again, but gave ground. Two more pulse cannon blasts struck it in the thigh and in the chest. The beast tumbled to the ground, but hopped up quickly and bolted for the tree line.

“Hold your fire!” McGregor called out.

The bursts of gunfire ceased and the beast, in full flight, disappeared into the shadows of the forest. Wounded animals were often more dangerous and unpredictable. There had been cunning and malice in its eyes. He directed two squads to create a tight perimeter around the shuttles and issued scanners to each team leader. If it came back, they’d be ready.

Satisfied the situation was under control, McGregor focused his attention on the colonists his Marines were now escorting. The two men appeared much older than their female counterpart, but after the sprint across the clearing to the Marines’ position, all of their breathing was heavy and labored. They were still breathing, and that was only good thing going for them.

He stomped over to the trio. “Are ya three daft? Didn’t you see that monster? You could’ve been killed.”

One of the men stepped forward and offered a stern salute. “Actually, Major, we came out here to stop it from attacking you.”

McGregor didn’t like the man’s tone, but he recognized him. He’d studied the files of the
Cabot’s
crew. Despite the bald head and gray hair, he could see the resemblance to the colony ship’s captain in the older man’s features.

“Commander Arthur Grange, Major,” the older man said, a bit more relaxed, but he still held his salute. It was almost a greeting. He gestured to the others with him. “This is Dr. Emma Gracen, my chief biologist, and Martin Pile, our security team leader. We’re glad you’re here.”

McGregor snapped a salute of his own. “I’m Major Arlen McGregor, 4th
EDF
Expeditionary Combat Regiment.” He gauged all the three of the colonists. “Would somebody explain what the hell is going on down here?”

Another roar echoed in the distance, and everyone near the shuttles turned their heads in its direction. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed several of his nervous Marines fingering their weapons.

“Why don’t we head to our camp?” Grange offered. “My people are excited that travelers from Earth have finally made it here.” He gestured toward the shuttles. “If you’re worried about these, we’ve built a reinforced storage area for our rovers. It’s outside of our fence and might be a tight squeeze, but it’ll be safer than leaving them out here.”

Grange’s recommendation wasn’t ideal, but based on the circumstances, McGregor saw little alternative. The security of the
Cabot’s
perimeter was a better place for his Marines, and he could complete their mission faster. “Very well, Commander. You ride with me and show us where to park. Lieutenant Searcy and the rest of my Marines will accompany your people back to the
Cabot.
”

Chapter Eleven

The ride in the elevator lift to the lower decks of the
Armstrong
didn’t take long, but Hood paced the entire trip. The image of the ferocious-looking beast provided to him in McGregor’s initial report would have given him nightmares as a child. He could only imagine what it would have been like to see it up close. He was glad there weren’t any casualties, but it could have been much worse.

The details on the colonists’ camp were sparse. It was early. He had to be patient. This planet was much more like Earth than Cygni 4. That kind of promise would do well back home. Securing the colony first was paramount, and McGregor would be thorough.

But McGregor’s report mentioned more than just one of those huge beasts. One of the
Cabot
’s early rover patrols had encountered a community of them deep in the forest. The same beast, much larger than its kin, had warned them off. According to Grange, it was an alpha male and extremely territorial. The long pass over the forest by McGregor’s shuttles must have angered it.

Hood knew Arthur Grange. The man was a great leader and inspired people. Along with his uncle, Grange was part of the driving force for Hood to join the
EEF
academy. If Grange felt compelled to run out and his risk own life to save the Marines, he would. There wouldn’t be any hesitation.

But if these beasts weren’t dangerous, then why the protective barrier? What other dangers awaited them on the surface? On Cygni, Hood had been afforded enough time to make sure his uncle was the same person he’d known before the
Magellan
had left Earth. Epherium’s Embrace units hadn’t changed the man he remembered. Here at Tau Ceti, things were already different. If the Embrace units had failed and rapid cell degeneration was beginning, could he trust Grange’s judgment?

McGregor needed backup regardless. Before he left the Command Deck, Hood put more of the Marines on board on active standby and ordered Delta Squadron on low orbit patrol. The Marines would take time to reach the surface, but the Raptor fighter/bombers of Delta Squadron could deliver powerful close-range support in a few minutes.

To Hood’s dismay, the colonists were just a piece of the overall problem. The formula for securing the planet involved the Cilik’ti, as well. Right now, there were too many variables. He needed a sound constant to help solve the mystery of the equation. Now, he hoped he had it. A few minutes after receiving McGregor’s report, Lieutenant Wells had informed him that Kree was conscious. If Kree could give him even a minute explanation for the destruction of the Qu’tan vessel, Hood might actually get a couple of hours of restful sleep. It was a long shot, but he had to hope for a brighter side to the past twenty-four hours.

He exited the elevator lift and noticed a familiar face waiting for him just outside Kree’s quarters. It was Jillian Howard. He knew she’d stood watch over Kree since she’d woken up that morning. She looked tired and her eyes were heavy with worry. “How is he?” he asked.

She shook her head. “It’s hard to tell. I was about to go back to my quarters when he sprang back to consciousness.” She opened the door and disappeared inside. Hood followed her. He couldn’t see his hand in front of his face. He started to call for the lights, but Jillian stopped him. “Don’t. The lights agitate him.” She grabbed his hand and activated a small palm light. Together they walked to rear of the room.

Hood noticed another glow as they approached. It was Kree’s translator device. The light it provided was a dull green, almost phosphorescent, and it pulsed. He could hear the monotonic voice emanating from it.

“The stars...twinkling bright with rays of beauty. Fire burns them down. All is lost.” Kree’s words didn’t make any sense to Hood, nor did what he saw next. Jillian angled her light just enough to cast a light glow upon the Cilik’ti. Kree’s legs were sprawled out on the floor, his upper torso resting against the wall. He wasn’t sure if it was the light, but Kree looked pale.

“He’s been rambling like this since he woke up,” Jillian said as she kneeled beside the alien. She caressed his head with her left hand. “Kree, Captain Hood is here to talk to you. Can you tell him what happened?”

Kree made no movement or recognition at all of Hood’s presence. “The lights are here and darkness follows. It whispers with tongues of fire. Its thirst cannot be quenched.”

Jillian peered up at Hood and frowned. Not wanting to give up, he joined her at Kree’s side. “Kree, I need you to focus. What happened with the Qu’tan?” He gazed into the faceted eyes on the alien’s face. “What happened to you?”

“Whispers in the mind,” the translator voiced. “Echoes in the dark like droplets in a lightless ocean forever consumed by shadow. Lies! This one must not listen, for all can hear their sound.” Kree’s body twitched, and Hood and Jillian both jumped back. “The lights return and darkens follows.”

Hood rubbed his temple in frustration. Whatever had happened to the Qu’tan had caused a severe mental break in Kree. There wasn’t anyone on board capable of understanding Cilik’ti mental illness. Dr. Patton understood their biology, but Hood doubted the man could unravel the cause behind this without lengthy study—let alone offer a cure. He needed answers now, not in two weeks.

He patted Jillian’s hand in resignation, but as he stood, Kree straightened. The alien gathered its legs underneath its body and twisted its head to stare in silence at the wall to Hood’s left. Hood followed his stare, but saw nothing but the metal wall.

The translator globe’s color changed to a deep red. “The Chi’tan are here, Captain Hood.”

Alarm sped through Hood’s body as fast as his nerves could carry it.

“They have come for this one,” Kree stated then panned his head toward Hood. His three pairs of red facets reflected the light of Jillian’s lamp like brilliant jewels. “And for you.”

Warning klaxons blared, and Hood heard Sanchez’s voice over the shipwide comm, calling the
Armstrong
to General Quarters. Leaving Jillian with Kree, he bolted for the exit and slipped through the doors when they began to open.

* * *

On the Command Deck of the
Armstrong
, Hood found his crew hard at work. He stopped at the Tactical Station. He noticed a single new contact resonating from the ship’s scans on her terminal screen. “Aldridge, what’s out there?”

She enhanced the image. “One ship, sir. She appeared just outside the planet’s gravity well and is on intercept course. Best configuration match is a Cilik’ti cruiser, but larger and highly modified. It’s hard to get good readings on it.”

“It’s the Chi’tan,” Hood said with a snarl in his voice.

“How can you be sure it’s not the Qu’tan?”

“Kree sensed them. He believes they’ve come for both of us.” The incredulous look on Aldridge’s face looked familiar. It was the same one on Jillian’s face before he’d left Kree’s quarters.

Aldridge’s terminal beeped. “They’re deploying drones. I have fighters only, but there are several assault craft behind them.”

Hood approached the Command Station. “Are they headed toward the planet?”

She checked again. “Negative. All craft are still on intercept with us.”

He expected the Chi’tan to force him to protect the planet, not come right at him, and with only one ship. The Chi’tan’s tactics didn’t add up and it worried him. He had a feeling the next hammer stroke would come soon.
But from where?
“Aldridge, alter our scanners and the planetary grid to saturate any possible hiding spot near the second or fourth planets for an enemy ship. They may have had one here already hiding in the poles.” He knew it was a long shot, but he needed to shake the sensation that he was missing something. “Have our gunships move to defense pattern beta, and get me a targeting solution on that cruiser.”

Aldridge set to work, and Hood turned his attention to Wells. “Lieutenant, inform Major McGregor of our situation and put the colony on alert. I don’t know what defenses they have down there, but have them take cover. Oh, and get me Mr. Whitaker. I want that shield ready to—”

Power throughout the Command Deck faded and came back to normal again.

“What the hell was that?” Sanchez blurted out and checked his terminal screen. “Captain, reactor power levels are at forty percent and still dropping.”

“Sir, I’ve got Engineering on comms,” Wells said as she transferred the call to Hood’s station.

Hood glanced quickly at the power readouts on Sanchez’s terminal. Now was not the time for his chief engineer’s equipment upgrade malfunctions. “Talk to me, Mr. Whitaker.”

The former Epherium design engineer’s face was covered in grime and he fought to catch his breath. “Captain, all the reactors experienced a weird instability. Energy focused by the pidium spiked. I had to bring them down or we would’ve lost them and over half the ship.”

On his peripheral, Hood could see the approaching drone fighters. “How long before you can get us back to full power?”

“I have no idea.” A coolant pipe ruptured above Whitaker, and he directed one of his team to seal it. “It looks like the levels are stable at thirty percent, but any heavy load could spike an overload.”

“What can you give me?”

“Limited weapons and propulsion, but the shield is out of commission.” Whitaker shifted to his right and came back to his terminal. “The particle cannon completed its charge. You’ve got one shot, sir. Better make it count.”

“Just get me my power back so I can clean up after I take it. Hood out.” Frustration made his face flush. He loved a challenge, but this battle was starting out with one hand strapped behind his back and his shoelaces tied together. “Helm, execute a broadside turn to port then hold our position.” Even handicapped, the
Armstrong
had plenty of punch left, but multiple reloads of the rail guns would put a heavy drain on the weakened reactors. If he could space out his fire among the larger number of guns along his starboard, there was a better chance of dealing a decisive blow. Besides, with that many drones out there, he needed to divert more of their limited power to the pulse cannons.

“Captain, our sensors have picked up a low-power energy wave coming from the Cilik’ti vessel,” Aldridge said.

“What kind of wave?”

“Unknown. It doesn’t register with any known signature, but it’s focused on us. I’m trying to isolate the source on the cruiser, but the energy is interfering.”

Whatever it was, it had to be the cause of their issues with the reactors. Hood was certain of it. “Launch all remaining fighters and change targeting for the rail guns to those assault craft.”

“Sir?” Hood detected the respective challenge in his Tactical Officer’s voice. He understood her concern, but the cruiser wasn’t the immediate threat. Kree said the Chi’tan were coming for both of them. The assault craft weren’t going to the planet. Their intent was to capture their prey on the
Armstrong
.

“Change the targeting, Lieutenant,” Hood repeated. His terminal beeped. It was his preset targeting range alarm. “Here they come.”

Hundreds of Cilik’ti drone fighters surged forward and were met by a hailstorm of fire from the
Armstrong’s
gunship escorts. Bright lights of explosions and plasma flares filled Hood’s terminal screen like fireflies on a clear night. Two of the starboard main battery rail guns opened fire on the approaching assault craft. One of the small ships took a direct hit and disappeared in a cloud of splintered metal and ignited atmosphere.

The
Armstrong’s
fighters entered into the fray and strafed several of the drones pressing the gunships. Hood took notice of the new signals entering the battle. Phantom Squadron. But he only counted half the squadron. “Aldridge, I ordered all remaining fighters to launch. Where are the rest of the Phantoms?”

Hood heard the grumble from his frustrated Tactical Officer. “Sir, docking bays report all fighters have launched, and my system registers all squadron transponders in flight.” Her terminal beeped another loud warning. “Enemy drones are pressing past the gunships.”

The pulse cannons were about to engage and a sustained battle would strain the reactors for sure. Hood zoomed in on the approaching drone fighters. The signals of Phantom squadron angled in to intercept. Only six icons of the Phantoms were visible, but he looked closer. Each fighter had two transponder signals, one masked behind the first.

The Phantoms engaged the drones with brutal efficiency, tearing their numbers down by well over half in the first pass. Hood switched the view on to the screen above the Command Station. Each pair of fighters veered off in different vectors that denied the drones a clear counter attack. While the drones were still in chaos, the Phantoms executed steep banks in perfect sync and finished off the drones in a deadly cross fire.

“I’ve never seen piloting like that before,” Sanchez said, in awe at what many on the Command Deck had just witnessed.

Hood shook his head. Tight formations were common in practice and stunt flying, but in combat where situations were fluid, they were the first to be cast aside. “Lieutenant Commander Greywalker said he created an elite squadron beyond all current
EDF
standards.” He smiled at Sanchez. “I think he’s on to something.”

More drones pressed forward and shielded several of the Cilik’ti assault craft. The
Armstrong’s
pulse cannons opened fire on the approaching ships, thinning their number and scoring several hits on the assault craft. The surviving ships accelerated, and small clouds formed around them. Air locks on the assault crafts had opened, emptying atmosphere into space. Huge numbers of Cilik’ti warriors followed and clung to their craft’s hull, hoping to use its velocity to guide them to their target.

Hood rose to his feet in response to the ominous visage. Pulse cannon fire increased, but when an assault craft took a hit, the warriors jumped free of their mother vessel and continued on. Sanchez joined him, eyes glued to the images above them. “Prepare to repel boarders.”

* * *

Utilizing his MACE’s powerful optic suit for his sniper rifle, Priest tracked the first group of five Cilik’ti warriors as they reached the external hull of the
Armstrong.
The warriors landed just aft of the base of the huge particle cannon and used magnetic systems in their powered armor to attach.
Two of the warriors skittered forward along the hull toward the nearest air lock, while the other three provided cover with their pulse lances. The first warrior to reach the air lock activated his own lance and pointed it at the armored door protecting the entrance.