Asbaran Solutions (The Revelations Cycle Book 2) Read online

  Mason fired several times into the side of the alien, but the laser blasts didn’t appear to have any effect. The wolf leaned forward again, grabbed the soldier’s neck in its jaws and shook its head, snapping the soldier’s neck.

  Realizing the inadequacy of the laser rifle, Mason dropped it to its sling and drew his kirpan. He took a step, and then launched himself into the beast. Mason crashed into the alien, knocking it off its feet. The two slammed into the wall, and Mason drove the point of his weapon into the creature’s chest. The Besquith roared a bestial cry of pain, and Mason stabbed it again and again until the alien collapsed to the floor. Rising to a knee, Mason chopped down with the kirpan, severing the Besquith’s spine.

  Turning, he found the rest of the battle was far from over. Although two of the Besquith were dead above him on the stairs, one of the Besquith straddled private Jernigan, trying to bite him. The soldier had his rifle in both hands and was using it to hold off the bigger creature. As Mason started toward them, the Besquith bit down on the rifle, saliva dripping past it to splatter on Jernigan’s face mask, and then stood up, ripping the weapon from Jernigan’s hands. It turned its head and spit the rifle out into the central shaft, before turning back to bite Jernigan.

  Unable to defend himself, Jernigan jammed his arm crosswise as far in as he could reach, hoping his armor would be proof against the creature’s bite. It wasn’t, and the soldier screamed as the Besquith bit down on his arm, crushing the vambrace protecting his forearm.

  The alien threw the soldier’s arm out of the way and opened its mouth for the kill, but Mason dove into the Besquith from above and sent him over backwards. Mason grabbed onto the alien to protect himself from the fall, and he drove his head into the Besquith’s ribs as the two crashed into the wall. Mason could hear several bones break in the creature’s chest.

  Mason drew his kirpan again, but the Besquith threw him to the side, and Mason fell down the stairs, rolling to the next landing where he fell on top of Corporal Jennings. The soldier didn’t care; Jennings was slashed in a number of places and missing most of his right arm. If he wasn’t already dead, he soon would be.

  “Help!” a voice yelled from below him, and Mason rolled over to find Staff Sergeant Kirkland on top of the last Besquith. Somehow Turk had gotten behind the alien and had an arm around its throat. Choking it didn’t seem to be working, and the creature was slamming itself into the stairwell wall, trying to dislodge the human. Like a cowboy on a bull, Turk was just trying to hang on at that point. With a final slam, the Besquith broke Turk’s hold and ripped the human from his back.

  Before the creature could finish Turk, Mason dove into it, driving it backward down the stairs. The creature’s feet went out from under it and the three combatants rolled to a stop on the next landing. Mason ended up on top and tried to draw his kirpan, but found his right arm wouldn’t work. The large knife was mounted where it could be drawn with either hand, though, so he grabbed it with his left instead and began stabbing the alien.

  “That’s…good,” grunted Turk, his voice coming from far away. “Can’t…breathe.”

  Mason rolled off the alien and found Turk’s legs protruding from under the Besquith. Mason braced himself and pushed as hard as he could with his left hand. The creature rolled off Turk.

  “Thanks,” Turk said. “I couldn’t breathe.” His eyes widened, and something huge crashed into Mason from behind, knocking him down the stairs. He lost his balance and tried to curl himself into a ball to protect from any further damage, holding the kirpan away from him to keep from impaling himself. As he crashed into the stairs, the knife was ripped from his grasp.

  Mason bounced again, then hit hard on the next landing. Stunned, an enormous weight landed on him before he could get up. The alien had him pinned; Top couldn’t move and was too tired and sore from fighting and falling down the stairs to shift the alien off of him.

  While Mason waited for the alien to kill him, he also realized how bad they smelled.

  After what seemed like an eternity, the alien finally shifted, and Mason opened his eyes to find Turk offering him a hand up. Turk bent down and pulled the kirpan from where it had lodged in the Besquith’s neck. He wiped it off on the alien’s fur and passed it over.

  “Are we clear?” Mason asked.

  “Yeah. All five are dead, thanks to you.”

  “Have we heard from the other squad?”

  “I haven’t.”

  “Horsey, Top; what’s your status?”

  There was no reply.

  “Horsey, Top; I repeat, what’s your status?”

  “Top, this is Gemini. Horsey’s pretty fucked up. So are most of the rest of us that are still living. They hit us pretty hard. I can’t confirm, but I think one of them got away. We’ve got four hostiles down, along with most of the platoon.”

  “Damn it.” Mason changed to the command frequency. “Is anyone outside? It looks like one of the Besquith got away.”

  “My group is outside,” Breetar replied. “We had to leave the other hangar. It kind of fell down. Oops. I already shot the Besquith, and Zzeldar and her buddies finished it off. I hope you didn’t want to interrogate it…there isn’t much left.”

  “No, that’s fine. As long as it didn’t get away.”

  A new voice joined the conversation.

  “Hey Breetar, Nigel. If you are done with your objective, how about coming over to the frigate and giving us a hand? There’s more killing to be done over here.”

  “Really? We’re on our way.”

  Aboard the Alien Ship, Blood Drinkers’ Base, Bestald

  “Think we should split up?” Thunder whispered. “We might be more likely to find the bridge.”

  “We also might be more likely to get wiped out,” Corporal Epard replied. “You’ve only got one arm, and the boss is lame.”

  “Well, not totally lame,” Nigel replied, “but I’m not running a marathon any time soon. I agree; let’s stick together. I don’t suppose you know where you’re going, do you?”

  “Not exactly,” Epard replied. “I’ve been on a frigate before though, and if this is anything like it, I at least have a general idea.”

  “Great,” Nigel whispered. “You lead. I’ll bring up the rear.”

  “Maybe I should take that spot,” Thunder replied, “in case we get hit from the rear. I’ve got more experience.”

  “No, I want you in the middle so you can back up the corporal with your pistol if needed. Also, I have a rifle, so I can better defend the rear.” Thunder nodded, and Nigel smiled inwardly. He had made a combat decision that apparently made sense to the troops. Hopefully, it would be the first of many. And he’d be alive long enough to make them. “Let’s go!”

  Epard led the way, staying close to the port bulkhead. The corridor intersected with a major passageway; Epard eased around the corner then jumped back out of the way. “Three ants to the left,” she advised. “They’re coming this way.”

  “Grenade?” Nigel asked.

  “No,” Epard said. “Quick; back up!” She pushed Nigel and Thunder back a few paces and lined them up in a firing line across the passageway. “Make sure you see the third one before you shoot.”

  Within seconds the three Altar rounded the corner. “Fire!” Epard ordered.

  Epard’s pistol was deafening in the enclosed space as Nigel squeezed the trigger on his rifle. He aimed for the center of mass on the creature in front of him, and he hit the Altar in the upper thorax. When it didn’t fall, he shot it a second time, blasting chunks of exoskeleton from it and spraying its blue blood throughout the corridor. It collapsed to the floor.

  Nigel swung the rifle to the side, but the others were already both down. Epard’s had taken three pistol rounds in the head and most of its brains were on the passageway wall behind it; Thunder’s had two in the chest and one in the head.

  “We’re going to need to hurry,” Corporal Epard said, reloading her pistol.

  “Yeah, they probably heard yo
ur cannon all the way up on the bridge,” Thunder noted. “Wherever that is.”

  “Lead on,” Nigel said. “Fast as you can; I’ll try to keep up.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter Twenty

  Hanger Two, Blood Drinkers’ Base, Bestald

  “Damn,” Mason said under his breath. Second Platoon looked like doggie chew toys; they had literally been torn apart. All of them had claw and bite marks, and three of the First Squad troopers were missing limbs. Those three were dead, as were two other Second Squad members. The ones that were still alive weren’t in much better shape.

  Sergeant Bush was one of the fatalities, as was the jammer. It had fallen three stories and what was left was beyond repair.

  “Turk, I want you to take charge of this mess. Take what’s left of First Platoon and get everyone as stable as you can and back to the ship; we’re not leaving anyone behind. Especially not here. I’ll take Parker and Jernigan and go look for the unit’s records.”

  “What if you run into more of them?” Turk asked. “There’s only three of you, and they’re pretty tough up close.”

  “We already went by their main office, and I don’t think there are any more around. Get moving; we don’t have much time to get everyone back to the ship.” Turk nodded his acceptance and Top turned back toward the Blood Drinkers’ company offices. “Jernigan, Parker, you’re with me.”

  The trio returned to the offices they had passed on the way to Second Platoon without difficulty. Several doors lined both sides of the passageway; nearly all of them were askew from where they’d been kicked in when First Platoon had gone by earlier. Just like before, they were quiet and appeared unoccupied.

  “Where do we start, Top?” Private Parker asked.

  “I’m going to make a guess that the one with all the writing around it is where they kept their classified information.”

  “Can you read Besquith?” Private Jernigan asked.

  “Nope, but ‘Stay the hell out!’ looks pretty much the same, no matter where you go,” Mason replied. The indicated door had partially closed, and he pushed it open with the barrel of his rifle. The room was dim and quiet, and the trio advanced, rifles at the ready.

  “Nigel, you are going to need to hurry,” the Pendal pilot radioed over the common net. All three soldiers jumped at the unexpected, unnatural voice. “The local government wants to know what’s happening. I told them that we are trying to contain a potential weapon leak and to remain clear, but I don’t know how long they’re going to buy it. At some point, they are going to want to send cleanup crews to assess the damage.”

  “Understood,” Nigel replied. “We’re still working our way up to the bridge. The ship appears to be an Altar ship, and the damn ants are everywhere. They just started the motors and we’re trapped just shy of the bridge. It looks like we’re going to need a hand…and fast!”

  “All right,” Mason said; “you heard the man. It’s time to go. Grab all the drives and let’s get the hell out of here.”

  “Sorry, Top,” Private Parker said from the other side of the room, “but it looks like the Besquith took all the drives.” He pointed to a number of disassembled computer systems, all of which had holes where something had been removed from them.

  “Took them? Where the hell would they have taken them? The ones we fought definitely weren’t carrying anything when they hit us.”

  “Probably right here,” Private Jernigan replied, patting a 10-foot square black metal box in the back corner of the room. “Looks like they have a walk-in vault.”

  Mason strode over and looked at the front of the vault. A flashing light strobed across a lit keypad. “What the hell is this?” Mason asked, frustration tinging his voice. “How does this have power? It’s out everywhere else.”

  “It’s an Altar Systems 9100 model,” Jernigan replied. “It’s got an internal generator.”

  “An Altar what?” Mason asked. “How the hell do you know that?”

  “I had a…non-traditional…upbringing,” the private replied. “I wasn’t always the fine, upstanding citizen you see before you.”

  “Did your non-traditional upbringing teach you how to bust into one of these things?”

  “It did, and you can’t.” He tapped on the input screen and frowned. “Once it’s locked, it won’t open without the code; that’s why it has the internal power source. You need the 32-digit password, in the Besquith alphabet on this one, or you’re not getting into it.”

  “Can we blow it?”

  “I don’t know,” the private said, lost in thought. “We didn’t have enough to blow it…I mean, I think it would take an awful lot of explosives. You’d probably end up damaging whatever’s inside of it. Just a guess.”

  “Well, fuck,” Mason said. “We’ve got to get into the damn thing, or this whole damned assault has been for nothing.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you, Top,” Jernigan replied. “I don’t think we’re going to get it open. Not in the time we have left anyway.”

  “Damn it!” Mason exclaimed. All of his troopers dead for no reason? No. “There has to be a way to get it open.” He took two steps and looked out the window into the hangar four floor below. It was as empty as when they had come through it.

  “Sorry Top, there may be a way, but I don’t know what it is.”

  Mason shook his head in annoyance. An idea struck him, and he looked out the window again. A fleeting smile crossed his face. “Suppose it would survive a four-story fall?”

  “Hell if I know. I do know it’s heavier than the three of us can move, though.”

  “It looks like it is,” Mason said, “which is why I don’t think we’ll have to destabilize the floor very much for it to fall through on its own. What do you think?”

  Jernigan came to stand at the window. The safe was up against the back edge of the office space. If they blew the back wall out and some of the floor, the safe would fall to the hangar floor. “It’s worth a shot,” Jernigan agreed. “I don’t know if that will spring it, but it’s better than anything else I’ve got.”

  “I’ve got two grenades and a roll of det cord,” Mason said. “What have you guys got?”

  “Two grenades,” Private Parker replied.

  Jernigan smiled. “I’ve got four grenades and two sticks of C-12.”

  “What the hell were you planning to do with all that?” Mason asked.

  “What can I say?” Jernigan asked with a shrug. “I like blowing shit up.”

  “I take it you have the detonators for them, too?”

  “Wouldn’t be much good if I didn’t, would it?” Jernigan reached into a pocket and pulled out the needed accessories.

  “All right, let’s get this wired ASAP.”

  “Sure thing, Top. I’ve never seen a safe fly…this is going to be fun.”

  Aboard the Altar Ship, Blood Drinkers’ Base, Bestald

  “I think we’re at the bridge,” Shrewlet said as she looked around the corner before jumping back. Several shots went past.

  “How do you know?” Nigel asked.

  “Because they stopped retreating and are guarding an open doorway.” She ducked down and fired two shots around the corner, then her pistol locked open. She put in a new magazine and jacked in the first round. “I only have one more magazine after this one,” she said, “so I hope that’s where we’re going.”

  Nigel felt a small vibration through his boots and could hear a low rumble.

  “Damn it,” Corporal Epard said. “They’re starting the motors.”

  “We’ve got to get up there and stop them,” Nigel replied.

  “I’m trying,” she said, firing around the corner again. “Shit. Now’s there’s four of them. They’re getting reinforced.”

  Nigel ducked as a laser bolt from behind him narrowly missed his face. He fired several shots down the passageway. “They’re getting braver back here.”

  The rumble in the floor grew.

  Epard fired around the corner ag
ain, then fell back, her shoulder singed. “Too close,” she said. “I think there are five of them now.”

  “We don’t have time,” Nigel said, “They’ve got both motors running and—” He stopped as a call came in.

  “Understood,” Nigel replied over the radio. “We’re still working our way up to the bridge. The ship appears to be an Altar ship, and the damn ants are everywhere. They just started the motors and we’re trapped just shy of the bridge. It looks like we’re going to need a hand…and fast!”

  The lights flashed. “Damn!” Corporal Epard exclaimed. “They just transferred to internal power. We’re seconds from liftoff.”

  “There’s a bunch of them behind us, too,” Nigel said. He fired his rifle several times to keep the Altar under cover. “Better do something quick—I can’t hold them much longer!”

  Hanger Two, Blood Drinkers’ Base, Bestald

  “Blow it,” Mason ordered. The men had rigged the explosives then retreated down the hall to avoid shrapnel.

  Jernigan mashed the button on the detonator, and the building shook with the force of the explosion.

  “I didn’t hear the safe hit the ground,” Mason noted.

  “Wait for it…” Jernigan urged.

  They waited, but they didn’t hear anything further. Mason led them back into the room, where the safe waited for them, almost unscratched.

  “Damn it; I was afraid that was going to happen,” Mason said. The explosives had blown out the back of the office and part of the floor; however, the force of the blast had pushed the safe away from the wall; it hadn’t fallen through.

  “Well, at least we have a hole now,” Private Parker said. “Can’t we just push it through?”

  “The damn things are really heavy,” Jernigan replied. “Really heavy. We can try, but I doubt we’re going to move it.”

  “How about more explosives underneath it? What if we go down to the next floor and set up some more explosives on the roof?”