The Shadow Among The Stars: Book One of the Dread Naught Trilogy
The Shadow Among the Stars
Book One of the Dread Naught Trilogy
By Dylan Sanchez
© 2017 Dylan Sanchez
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.
For information, contact the author at:
https://www.facebook.com/dylanwaynesanchezauthor/
Cover art and design by Kelsey Gudson © 2017
https://www.kelseygudsonart.com/
To the lost, the forgotten, and the oppressed. You are heard, you are loved, and you are important. May you find some small measure of solace in the knowledge that not only will humanity one day overcome the terrible crimes of our past and present, but that your every effort brings that day closer.
***
To Mr. Comer: Between playful smacks to the back of the head, you always told me that “Genius must produce.” I don’t know about the genius part, but I like to think I’ve now produced.
***
To my parents: for instilling in me a life-long love of reading, writing, learning, and imagining that has sustained me through every struggle. You have enriched my life in a way many would envy, and I will never forget it.
***
To my wife, the best and funniest woman on the planet. You are without qualification the greatest part of my life, and sharing my existence with you on this Earth is the best thing I will ever be blessed enough to experience. Without your insistent belief in me, this book would simply not have happened. I love you with all of my heart.
A Fraught Future
More than a century ago, Humanity launched from its Terran cradle and joined the greater galactic community. Humans spread across the stars in leaps and bounds, absorbing every wonder and discovery with the eagerness of bright-eyed children. Greed and malice persisted as always in the hearts of the powerful but, in comparison with past ages, Humankind found itself in the midst of a civilization-wide renaissance.
The population and resource woes of Earth had all but vanished. Colonial expeditions and scientific invention wrought better forms of energy and new methods of providing for the Human race. Much of the loss and damage dealt to the venerable planet from internecine conflicts and environmental devastation had been restored.
Alien delegations and trade ships began to travel through the Compressed-Space Gate Network into Sol, and a close alliance had been formed with the neighboring Qixing Commonwealth. Though tensions with the strong-willed T’hròstag Empire and tempermental Ly Aulth Stellar Confederacy continued, most Human worlds lived in peace and prosperity.
The universe had become more wondrous and amazing with each passing year, until a shadow began to stir among the stars.
1. The Operative and the Opposition
*** MAYDAY ***
Time: 0409 UTC; Imminent Danger/Hostility
Response per CSOE Protocol 142.1.5
Action Approved by Councilwoman Braynard
Condensed abstract follows. Full details attached.
Source of this distress call is a remote laboratory belonging to the United Astro-Spatial Combine, a research institute dedicated to furthering the study of dimensional phenomenon such as the Compressed-Space gates and other more theoretical technologies. Emphasis in this abstract has been placed on the more alarming details of the situation.
Thirty-six minutes from the initial emergency transmission an unidentified contact registered on station radar from less than six-thousand kilometers—as if it the contact had simply not existed until a startlingly close distance. The signal—failing to respond to transmissions—bore the apparent mass of a decent-sized craft, or perhaps a cluster of many smaller craft. The small garrison posted to the station went on high alert, locked down the station bulkheads, and prepared for engagement. Warning shots from the station’s cannons failed to dissuade the signal as it neared.
Surviving witnesses report seeing stars in the direction of the signal being blotted out as something passed in front of them. By the time the signal reached the surface of the complex and enveloped it, the personnel of the facility had retreated from an observation position. The first visual confirmation of the interlopers occurred after repeated impacts and weapon signatures began to breach the outer bulkheads.
The Marine garrison took a compact formation defending the approach to the central panic room, where the station’s researchers are still sequestered. The men and women of the Astral Marines fought against a seemingly numberless, unidentified foe. After roughly an hour, the assault slackened and then ceased. Within minutes the stellar signal withdrew and vanished from sensors at the same distance it had initially appeared, and no sign of it has yet been found. Remaining functional security feeds reveal that some of the interlopers remain within the facility. According to eye-witness reports and station sensor data, only a single Marine remains alive.
A Marine escort is en route to accompany you. Eliminate all remaining hostile life forms, re-secure the station, and assess the nature of this threat.
Integrity and Strength,
Lucinda Braynard
◆◆◆
Four hours from the laboratory’s first mayday, a bloated, scowling mass of dense armor plates entered the planetary system. The vessel was a Hermes Mass-conveyer sent at the behest of the Colonial Special Operations Executive, a high-level organization tasked with helping ensure the security of Human-held space against all manner of threats through diplomatic, logistical, and occasionally military or subversive means. The bulky conveyer craft arrived at speed through the Compression-Gate that lay beyond the orbit of the fifth planet. As its massive Drive Array spun down, the Hermes released a small lifter from among its dozens of empty docking points. The small, needle-like craft darted in toward the besieged facility on a moon of the second planet.
The Astral Marines were the finest military force Humanity had ever created, a rigidly disciplined and stout-hearted Corps of incredible bravery and sublime skill at arms. The Marines aboard the lifter were clad in the Corps’ standard issue pale green combat armor, a protective scheme designed by engineers and perfected by artists. The outer, absorptive layer of their breastplates were molded to imitate the shape of their bodies and musculature. Beneath the customized exterior was a rigid, unisex armor plate. Spreading from the torso was a set of full-coverage plating printed to follow the contours of each soldiers’ limbs. Their gauntlets were reinforced with external ribbing, and a hydraulic punch plate over each knuckle provided extra force in close combat. The Marines’ feet were housed within heavy magnetizing boots, granting them two or so extra inches of height. The overall thickness of the armor made each soldier appear to be a substantially larger, more intimidating version of themselves.
In contrast with the more subtly organic design of the rest of the armor, the famous helmet of the Astral Marine Corps was a harshly industrial construct with a thick oblong visor, culminating in an imposing re-breather that gave each Marine the snarling visage of some metallic beast. Environmental and communications equipment were contained within a square, armored crest on top.
The entirety of the squadron aboard the lifter sat in silent deference to the unique individual among them. The VIP sat at the halfway point of the lifters’ disembarkation hold and wore a suit of bronze-colored armor superficially similar to that of the Marines, excepting blue ambassadorial coloring along the joints and seams of the armor. Overall the armor was slightly slimmer, and seemed to be constructed of different materials that gave it a glossier sheen. Several unidentified devices were attached to the VIP’s armored waist
band, and lighting mounts were attached on either side of her collar. The VIP’s helm was smoothly curved and bore a trio of rounded crests containing various monitoring, scanning, and communication equipment on the back of the head. The plating’s imitative anatomy showed the VIP to be a woman of average height with strong shoulders and hips, stocky limbs, and honed musculature. Her posture was professional but relaxed, her presence calming and assertive. She was performing a final review of her mission particulars on the inner surface of her visor. As the pilot calmly announced final approach the VIP smoothly disengaged her harness, stood, and removed her helmet in one motion.
She was well past middle age by Terran standards, with a deep caramel skin tone. Smile lines and crow’s feet adorned a storied face rich in the type of timeless beauty achieved only through natural grace and the experiences of a life well-lived. Her short hair was an ever-so-slightly unruly spread of indecisive dusty browns thoroughly adorned with silver flourishes. Full eyebrows accented eyes the color and richness of fertile soil in whose depths could be found wisdom, temperance, and an eternal vigor. Now, as in all times of risk and danger, her pale lips seemed to barely conceal a coy smile. The VIP was Bryluen Branok, a Knight of the Order of Titan and the single most decorated Operative the Colonial Special Operations Executive had ever seen. More legend than woman, Bryluen was more practical and grounded than her numerous titles may suggest.
Bryluen paused for the slightest, tension-building moment as her sudden motion drew the attention of the assembled Marines. Her voice bore a melodious accent of lilting vowels and gently tumbling consonants that filled her surgically-precise elocution with an infectious vibrancy.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the Io 64th, I need not remind you that we are heading into an unknown danger. Despite how dearly fond I am of the sound of my voice, you are—each and every one of you—big kids.” She smiled and paused as the Marines chuckled. "I can personally confirm that the entities still within the laboratory are unknown to us. CSOE info-miners are already searching for matches in available databases, but for now we only know what Sergeant Audra has been able to relay.
“I know from your records that each and every one of you has a minimum of three clean up missions to your name, and enough contact with unfamiliar enemies that I can and do expect the most wariness possible. However, due to the limited and unique information we have received on the nature of the enemy, I am explicitly permitting and encouraging you to discharge your weaponry into any shadows or dark spaces in the event of any doubt or uncertainty per CSOE Discretion. Sergeant Audra has confirmed that she and the researchers remain confined to the central bunker in order to ease the operation and prevent any incidents. Question?”
A particularly tall and broad man raised a hand, prompting Bryluen to nod in his direction. He snapped a smart salute as he spoke. “Dame, are any stealth or sound protocols in place for this mission?”
She shook her head. “There are not. Sergeant Audra’s experiences lead us to believe the entities are unfailingly, even suicidally aggressive, so assume immediate and continuous action from the first hostility. We know the enemy has ranged capability, but they preferred melee during their attack. Now let’s get in there and raise some hell!”
Without a further word, she smoothly replaced her helmet.
◆◆◆
The UASC facility was a blue-gray blister of concrete and metal on the surface of the small moon. Ddebris floated in the airless environ surrounding the complex, most of which was contained underground. Glittering fragments of metal hovered and swirled in the void, rippling out from the twisted husks of the mass-driver cannons that crowned the laboratory. Large swathes of the facility’s exterior surface appeared to be painted in broad streaks of some black powder. A small hangar provided berth for the dagger-like transport. The bay opened as the lifter approached, allowing the Marine pilot to bring the craft inside neatly and quickly, turning a tight circle as they touched down so as to aim the ramp toward the facility entrance. The hangar bay was a decent size, enough to accommodate four or five planetary cargo craft. Currently, several smaller shuttles and stacks of metal crates were strewn about. A large hatch roughly four meters across kept the corridor connecting the hangar to the rest of the facility tightly sealed. Almost immediately after entry, the exterior hatch closed and the bay began to re-pressurize. Dame Branok and the Marines had no intention to wait, however, and their sealed armor meant they did not have to. As the landing ramp soared open, the Astral Marines rushed outward into a spread formation with Bryluen in the center.
The Io 64th was a close-combat unit equipped for battle in the claustrophobic confines of alien hives, starship corridors, cavern systems, and of course facilities such as these. The majority of the Marines were armed with bulky shotguns, an armored grenade holster along the waist, a compact supply pack between their shoulders, and a gauntlet-mounted ripsaw. The two largest members of the squad bore the unit’s pragmatically-titled Shotcannons on stabilizing harnesses. A broad ripsaw blade loomed beneath the weapons’ dual barrels.
The Dame had arrived loaded to bear as well. A chunky, light-gray pistol was holstered beneath one arm, and a curious rifle built of a blue alloy was gripped in her hands. The exotic firearm she held possessed a tank rather than a magazine, which jutted from beneath a triad of triangular barrels. She made a brief hand signal toward the interior hangar door, and in response the squadron took a breaching position around the hatch as Bryluen sidled up next to the entryway.
The Operative hunched down by the red activation button that triggered the inner hatch, and commanded her helmet to switch communication channels. "Sergeant Audra, we are arrayed in the Hangar Bay. Do you receive?"
A tense voice answered curtly. "Loud and clear, Dame Branok. I am transferring the station schematics and have researchers watching the remaining security cams. Best guess puts the remaining enemy count at a minimum of two hundred, but coverage is incomplete. Now—I wasn’t sure how to communicate this before—but the enemy didn’t look solid at first: just shadowy, dark, no specific form my eyes could really trace even though we knew they were there. Over time they’ve become more visible to me—I can clearly make out limbs and teeth, like my eyes are getting used to seeing them."
Bryluen took in the new information for a moment. "The researchers have been holed up in the bunker the entire time, correct? What does the enemy look like to them in the cameras?"
Sergeant Audra relayed the question to the researchers, and after a moment responded to Bryluen. "They look solid to the researchers, and solid on camera to me as well."
Bryluen nodded to herself. "So it has to do with our eyes rather than the visual spectrum itself. What filters did you and your soldiers try?"
"Ultra Violet gave us the best visuals, though even that was incomplete. Thermal is no-go, they may be Silicates or something. X-Ray showed nothing, so again either Silicate or perhaps a Non-Newtonian composition. Motion detection was just fine, but they clump together in swarms so it was more distracting than anything."
Bryluen nodded. "Good to know. Any theories or information on why these ones were left behind, Sergeant?"
Audra sighed. "Not the slightest clue. They seem to be wandering, almost like they’re lost. If I had any notion why we’d been attacked or why the attack had ceased in the first place, we might have some theories. For all we know they just didn’t get the retreat signal in time. Can’t see any meaningful direction among them, and my brief patrol from earlier confirmed they’ll just heedlessly attack on sight."
"Right." Bryluen waved one of the Shotcannoniers forward to a position on the other side of the inner hatch. "Last question: were you able to make out a meaningful way to identify the different types of these things? You mentioned some variety in behavior and combat capability."
Audra made a sort of thoughtful, groaning sound. "Most common type seemed to have some way of projecting energy. They’re slightly smaller than a person, thin with stringy limbs, and their head
looks like a flower or something. The other type was some bigger ones: thick, hunched, horned. Didn’t shoot anything, just rushed forward and took a lot of bullets before going down—unless they gored you first. That’s really all I can say with confidence, and all this only became apparent about fifteen minutes into the fighting when visibility became enough to really make sense of things."
With a glance, Bryluen confirmed the squadron was in cover behind the abandoned crates and equipment scattered around the forlorn bay. "Thank you, Sergeant. Warn us if anything we need to know about shows up on the cameras. Squadron: arms up, and look alive!" After a moment she stiffly slapped the large red button.
Warning lights overhead began to spin and an alarm signaled the opening of the inner hatchway. The thick doorway raised at what felt like a snail’s pace, unveiling a long, metal corridor. The first half of the hall was untouched and clean, whereas the latter portion connecting to the facility was covered in scratches and tears from wall to wall as if the enemy had partially flowed within before realizing there were no targets toward the hangar. Bryluen signaled the squad to move forward with a Shotcannonier taking both point and rear. Bryluen followed second in line, shouldering her rifle. The squad smoothly advanced up the empty corridor and then assembled before the entry hall in three rows: the first crouched low, the second hunched, and the third standing high. Bryluen took up position beside the innermost door, and paused as Audra informed the squad a small group of enemies lay beyond the doorway. She glanced back to the Marines, counted down from three with one hand, and triggered the doorway with her elbow.