The Shadow Among The Stars: Book One of the Dread Naught Trilogy Read online

  Then again, away from the Peacestone he was bereft of his best form of communication. The "songs" he used in battle were tunes and hymns he learned growing up, epics and poems describing beauty, nature, justice, and a thousand other wonderful ideals. Now the lovely harmonies and melodious expressions were rendered into tools of destruction and death.

  Words could be dangerous, his people learned. With the Peacestone to suppress their lethal natural defenses the songs that once endangered his species developed into complex, heart-rendingly evocative messages and emotions that could stir entire nations to intense feeling. He was a practical individual prone to improvisation, and held a will to survive as a core virtue. But deep inside it was extremely hard for him to disabuse himself of the notion his every violent issuance was as good as spitting in the eyes of his ancestors. He felt crude, clumsy, and barbaric even as the logical parts of his psyche told him doing so was unavoidable and the best usage of his situation. Such internal complexities were lost on the Gugalannas below as a fan of lightning bolts tore them into pieces.

  Kirby slapped a Rabisu aside, causing it to limply bounce away across the concrete. A thick alloy-shod foot crushed another, and a sweep of a blade bisected three more. She had fallen into a semi-trance state, her mind and body wholly one with the Marduk. Her motions were clean and brief, each action slaying another enemy with shells, fists, or blades. By this point she was listening to music, growling bass notes and crashing guitars blasting inside her cockpit as she fought.

  If the corpses of The Dreaded stuck around instead of dissolving from contact or being carried off with the wind, she imagined an impressive mound of them would have built up all around her. She grabbed an En-Rabisu, shunting a blade through its head before shoving its corpse aside and locking blades with its compatriot. A Shala sent a rocket overhead to detonate a third as she arm-locked her current foe and stabbed through its chest.

  Her armor was dented, pitted, and burned in dozens of places from hundreds of claws or horns and dozens of fireballs. Another En-Rabisu had struck the cockpit glass with a fireball a couple minutes ago, the translucent alloy holding but showing damage. She proceeded to corral another group of Gugalannas, each falling in sequence to a shell in the eye or a harsh stab.

  Bryluen’s voice caused Kirby’s music to mute for a moment. “Furcotte, the Marines just hit the gate. Two Corvettes and a Frigate. Their island is going to be a cratered, useless disaster and they will appreciate it. The Marines hit precision strike range in six minutes, so queue them some targets from the topographical data and keep hanging on.”

  As she powered more shells into the surrounding foe, Kirby identified a number of strike points for the Marine fleet in orbit. To those unaccustomed to starship firepower, the thunderous impact of the Monitor shells assuredly appeared nothing short of apocalyptic. Those who knew better, however, were aware the size and velocity of starship cannons ranged upward rapidly with increasing ship classes. A Corvette alone could bat a Monitor aside with ease. Corvettes mounted six more weapons, each of which was substantially more powerful than those of a Monitor and could include missile clusters or flak.

  A Frigate was notably larger and toted six additional weapons over the armaments of a Corvette, and could easily fight three Corvette-class vessels in a pitched battle with its multi-barreled burst cannon emplacements, combat drone swarms, and even boarding torpedoes.

  From there the size of ships increased in ever-greater leaps to Destroyers, Cruisers, Battle Cruisers, Dreadnoughts that could single-handedly bombard multiple armored planetary targets, and finally the rare Battleships, each of which could transport a dozen lesser craft and possessed so much firepower they were not allowed within a certain stellar distance of inhabited Human worlds outside of a direct combat deployment. Over Tāwhiri, two Corvettes and a Frigate were more than enough.

  Near the Atua Gate, the Marine Frigate, the H.S.S.F. Geirhardt, released its two docked Corvettes, and the trio set course for Tāwhiri. Each Corvette was a chunky craft consisting of two conjoined, roughly rectangular shapes: a thicker, large shape in the front bearing and the smaller in the rear mounting the primary thrusters. Each bore a healthy spread of weaponry, mainly intended to provide point-defense for larger craft and to deter drones, missiles, or boarding attempts. Cannons, laser arrays, missiles, and flak cannons stood out of each. The Frigate loomed over them, a slightly more complex shape still dedicated entirely to function and ease of maintenance. The Frigate’s armor was much thicker and its weaponry quite a bit larger. A main three-cannon turret capable of high rates of fire was mounted to the center of the top and bottom of the craft (as far as such things could be considered in space), serving as its main ship-to-ship armament as well as the most likely candidate for bombardment tasks.

  The Geirhardt’s two prow weapons were large laser arrays capable of rapid subsystem destruction, as well as being the smallest Human laser weapons powerful enough to cut out pieces of an enemy ship during battle.

  Such a dual array was famously employed by the H.S.S.B.C. Shenlong to end the threat of the Rrothikkri Vrroth Klla cartel, cause a rapid change in Ly Aulth starship engineering and tactics, and acquire a Human-favored trade and military treaty in a single shot. This was accomplished by surgically extracting the Captaincy Pod of the enemy Capital Ship whilst the craft’s drones were committed to an assault on the H.S.S.Dr. Zulu. Regardless of such theatrics, due to atmospheric refraction and scattering, lasers were frowned upon for use as planetary bombardment weapons.

  Kirby, pulling her blade from what must have been the thirtieth Gugalanna she had killed, smiled as she spotted a telltale trail of fire in the sky. A Qixing drop craft was roaring downward. She used an open channel to send coordinates and a brief tactical overview to the Sentinels as they descended.

  A Qixing drop vessel was a squat craft with a vertically flattened shape—as was true with most Qixing ships. It was almost better for falling than it was flying, bearing equally spaced deceleration thrusters for stability and embarkation ramps in all four directions. The ship was built to land at speeds inadvisable for anything that wasn’t engineered specifically for the task.

  The Sentinels acknowledged the coordinates and subtly shifted course as they burst into the lower atmosphere. Exactly what units had been sent was unknown, but Kirby noted the drop craft was a vehicle transport.

  Amid the furious fighting on the landing pad, the craft touched down two dozen meters away. The craft crushed and burned everything nearby as its braking thrusters finished their task. Painted in the bright heraldry of the Gate the Sentinels deployed from, four automated weapons unfolded from each corner of the ship and began to fire into the horde to clear the way for the ramp. After a moment of furious energy blasts, the disembarkation ramp pointed in the direction of Kirby and the Shalas shot out of the ship and clanged against the ground. An instant later the hatch burst open, and the Gate Sentinels rushed forth.

  The Sentinels arrived prepared: the first Qixing military asset to exit the drop ship was a large, squarish vehicle like a flattened tank that hovered a meter above the ground. The vehicle was a Hover Fortress, a war machine intended for urban and amphibious combat where the ability to fire in any direction at a moment’s notice was the most important factor. As such, the low profile of the vehicle and the numerous weapons dotted around its perimeter and on top of its hull allowed it to lay down supporting fire in as many directions as needed.

  Energy bolts and piercing bullets fired in vicious arcs from the around the Fortress as it slid down the ramp. A pair of coilgun turrets on top picked out En-Rabisus and Gugalannas from the horde around them. Vort witnessed the Hover Fortresses’ display as a dramatic light show of advanced weaponry that lit the landing pad in whites and blues below him. Behind the heavy vehicle, three dozen infantry advanced wielding close combat blades and the Sentinels’ signature slender firearms. They rushed directly into battle in small groups, using small field generators as cover.

  Behind them
the leader of the group emerged. A Qixing Storm Mother (or Aouther, or Father) was a highly ranked individual capable of a great degree of unilateral decision-making when deployed. Though bound to commands from superiors, they were capable of embarking on independent actions so long as they did not conflict with their stranding orders. Important gates were often commanded by Storm Mothers to allow the Sentinels to operate as the situation dictated.

  The Storm Mother was a few inches shorter than human average and heavyset, with a wide waist and thick, strong limbs. Her lively red armor was artfully crafted, its surface etched with aquatic designs from Qixing myth. She had a long, tapering helmet with a flared neck guard patterned like a fish’s dorsal fin in the back, giving her a dramatic, animalistic aspect. The small power pack between her shoulders and her elbow pads bore similar fins. Her wide, squared shoulder pads extended outward beyond the joint, and close-fit, faceted armor plates covered her limbs in a procession of convex angles terminating in a pair of pointed boots. This angular translation of her bodily shape did little to androgynize her.

  The Storm Mother’s gauntlets bore golden bands around each finger, her right gauntlet mounting a weapon on top of her forearm. The gauntlet weapon was modular and could wield a wide variety of specialized ammunition, much of which was stored and shielded near the back of her thighs. On her left arm was a huge riot shield, whose sides were angled back to embrace her when she held it close to her body. A pair of weapon barrels projected from the center of the shield and could be triggered with a firing stud attached to the hand grip. Other auxiliary devices were attached to mounts on the inside facing of the shield. Lastly, an elegant sword was slung in a handsome sheath decorated in gold leaf along the back of her left shoulder.

  With an extended arm she fired blinding spheres of green energy into The Dreaded, each shot removing a chunk of flesh in a burst of steam. She brought down a Gugalanna with a trio of blasts, then wheeled and fired upon a lurching En-Rabisu. It took three shots to the chest, stumbling but still advancing. The Storm Mother drew her sword and barreled forward shield first, ramming directly into the creature’s pelvis. What she lacked in height, she more than made up for in leverage and strength—the impact knocked the En-Rabisu to the ground in a scatter of wiry limbs.

  The Storm Mother’s sword was a squat, one-sided blade with an angular, sloped tip, and was intended for slashing motions. The weapon’s thick grip was almost as long as the blade jutting from its end, and housed an extra length of sharpened metal that could emerge from the grip to replace any material that snapped off during battle. A neat, surgical motion demonstrated the blade’s overwhelming sharpness by cleanly removing the En-Rabisu’s left arm at the elbow as it tried to sit up. She then swiftly reversed her sword and sliced the blade through the creature’s throat, holding up her shield as the creatureʼs other arm made one last swing.

  Gurgling its own black ichor, the creature perished. With almost no pause she leveled her shield at the nearest foe and fired a pair of energetic projectiles with a loud whine, the blast tearing a Rabisu limb from limb. Any creatures that loomed close fell afoul of the swift, darting movements of her blade as the shield’s guns punished anything further away. A regular slap of falling limbs sounded around her as she marched forward, whirling her sword in lethally efficient motions. Two kilometers past her, the Monitors struck another target coordinate.

  The Gate Sentinels’ assault quickly created a broader perimeter on the landing pad, the addition of firepower and soldiery easing the task of Dread Naught and the laboring Shalas a great deal. The fighting remained furious enough, but the jump in manpower spread the effort significantly further.

  As the battle line was established with the Hover Fortress as its corner stone, the Storm Mother moved among her troops, issuing commands through their internal comms. As always the Sentinel infantry appeared quiet in battle to outside observers, the constant bangs and cracks of their firearms the sum total of their auditory output.

  Kirby took a moment to breathe. The difference in pressure was immediate and such a great contrast she felt almost casual as she fired shells over the the Sentinels from behind the line. Vort swung low and skidded to a landing just behind the raging Hover Fortress. He slumped slightly, finally able to take a rest. He had been fighting hard to discourage the horde from turning onto their corner of the landing pad, but worried about how much longer he could do so continuously.

  Kirby spotted the alien hunched in the shadow of the war machine and spoke to him through their helmet mics. “You’ve been doin’ a hell of a job, honey. You just rest a minute and let the Qixing help us out. Won’t be long before the Marines hit range and then these bastards’ll get theirs!”

  Bryluen braced at the door to Isolation Storage 2A, a facility for dangerous chemicals, radioactive materials, or other materials which, while not being overly valuable required special, long-term storage solutions. The warehouse consisted of ceiling-high rows of thick storage tanks and cells. They were entering from a side door two thirds of the way down the length of the warehouse, leaving one brief sprint to the entryway of a hidden corridor. That corridor provided a path into Secure Storage intended to allow high-ranking Qual-Ex employees discrete access. Bryluen gauged this route would provide their best chance to escape, though with the Stone in tow she knew it would be a harrowing sprint.

  She had reviewed the particulars with her companions as they approached Isolation Storage 2A: Runner would take the Stone and sprint back along the path by which they arrived, his talents and gear specialized for moving his feet as quickly as possible. Meanwhile, Bryluen and Nicadzim would follow the main corridor of the facility outside, drawing The Dreaded off the trail, if possible, as they headed back toward the landing zone. She saw a light in Runner’s eye as she described his part in things—he asked if it would be improper to use his helmet recorder for posterity, causing Bryluen to smirk.

  The last twelve Qual-Ex guards had set up an admirable deathtrap in the corridor to Secure Storage, dragging every weapon or supply they could find into the reinforced hallway as they retreated. While Qual-Ex held to a strict standard of not partaking in military or weapons research, they did research the refinement and use of various high-value minerals, metals, and crystalline formations which meant the facility's net worth was astronomical. The main warehouse complex had an impressive supply of ammunition and a larger than average complement of security forces. The guards on hand had fortunately understood the threat level they faced, and were therefore quick to gather the year’s supply of defensive armaments and set them up in the depths of the facility.

  Four bulkheads separated Secure Storage from Isolation Storage 2A. Layers of sentry guns and grenade booby traps had been set as each bulkhead gave way before the raw fury of The Dreaded. Three of those bulkheads were now sundered, and the fourth already suffered a hole a half meter across that was becoming gradually larger with every Gugalanna or En-Rabisu that could reach it.

  Bryluen turned her head and made eye contact with Nicadzim and Runner. Both were tensed and ready. Runner bore his strange ax and one of his pistols, while Nicadzim gripped a new close combat weapon: a two-handed contraption with a thick haft leading to a flywheel made of ice. The spinning shape at the end of the weapon was translucent and emitted frosty vapors as it rotated. Bryluen tightly gripped her nanowhip and trusty pistol.

  The Operative nodded and quickly opened the door. Beyond, the large warehouse was filled with rows of storage units twenty meters long laid out on a grid across the entirety of the warehouse. Each was an alloy and concrete-reinforced unit, most with radiation or thermal shielding. Some had translucent panels showing their contents, revealing large geodes, tanks of unidentified liquids, and even a well-preserved Loth Từrn solar proxy.

  The shortest route was to rush to the third row of units, and then to their right along that row the rest of the thirty meters to the concealed door. Each of them was fit and ready for the run—even aside from that it was incredible w
hat a properly adrenaline-charged Human could accomplish.

  The real problem was that the main mass of The Dreaded had rushed in an unceasing tide of darkness through the warehouse to the Secure Storage corridor. They flowed from the far end of the warehouse in an almost solid column, fireballs and claws lashing at the guards and bulkheads in unceasing ferocity. They had begun to pool around the entrance to the corridor as their sheer numbers both overwhelmed the defenders and simply became too much to fit inside the corridor all at once.

  The column of Dreaded filled an area twenty meters to each side of the corridor entrance in a density that should have been suffocating for them. The horde generated a hideous racket as hundreds of Rabisu and En-Rabisu cried out, mixed with the choked, grunting noises of charging Gugalannas.

  The creatures’ single-minded focus meant only the nearest Dreaded would notice the members of Dread Naught, but even a small fraction could easily overwhelm the three Humans as they began their sprint. Runner’s boot lifts carried him easily, his trained grace and poise allowing the subtle motions through which he had to control his movement to best benefit from his armor’s mobility enhancements.

  Nicadzim occasionally appeared ahead of his previous position, keeping pace despite his heavy armor and staying on the inside of the formation to ward off projectiles that might otherwise strike his companions. Bryluen was a capable runner in her own right, her bronze-clad limbs taking great strokes as she carried herself after Runner into the warehouse.

  They had not left the door more than four meters behind when fireballs began to fly their way. The burning projectiles whipped past with whooshes and sparks in their dozens, each coming closer and closer to the mark. Bryluen felt a slight rise in temperature as a projectile passed perilously close. Most were the fist-sized emissions of Rabisus, while those from the En-Rabisus were almost three times that size and could certainly end Runner or Bryluen’s sprint if they were struck.