Chương 176: Chapter 146

The Kra'at Systems were the product of theft, deception, and geometry. A mere 40, 000 years ago the High Tyrant Ka'at (Placated Be His Wrath) managed to slide the Kra'at Systems away from a near-omnipotent devouring entity known as the Unified Systems Council.

True, the Kra'at Systems sat in a strange gravitational warp caused by the massive black holes within the galactic core and an invisible supermassive object a few hundred light years away as well as the Great Attractor super-galactic system inside a dark matter dust cloud.

True, in some places of the Kra'at Systems a ship could go up to 5, 000 times the speed of light with normal sublight engines and only achieve a maximum speed of 15, 000 kilometers an hour using superluminal drive, meaning that the geometry of the Kra'at Systems was a mess to anyone without the intellectual capacity of a Kra'at schoolboy.

True, the Kra'at Systems were slightly 'out' and 'down' from the Galactic Arm Spur, with a hundred and fifty light year dark matter 'band' separating the Kra'at Systems from the Spur. But the Kra'at Systems had been stolen by cleverness, ingenuity, and an iron will of dedication. The species of the Kra'at System mirrored the species of the Unified Council 40, 000 years ago. It also mirrored the species of the Terran Confederacy of Aligned Systems 40, 000 years ago.

At first, that didn't sound important, if you were more ignorant than a Kra'at schoolchild on its first day. Every Kra'at Systems child knew that every inhabited planet had a comfortable 2 trillion inhabitants. Why, there was even a neat little jump rope rhyme that the youngest child capable of speech, memory, and self-locomotion knows, as you well know. You're right, it is a cute rhyme. But let us not get sidetracked.

Yes, the Kra'at System had green mantid engineers, descended from those that helped fight the vile Atrekna (May They Burn in Hellspace). Only a few trillion, scattered across the Kra'at Systems aboard every ship, every deep space and orbital habitat, every city, every factory, even some vehicles. Green Mantids made the money flow. The Kra'at Systems even boasted its own Treana'ad Hordes. Fifteen of them. But the Kra'at System had something nobody else did. To be honest, nobody really came out to the Kra'at Systems.

Their distance prevented them from being part of the Reunified Systems, the Confederacy, the Democratic Peoples Nation of Planets, or even The Grand Alliance of Those Systems Better Than Everyone Else. Joining one of those would be to give up the terrible terrible Freedom (May We Hold It Tightly) that was the blood curse inflicted upon every child and adult of the Kra'at Systems. So nobody really knew a secret that the Kra'at Systems possessed. A thing that in a way was a secret weapon.

Something so terrible, so horrifying, so dangerous, so amazing, that the Kra'at Systems just didn't tell anyone else about it. Let's look at what it was. 0-0-0-0-0 The alarm was wailing, an atonal warbling sound scaling up and down the audible ranges. The occupant of the berthing chamber came up out of the bunk in a combat form, swinging on a shape half-recognized made up of a uniform and a hanger mag-tapped to the wall. A slap turned off the alarm.

Cursing and nursing a bruised knuckle the occupant got dressed in the dark, ensuring they were fully dressed before leaving their room and moving briskly through hallways and corridors. When they exited the corridor and entered the space beyond the least ranking jumped to their feet.

"Captain on deck!" they called out.

"As you were," the being stated. It looked around with a steady gaze.

"Break it down."

"Single ship just exited rapid sublight. No ID, looks like the rapid sublight drive failed. Ship's a dead hulk," Commander Lo'owrent stated, the Lanaktallan's voice was cold and crisp.

"It's still moving relative to the stellar mass. Analysis shows that if it is not intercepted it will impact Grevaston-VII in one hundred fifteen years."

"Do we know whose ship it is?" the Captain asked.

"Negative, Captain. Hull analysis puts it at 80% that is a Kra'at Systems Tyranny Class Destroyer but it is putting out no emmissions," Lo'owrent said. The Captain nodded then turned to communications.

"Are we cleared for intercept?" Ensign (Most Senior Grade) Jem'tup nodded.

"There was some concern, but we are the only vessel within six days of being able to intercept it. The in-system grav shear is showing flutters, as was predicted." The Captain nodded.

"Get us close," they smiled.

"Wake up the troops. I want a boarding party on that thing ASAP." The Tukna'rn in charge of the ship's boarding party didn't smile, just turned and began the process to thaw out and equip the boarding parties. The Captain smiled, reaching up and stroking his goatee.

"Excellent." 0-0-0-0-0 PFC Rockmeyer sat in the dropship. Unlike the dropship for most teams, this one was battered looking, worn looking. An attentive being could see where the enameled paint had been repaired, where there were scraped and dings from use. Where the enamel paint was chipped or scratched. Unlike other dropships, the Angry Falcon Talon made a steady growling humming sound as it moved through space. The engines and systems made the ship vibrate slightly.

Not enough to disrupt or interfere with tasks, but enough to be felt.

"WEAPON CHECK!" was yelled out even as it flashed on his helmet visor. Unlike other species, his species like the audible commands of superiors being broadcast on atmospheric speakers as well as across digital and analogue communication channels. Rockmeyer checked his weapon. Power cell at 100%. Ammo at 100%. A touch of the stud brought back six green idiot lights, meaning the other systems were just fine. Tracking, identification, all of the computerized advantages his rifle offered to his onboard systems.

"EQUIPMENT CHECK!" Rockmeyer ran the function checks in order. First his cyberware, then his armor's critical systems, then his suit's standard systems, finishing with a commo check to his squad leader as well as to the platoon channel. It all checked out. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Then he went back to sitting quietly. He knew some of the guys played solitaire or other games or read books or even slept during the long wait for the dropship to get into position.

Rockmeyer preferred to just sit silently in a slight meditative trance and let his mind drift. Let his subconscious wander around in his thoughts. --you ok rocko-- appeared in his vision, both on his visor and his cybernetic retinal link.

"Just fine," Rockmeyer answered. --good good-- the green mantid battle buddy stated. B638 looked over Rockmeyer's statistics again, over his telemetry. All his vitals were good, his brainwaves were steady and within standard deviations. --twenty minutes to lock--"All right," Rockmeyer said. His hands moved on their own, checking his gear. Breaching charges, signal repeaters, EMP charges. Everything a growing boy needed. The harness suddenly tightening slightly warned Rockmeyer that it was almost time.

"Mission status change!" was called out. The changes passed from the crew chief to the platoon sergeant to Rockmeyer's squad leader and then too Rockmeyer. The ship would be landing in the vehicle bay of the unidentified ship as the landing bay's door had responded to override and opened. Which put the ship as one of the Kra'at System Space Force vessels at virtually 80%, a sheer certainty. When the ship landed, Rockmeyer would be first out the starboard aft door and immediately seek cover.

He was cleared for live weapons. --ready ready-- B638 said.

"Ready, steady," Rockmeyer answered. His hands did another check of his gear. The pitch of the engines changed, the thrumming altered, and the internal grav plates simulated the front of the dropship lifting slightly and the dropship decelerating in gravity.

"STAND UP!" came the yelled command as the five point harness released and the impact bar lifted up. Rockmeyer came to his feet, moving to the starboard rear door. The crew master by the door slapped over Rockmeyer's armor, running external function checks. His weapon went live, along with his charges and his strength and reflex enhancement. It felt like warm honey being poured across his nerve endings. There was a slight thump. The door opened and Rockmeyer's brain ran all the data his optic nerves brought in.

The deck was damaged. Nothing piercing, but signs of fighting. There were dead troops on the floor. Two dropships sat scorched and burnt less than fifty paces from where Rockmeyer was standing. There were pebbly gray starfish on the floor, the arms flat against the decking and humped in the middle.

"MAR-GITE!" Rockmeyer called out over speakers, the platoon channel, the squad channel, the local channel, and the command channel. B638 immediately changed the ammo type for the warforge. The three other dismount leaders, port forward, port aft, starboard forward, all called out the same. Rockmeyer was already moving, throwing himself out of the dropship, one long step taking three meters, give or take a few inches, from the ship.

His weapon came up, locking into his shoulder socket, and he was firing even as he was moving. The 6. 2mm warsteel cored slugs tore into Mar-gite flesh, sending sprays of frost as blood immediately froze in vacuum. Two steps and he had raked the center mounds of a half dozen. B638 watched the metrics and vitals. All within low performance tolerance. B638 knew there was no reason yet to release the inhibitor. Yet. Rockmeyer was silent as he ran for the nearest blown out dropship.

Third in line, PV2 Nickmeister, side armed a shredder grenade at a large humped up group of Mar-gite. It exploded in dull reddish flash, sending shredded flesh and frost sprays of blood flying out from where there was now stains on the warsteel deck. The remains kept the same speed as they spread out through the landing bay. Not that Rockmeyer cared much beyond his subconscious tracking the larger chunks.

He did a quick head snap scan of the port after entrance on the dropship, looking at the seats, even as he moved along the side of the dropship, not stopping for a longer look.

"Looks like a Lanaktallan vessel. Dropship is in Lanaktallan mode for troops seats," he stated to his squad leader, who passed it up. B638 went to warn Rockmeyer. The back of the starfish was black, merging in with the color of the dropship. It began to peel off of the side of the dropship, where the acids that coated its tubefeet even bit into warsteel. The interior was pale white, almost cream colored. Rockmeyer didn't hesitate.

He reached out, grabbed the rough pebbly outside, bunching it up in his fist and ripping the armored skin around his fist as his fingers dug deep into the muscle tissue, and tore it off the side. He fired his rifle one-handed, the armor's power assist keeping the rifle steady. The rounds punched into the Mar-gite before it could react. The warsteel that its body was moving to the outside armor of the creature kept the rounds from punching all the way through.

The rounds shattered the warsteel doped braincase and liquified the rude nerve bundle that could charitably be called a brain. Rockmeyer dropped the creature, taking a long step over it. B638 watched carefully, keeping an eye on the metrics. The psychic shielding suddenly kicked on even as Rockmeyer suddenly moved, warned by something that B638 didn't detect. Rockmeyer dove away from the dropship, rolling across the decking.

"EYES UP!" Rockmeyer yelled. His smartlink let him fire at the targets. B638 took almost a full half-seconds to realize what Rockmeyer was shooting at. Mar-gite dropping from the roof were shredded by Rockmeyer's rounds, the rest of his squad and then the platoon joining in on the fire. It was almost a full second and a half for the dropship's computers to see the threat, identify the threat, then react to it.

Fourth Squad, tasked with security for the dropship, wiped away the falling Mar-gite before they could land on the dropship. There was the rapid flashing of a M318 being deployed. Normally silent in vacuum but Rockmeyer's onboard system added the sounds of the weapon fire. Rockmeyer didn't drop to one knee, he stayed up, glancing up every half second or so even as he kept moving. Aboard the dropship the Crew Chief looked over at the Senior Lieutenant at the control board.

The Lanaktallan wanted to call back the dismount troops and bug out but the Lieutenant seemed perfectly at ease. Of course, it had to do with the troops that the Senior Lieutenant was commanding.

"Sixth squad, watch your fire, those are fuel tanks," the Lieutenant warned.

"Use aerosol grenades instead of live fire." The icons blinked, no other response, but the Crew Chief had learned over a century ago that it was standard with the drop troops.

"Third section, clear the landing bay, second section, guard the dropship," the Senior Lieutenant ordered.

"First Section, push forward to the Combat Information Center." The Crew Chief nodded to himself. Yes, it was now obvious that the Mar-gite were somehow attacking the Kra'at Systems. But in what strength? That was the real question. Rockmeyer didn't know or care about what the Crew Chief was musing. He threw a shredder grenade ahead of him, the ball-shaped charge sailing across the room in a flat line in the zero-G. It was only a foot or so from the door when it exploded.

Mar-gite flesh erupted from the black metal door. B638 had been Rockmeyer's battle buddy for two years and three boarding operations. Everything was just plain standard from his view. From the almost preternatural reflexes to the almost nonchalant weapon fire, it was all the same to B638. The door accepted the override codes B638 flashed and opened. Rockmeyer was already pulling the trigger as the door raised, the rounds ripping into the Mar-gite in the hallway beyond.

I wonder how Charlie Moo Moo is going to get out of the Padded Box of Comfort next week? Rockmeyer idly wondered as he sidearmed another shredder grenade into the door. PVT Chiliden beat him to it with his underbarrel grenade launcher, putting three in rapid succession through the gap. The Mar-gite rushing the opening were ripped to shreds by the four grenades. I wonder what's for dinner tonight? Chiliden wondered. I could go for some steak and lobster.

Rockmeyer followed the arrow at the bottom of his face shield, heading for the Combat Information Center. He, or someone else in his squad, always put rounds center-mass on any of the Mar-gite. So far, all that was revealed was a stain and pebbled damaged to the warsteel decking. The door to the CIC was melted away, leaving a gaping hole. Rockmeyer moved through and started firing, each trigger pull dropping three to fire rounds into the Mar-gite. Only one managed to lift a single arm.

PFC Parnass moved across the CIC, over to the server farm. He just ripped open front of one large boxy thing that was cold, dark, and silent, then ripped free the memory unit. The Senior LT saw it and hit the recall icon. Rockmeyer saw the recall icon and turned in place, hustling back the way he had come. The Crew Chief watched silently. He had served in the Kra'at armed forces for nearly a century. None of what he had seen was that surprising, to be honest.

The Crew Chief watched the dismount troops return, moving by squad. Mar-gite charging out of corridors and into the landing bay were chopped apart by M318A11b6v2. 2 and M299 fire. Someone had deployed, with the Senior Lieutenant's permission, a self-healing mine field as well as a brace of gun drones. The last of the squad loaded up. The Senior Lieutenant ordered a visual headcount followed by a gear check. When it came back as clear the doors were sealed and the dropship broke mag-seal, lifting up slightly.

It backed out of the landing bay as the Senior Lieutenant ordered another check. As it arced and started heading away the Crew Chief nodded to himself. It was exactly how he expected it to go and that fact was a balm to his Lanaktallan soul. Ninety seconds of full throttle and the dropship was out of range of harm when the frigate fired missiles. The ship exploded as the dropship headed toward the frigate. Rockmeyer found the whole thing particularly satisfying to watch.

The Chief noted that most of the drop troops watched the external cameras and derived obvious satisfaction from watching the ship explode behind them. The Crew Chief was familiar with the Kra'at System's secret. The one asset they possessed that nobody else did. And it was comforting to know they were there as he watched their vitals and metrics move to boredom. Humans. Humans never change.