CHAPTER 10 - ADULA
The Jamavin is an impressively large vessel, measuring roughly three thousand feet long by five hundred feet high and eight hundred feet wide. Emptied of its cargo on Mayreau; one of the Starports in Rouna’s System, it is now headed to Adula for another pickup. Its cargo…? Billion-Credit stones and minerals and whatever else that has been churned and extracted by the miners.
The rumble of its fifteen colossal engines fills the cabin with a constant hum and the scents of oil and grease hang ever present in the air. It is my first time on an Industrial ship and I hope to God that it will be my last. Greasy pipes, running in many directions, line the glossy white metal walls around us. A few very small windows and compartments, housing wires and whatnot, make up the rest of the space as dim white lights along the roof flicker. Above and in front of us is a long-dead Holo-screen unit; a relic of older times. This is one of the very few ships left that run on both Sol Technology, and Oiled Mechanics, which means that the Jamavin must be over three hundred years old. It’s Amazing…Of all the Industrial ships in the galaxy to choose from for my first flight, I had to end up on a clunker.
Maria had lived up to her promise. After leaving her underground lair and the psychopathic looking Manny behind, we ditched the Airvan and traveled by speedboat to an old-world looking Spire group called Richmond. With its closely packed, colorful brick and limestone houses, bakeries and market squares, it wasn’t difficult to blend into and move unnoticed though the fishing town; just another group of tourists taking in the scenery.
Once in Richmond, Maria led us through a maze of sidewalks and alleys to an almost hidden pub, tucked away in one of the many back streets. There we met her contact who, even though a bit suspicious, knew well enough that our presence there was none of his business and so, helped us along our way. I must say, I am impressed by Maria; Akita definitely lost a good one. But that was a little over nine hours ago, and now we are here, safely tucked away in a small passenger compartment behind the cockpit of this ship and approaching Adula.
********
The Jamavin shakes as we pass through atmosphere and enter the Mud planet’s airspace. On my right, through a little oval window, the clear and bright blue Adulan sky is dazzling. The ship jolts again and I look down. Thick grey clouds, miles beneath us in every direction, span as far as can be seen and below them, all is mud; one very giant ball of perpetually shifting muck and rain and because of this, life cannot exist here without the proper facilities or equipment.
Known for their massively high yield of precious stones, minerals and rare deposits, mud planets are few and far between. Miners from all over the galaxy travel to these worlds under the protection and banners of major corporations that are a part of the Super Credit Industry. It is quite fitting really, now I think of it…that a Galactic-Nine secret military facility would be placed here. I just never had a reason to think about it.
“Maria..?”
She is sitting in the aisle seat to my left and her eyes meet mine
“Where exactly is this base?”
What I’ve seen through the tiny window next to me ever since entering the thick cloud cover, is nothing more than a mud ocean and heavy rains that limit visibility to less than a quarter mile.
She raises her voice over the rumble of the ship “It’s beneath the docks where we’re headed. We’ll have to be careful when we land though, the last thing we need are suspicious miners asking too many questions.”
I nod my understanding and return to the bleak world outside. What has become of Mirana? Is she alive? Where is Terri? Is he happy?
The Jamavin slows to a crawl and the outline of what looks like a mountain range comes into view. The sight is unreal. What might have been soil-covered ridges and valleys thousands of years ago, are now bare rock and monumental boulders all wedged together.
“We’re here. Stick to me and don’t talk to anybody.”
Acknowledging her with nods and grunts, we have no choice but to do as she says. The reality of our situation has fully sunken in and if there is nothing on Adula, then we are properly screwed.
The Starship banks and turns as we fly over a huge Eversteel complex that floats above the deep mire by way of Magnatech. The power it generates to stay afloat must be enormous. The mining docks and facilities slide closer and closer and with wicked jolts and rumbles, the ship touches down; shocking me physically and mentally until the immense shakings and noises cease, and after a few minutes, die out entirely. Maria unbuckles her harness. I stand as the rest of the team unclick from their seats, and follow her through the constricted corridor. Looking back at the cockpit, the pilots are nowhere to be seen.
Walking is uncomfortable and trying not to get chaffed is becoming no less difficult than when I first put on this flight suit. It’s bulky and rough, both inside and out but it’s all we’ve got for now. We were given them when we boarded and by the look and smell of mine, it has been used way too many times and not cleaned nearly as much. But I’ll manage.
The smell of oil and grease is even stronger here in the confinement of the passage and were it not for the periodical blasts of recycled air overhead, my lungs would be in need of serious cleaning. But we keep walking, down some narrow stairs now and through a sliding door to the cargo hold. As we enter I survey the scene. There is nothing here but a few crates in a corner, strapped to the not so shine floor; a monstrous room of nothing.
“When we leave the ship, speak to no one. You follow me and do exactly as I say…” Maria looks toward Akita and then back at me “…are we clear?”
I speak before Akita does “…let’s just get this done.”
This back and forth between them is wearing my patience thin. Twice during our trip here I had to break up their heated arguments. The hiss of shifting hydraulics fills the air as the lights above and ahead of us go from green to red. I pull my helmet over my head and let the auto-clasp seal it to my suit. All sound temporarily disappears and there is a split second of not being able to breathe. But then the suit’s air filters kick in and what was greasy and oily scented is now clean and fresh. Sound comes to me again but just a little better than muffled. Then the large cargo doors pop out and slide upward and as Maria moves forward, so do I.
********
The team and I follow our guide across the Eversteel deck of the floating docks. There’s barely anyone around and the few we have seen seemed unaware of our existence. The air on this world is very dense but breathable; however, the muck is all around us microscopically. The thickness of this, it is said, is enough to clog a human’s lungs to the point of death within minutes, so I enjoy my filtered air and continue in Maria’s wake.
Across the large platform and toward two, three story structures, I absorb the sights and my conclusion is, that this planet is what hell would be if it were made of mud. The rain slams into us like sheets of iron droplets. I imagine being pelted with this water without a suit; it would definitely be a memorable experience, if I survived to have the memory that is. Finally, I have a reason to appreciate this smelly suit. Its bulk and coarseness has its purpose.
We continue against the sheet rain as the thick, roiling muck beneath us swells and dips like any ocean on Earth. It is a sight I would in no way soon forget. The mountains we had passed only a few minutes ago are now mostly shrouded by low hanging, thick black clouds and the rain is getting worse.
How in the Galaxy can it get worse?
Between the two, three story buildings now, we walk on, and what looks like a construction MAV, sits abandoned beside a row of old iron crates. One of its legs are missing, a pitiful sight; as though it had beating heart, sitting maimed and helpless.
We round a corner and approach a doorway of a third building. Maria motions for Bull to open the dense door and after he turns the locking mechanism with powerful arms, we all trail her inside. In an instant the room illuminates with the glare of red lights, projected from about a dozen or so bulbs in the ceiling.
“Close the door, and for your own good, keep your helmets on.”
Pitbull pulls it shut and turns the lever that locks it. Almost everything here has to be operated manually. There hasn’t been one digital interface up to this point and the reason behind this had made itself clear ever since we set foot on this complex. Maria leads us through another opening and into an elevator. Perpetual muck and rain of this magnitude is no friend to electronics and the heavy moisture here would eventually destroy any form of Digital technology in a short time.
I see why an old bird like the Jamavin would be the perfect ship for its job.
The elevator shoots downward with a gut wrenching lurch and then rapidly slows to a halt. My innards force themselves back into place and the doors slide open. Pacing Maria, we move out of the lift and through another passageway. Our boots echo dully on the floor of the wide, red-lighted corridor and in our silence there is tension. There are questions to be asked and answers I doubt we would get but for the moment, all words remain contained.
Maria takes us to the closed doorway of a room not far from the elevator, then punches in a few security codes on a rubberized keypad, gives her thumb, eyes and voice to the scanner, and the door opens. White light engulfs us as the doors seal shut behind and after squinting for a few seconds, our surroundings become clear. We are in what looks like a class or conference room, filled with chairs and desks, all facing a small platform. On this platform beneath a low ceiling, a narrow, waist high computer console stands like a sleek silver pedestal. Maria immediately goes to work, waking the sleeping system, and then removing five sheets of digital paper from a shelf nearby, she passes them to us. She hits a few keys on a digital keyboard only she can see and the familiar Dee-Scan interface appears on the translucent sheets in our hands.
“Captain..?”
I remove the bag containing the Deepcore Pilot’s Digital Eyes and hand the lenses to her. Then, with anxiety threatening to overtake me, I wait as she places the pair of Dees; face up, on the flat, thin glass plate of the computer’s scanner. As the program is activated, images of the ceiling above us appear on our papers.
“Go back, before the battle on Solace Five, we’re looking for the moment he received his orders.”
I think of “The Man” according to the dead, enemy pilot. I know in my heart that if I find this person, I will find everything. And the computer scans its way back in time and brings with it a group-felt pain.
I watch as the battle that took Terri’s life rewinds before us through the eyes of our opponent. I see him maneuvering after and before Terri’s MAV explodes in a wicked fireball. Buried thoughts and feelings surface, but anger and a drive for vengeance replaces the pain, and yet I find myself blinking back the emotions threatening to overtake me. But the war on the Ice Planet rages on. He is locked in combat with me. It’s strange seeing me in the form of my MAV flying in rewind. But it is over quickly and eventually, the Deepcore pilot is alone and in an underground bunker on Solace Five. A day flies by, and then another, and after two more trips to the bathroom, a desk and holoscreen comes into the picture.
“Slow it down…”
Maria gives me what I want and I wait…but not for long.
“Stop it...”
Everyone’s exclamations merge with mine as we stare into the face of the impossible.
“Play at normal speed…”
The voices grow gradually until the volume is right and the conversation fills the room.
“…No, he won’t stop. I know him and he hasn’t gotten soft, the ambush your men have set up won’t work. This is why I’ve sent you there. If Iron Five is not destroyed on Keden, they must be led to you. The Light Mecha would be no match for a Cyclone and this way, there will be no questions or investigations into the matter. Kill them all and get to Keden. Lock it down. Take the Cyclones, none can match them. Keden will fall and then Earth will follow. You must not fail and do not delay…”
“Pause it Maria…”
Terrier’s face stares into mine. Words escape me. The world makes no sense. Everyone remains speechless until Akita swears, breaking the dumfounded silence. I suspect now why Hawk wanted the pilot interrogated on Rouna and us to have no contact with him. The General must have been in on it. Who else could have sent the assassins?
“Can somebody tell me what’s going on?”
“I don’t know Hound…”
I’m still searching the recesses of my mind for clues; anything that might have been an overlooked warning sign.
“Why the hell is Terri giving orders to kill us?”
Akita answers Hound with a question of his own “Why would he want the downfall of Keden and Earth?”
Bull answers “Whatever this is, it’s a mess and we’ve become expendable and the funny thing is…none of us knows why…”
“Let’s take this one step at a time…” Everyone turns to me now “…we know that those Deepcore Heavies on Keden were sent to lure us into a trap and destroy us. The question is, why? The answer was, according to our prisoner, to remove the obstacle. So we know that we were a hindrance to whatever plans they had.”
The thought of my brother becoming my enemy in such a short space of time, cuts deep. Everyone nods in agreement
“…the second question was, who is this ‘Man’ that Captain Hiram was talking about, and now we know it was Terri. As for General Hawk, we don’t know for sure where he fits into all of this but those were Earthfront assassins that attacked us on Rouna and after the way we were treated there, it is safer to assume that he is behind this, at least until we gather more information. There is something else too. Deepcore somehow stabbed them in the back…”
“How do you figure this?” Maria asks
“…The pilot we captured told us that he was ordered by “The Man” to kill us. He also said that he worked for him, but when I asked what Deepcore’s intentions on Keden were, he said, to protect it…”
Maria again “Protect it from..?”
Pitbull now “From “The Man”, I remember.”
“So then…” Hound jumps in “Terrier was not supposed to die on Solace, but they killed him anyway.”
“Exactly…” I continue “…and the unrest on Keden must have been deliberately provoked by Earthfront…”
Hound cuts in “Then that means…the Earthfront fleet that’s headed to Keden is not a helping hand…”
“No…it’s a full scaled invasion…”
Pitbull’s words send shivers up my neck. I retrieve the Dees and store them once more
“The Kedenian Government and Deepcore must have discovered Earthfront’s plans and so united against a common enemy. We need to get to the hangar. There’s not much time.”
“Huski..?”
I turn to Maria. It is the first time she has ever addressed me by this name
“…Does it make a difference if you go to Keden now? I mean…”
“Iron Five is headed to Keden…you may go where ever you choose from here. But right now, it’s where we need to be.”
“I didn’t mean it that way…I’m just looking at it realistically…”
“Maria…”
Every second wasted here seems to add a few pounds to my shoulders
“…Get us to the hangar.”
“Wait…” She hits a few more buttons and a hidden shelf on the wall opens “…we will need these.” She spins on her heel, walks toward the exposed shelves and then back to us. She looks up at me and opens her palms and in them, are five pairs of brand new, still-sealed-in-plastic, Digital Eyes.
“Unregistered Dees…you will need these.”
“Does this mean that you’re now a part of Iron Five?”
“I have nowhere to go and I definitely am not going back to Rouna…”
I take a pair from her and the rest of the guys follow. After a bit of fuss and cheering over getting them in place and seeing everything more clearly again, we all follow Maria through a hidden doorway, along a few corridors and down a very long ramp.
********
Five minutes later, we enter a vast room made up of dense Eversteel walls, and a perfectly flat floor and roof. The place lights up and relief...joy…or is it hope..? Maybe all three…etch a ridiculous smile across my face. Ten MAVs, I count them again just to make sure, all standing in line not far away. I have never seen anything like them; similar to the one we fought on Solace Five but remarkably different.
“What kind of MAV’s are these?”
Pitbull’s voice echo’s eerily across the hangar.
Maria walks toward the closest one and runs a tender hand along the sleek frame of the sleeping machine.
“These are not MAV’s…” She turns to us “…They are Dynamic Automated War Gear…DAWGs.”
This is too good to be true and after a moment of gathering our thoughts, we all break out in stupid grins.
“I knew you’d like it…” She’s grinning too.
“Dogs…” I get her attention “…perfect…”
“These are the Galactic Nine’s response to Earthfront’s Cyclone project.”
“I’ve never even heard of the Cyclones before that pilot mentioned them…how…”
“Not everyone who works for Earthfront belongs to Earthfront, Captain.” Her eyes tell me that she knows a lot more than any ordinary pilot should.
“Who are you?”
She smiles “The proper question would be; what do I do for the Galactic Nine?”
“So how can you be a part of us, if you still work for the Nine?”
Maria glances toward Hound “I am a freelanced Tech-head. I maintain, prepare and repair computer systems, test fly, design programs, program, and re-program anything that needs to be. Whenever they are in need of my expertise, I’m there, the pay is good and the benefits are…well, you can see for yourself.”
You said that it’s a response..? I thought Earth and the Galactic Nine worked hand in hand?”
She turns to Akita “You surprise me Neil…”
I cut in and Akita refrains from whatever it is that he was about to say “…Are they better than the Cyclones?”
“Based on our tests, both virtual and physical…no…the Cyclones are technologically more advanced however, a machine is only as good as its pilot.”
“Well said…”
I touch the mechanical monster now. Its skin is strange, rubbery but as solid as metal, almost reflective, almost chrome but not quite. I have seen it before, back in the day while training on Rouna. Not in reality but virtually. Still, I am curious to know if I’m right.
“What is this tech? It’s not Reflective Regen…”
“It’s not. This is Lizard Skin Technology…”
“I’ve heard of that…” Pitbull joins us. “…Takes the color and patterns of its immediate surroundings, but not as effectively as Reflective Regen.”
“It might not be as effective but it gets the job done…”
Hound chimes in “Is the Camo automatic?”
“Yes it is…”
As she says this it becomes clear to me, that the reason for the machine’s almost chrome appearance is that the floor, walls and roof of this place are the same color. Its legs are based on the T-Rex design which simply means that its legs are fashioned after those of the king of dinosaurs.
“Let’s see if they work…” I turn to Maria “Open this one...”
Opening to a holo-console nearby, her fingers slide through a sequence of digital keys and a high pitched sound builds until it surrounds us. Then in a matter of seconds, the DAWG next to me hums as it becomes active.
“This is awesome…”
Hound is obviously excited, but I choose to remain calm. I need to see these things work before I celebrate. With a loud hiss, the front of the machine splits in half and slides apart on either side. I walk around it to getter a better view as what appears to be a man shaped gurney, hangs vertically between the two open halves. Then all motion stops, leaving nothing more than a whirring hum.
Maria motions to me where to get a flight suit and I move quickly to grab one. I’m extremely glad to finally get out of this bulky and funky smelling getup from the Jamavin, which by-the-way, takes forever to get out of, but eventually I break free. Careful to keep the Mecha between me and Maria, I strip to my underwear and let the new flight suit slide onto my skin. The motion is smooth and almost refreshing.
I’ll need a bath soon.
“Remember…” Her thick accent echoes “…these are not MAV’s. There is no pilot’s seat. You are the machine. Whatever you do, it will do so let the interface take you and don’t fight it.”
Let the interface take me? Don’t fight it? What the hell is this thing?
After stowing the Deepcore Dees in my new suit, I walk carefully toward the cockpit and between its two open halves. The man-shaped elevator-gurney-thing is more like a vertical metal sleeping cot covered with memory-cell material. There are no wires, computer screens or interfaces, just thin strips of blue light that outline its edges and the like. It is awkward but I step onto the slightly angled seat, if I can call it that, and lean back into it. The memory-cell padding adjusts to my body shape and weight with ease and thoughts of sleep threaten to overwhelm me. It’s as comfortable as any plush bed I’ve ever slept on.
“Captain, are you ready?”
Maria’s shout sounds distant. My nerves are overtaking me
“…Yeah!”
The gears around me hiss again. She must be running the startup sequence. My head is sucked onto the headrest and prickly needling fingers pass through my helmet and into my head, my brain…my mind. At least that’s what it feels like. The initial invasion of my thoughts is frightening but I go against all natural reactions and relax, letting the machine take me.
“Close the cockpit Captain!”
This is weird
I do as she says, the only way I can think how, and before the thought even registers clearly, the two open halves of the cockpit slide shut and while they do, my memory-cell cot-thing lifts me up and into the so called cockpit.
Darkness surrounds me. It is as though I am being pressurized and wedged into place. My legs become bent at the knees and for the moment, I am actually in a sitting position…or a squatting position…at least I think so…I’m not sure. A split second, needle stabbing pain passes through the back of my eyes as my Dees connect with the machine and they Sync up. The onboard computer links to my suit and the merger is mind twisting. Like electric ants inside my skull, the tiny ripples of energy tickle my scalp from the inside with a pinch here and tingle there. After a few seconds that feel like an hour, the mild torture ends and I become one with my DAWG.
“…Maria…”
“Yeah..?”
“Am I moving with the machine, or is this all in my head? Cause if I’m moving with it, I’m gonna get tired pretty soon.”
She laughs “It’s all in your head Huski. The computer and your mind are now one. Whatever relevant command you think, the machine will do it. Your physical actions are for basic movements only. But don’t fight it…go with the flow…”
“I can live with that. What about weapons for this thing?”
“We’ll load up after you both get to know each other…”
The large hangar is now visible to me and I turn my head to see what is in this direction, and then the other. What’s funny about all of this is that I’m standing, yet I feel completely at ease. I look at the other Mecha sitting on their haunches nearby and notice that there is no cockpit glass. It hits me that where I am at the moment is more like a sealed, metal coffin; definitely not the place to be if you’re claustrophobic.
“Guys…” Maria’s words come clearly to me, as though she is literally in my ear. “Suit up and pick a DAWG…”
The rest of the team grabs their new flight gear and gladly discard the old ones. Akita is the only of the group who changes his suits in plain sight but to my amusement, Maria refuses to look his way. I think of my weapons systems and in front of me, appearing in transparent but very visible outlines are modules for missiles and guns. I’m currently unarmed but the computer gives me hundreds of options relating to missile types and ammunitions, load out options and what to do with them.
“Iron Five…”
The name slaps me with the hard truth of Terrier never being a part of us again. But these memories and emotions have no place on the battlefield. If I want closure in this mess, then I would achieve this by not getting the rest of my team killed.
Maria comes over the comms again “I’m going to have to get us all in sync so the computers can recognize and respond to each other without any problems, so close your cockpits and wait for me…”
The sounds of whirring and whines fill the manmade cavern as Akita, Hound and Pitbull become one with their Gear. My mouth is dry. I have not had anything to drink since the tainted mineral water given to us onboard the Jamavin, but I ignore the thirst and turn my head in order to look at Maria. Her back is what I see. She is busy at the console doing her thing and even in her non-appealing flight suit, she’s still attractive.
I continue to watch when she leaves the computer and head off to grab a flight suit. At this point I know that we are all watching and I’m pretty sure she knows too.
“Perverts…”
Maria leaves the room after accusing us and enters a changing area nearby. The collective protests from the guys make me laugh, however…with a thought, I see her through the metal walls, but quickly change from it as I focus on something else. The speed with which this thing processes thought and information and action is unreal. I will have to be careful while I get used to it.
In about a minute, the now pony-tailed woman emerges from the change room and walks toward one of the DAWGs nearby. Her body is perfectly outlined in her form fitting flight suit…I see why Akita was and is so struck, then she steps into the cockpit seat thing in front of her and after a few seconds, disappears into the machine.
“Had a good look?”
There is no crackle of static over my com, just her voice as though in my head, as clear as crystal. This is awkward. Did she know that I peeked? But I didn’t. I looked away as soon as the thought crossed my mind and I realized that the computer had granted the unintended wish.
“What…an outline of a translucent you and your ten million muscles and veins..? No, it wasn’t a good look.”
It’s Akita. I should have known.
“You’ll never change…”
“Why change a good thing?”
I cut into their little back and forth “Okay guys, let’s get synced. Maria, do your thing.”
With a jolt and a zillion images flashing past my Dees, we all merge in computerized minds and bodies. The Neural Link on these machines is similar to what I am accustomed to but larger and of more depth. How this is possible, I have no idea, but it goes beyond feeling the rest of the team…I am the team.
“Hey Maria..?”
“Yes Dachshund...?”
“…Ever owned a dog…a real dog?”
Everyone laughs with that last part and we all wait for the answer that will determine Maria’s call sign.
“…not on Rouna, but on Earth when I was a little girl, we had a Great Dane…”
“Fellas…”
It’s Hound again
“…Maria, new call sign, Great Dane, welcome to Iron five. Owwooooo..!”
The howling erupts across the comms and I join in. I hear Maria laughing in the background and then she attempts to add to the noise.
“You guys are crazy…”
I answer “That we are…”
“Alpha..?” Bull’s voice comes plainly to me. “…when do we get our ammo?”
“Dane..?”
I wait for her response. The name works perfectly.
“The holding slots across from us. We stand in place there and select our arsenal, but one thing at a time. Let’s see how well you Earthfront boys do with Galactic Nine technology.”
We all scoff at this. Instinctively, I stand from my sitting position and feel the Mecha lift itself from the floor. I am thirty five feet above ground according to my Dees and as I look to the left, unlike my Earthfront MAV, I see a robotic arm moving with my own as I flex, push and pull it physically. The mechanized arm is like its counterpart, extending from a metal elbow with forearms in the form of heavy hitting Tricada Vulcan Auto-cannons. Tricada, according to the info on my Dees, is the leading weapons development company under the Galactic Nine; The GN’s equivalent to the Tex’s Auto-cannon.
I take a few steps. They are clumsy at first but I quickly develop a rhythm. Whatever I do with my body and mind, the machine copies it. It’s like wearing mechanized body armor.
I love it.
********
It has been an hour now since my first step in my new Mecha but now, we are all standing in our flight suits, outside of the DAWGs once again. The last half hour ha