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  After another ten minutes, he stumbled and fell to his knees.

  “Okay, okay, stop it,” he muttered. “You’ll kill yourself.”

  A vibration in the floor told him he had to get up and find cover fast. It was an effort borne of pure willpower to get to his feet, stagger a few meters until he reached a crack in the tunnel wall big enough for him to fit in, then duck inside that crack just as a wave of xenos streamed through the tunnel, carbine-armed tentacles waving in the air.

  Not the first time he’d had to do the duck-and-hide routine. Since fleeing the underground city, he’d dodged being detected by more waves of xenos than he could count. Thousands upon thousands were heading in every direction. It didn’t matter what branch he took, eventually he was jamming himself into a crack to keep from being found.

  Just one more factor added to the long list of reasons to puke.

  He counted to thirty and crept slowly from the crack, kneeling so he could feel the ground. No vibrations. The wave was far enough ahead, and no new one was coming, that Shock felt safe to proceed. Or as safe as he could feel under the circumstances.

  After what had to be another kilometer of hiking, Shock came to yet one more branch. Except one of the branches had a slight incline to it. He almost rejected that branch since his first thought was that was exactly the way the wave of xenos went, but as he inspected the dirt, he could easily see they proceeded to the right. The ground to the left wasn’t disturbed at all.

  Shock debated for about three seconds then took the branch and started to climb.

  After ten meters the tunnel narrowed and it was obvious it was not a route used often. Roots hung down from the ceiling and bulged from the walls. A trickle of water cut a line down the center of the tunnel and the muck around it showed zero signs of having been disturbed. Shock doubted that even a single xeno had come that way in years, maybe even longer.

  He kept moving, the tunnel narrowing further until he was almost beginning to hunch over. With his head ducked low, Shock found himself faced with a curtain of heavy vines. Very heavy vines.

  He tried pushing them to the side to get through, but they were tangled and woven together so much that he could barely manage to get a gloved hand through a gap. Shock pulled a utility knife from his belt and began to hack away at the vines.

  Fifteen minutes later and he had made some progress, but not much. He plopped down on his ass to rest, feeling no reason not to. He was boxed in. If xenos showed up, it didn’t matter if he was standing or sitting; there was nowhere for him to go. And it wasn’t like he could do much with a utility knife.

  His head snapped forward and he gasped as he scrambled to his feet. He’d fallen asleep. A quick check of his helmet display said he was only out for about ten minutes.

  “Jesus Christ,” he snapped. “Idiot. You can’t waste time like that.”

  His self-admonishment made him think of Giga giving him shit and he smiled.

  “Okay, no more breaks,” he said and began hacking at the vines once more.

  Another fifteen minutes later and he was squeezing through a gap that threatened to shear off his battle armor. But he made it through and fell to his hands and knees on the other side. No time to congratulate himself. The only reward he got was to open his helmet and breathe some fresh air for a few seconds before sealing the faceplate again. Better safe than sorry. Shock got to his feet and held out the utility knife as he turned in a circle.

  Vine-covered tunnel opening behind him, fairly dense forest everywhere else.

  Different than the jungle they’d landed in. The trees were much taller and looked coniferous with long, skinny needles that fluttered in the slight breeze that drifted through the trees.

  Shock consulted his helmet. Off to the right was the direction for the LZ except he had no idea how far away it was. The fact he was in an obviously different biome was not giving him much confidence he was going to see his people anytime soon. But it was a strange planet, so maybe he was only a hike across some foothills away.

  That’s what he told himself as he started walking once again.

  2.

  Servos protested, but Chomps managed to get her arms under her and push up to a kneeling position. Her cockpit hatch was more a suggestion than a reality, and she stared out through the mangled frame at the grasslands beyond. No signs of the waves of xenos. They either didn’t see where she fell or didn’t care.

  Chomps would have placed a bet on the latter.

  With the dense forest behind her, she doubted the xenos were going to try pushing through the woods when they could make better time by going around. Or they went back underground and travelled via whatever subterranean highways they had down there.

  Part of her actually considered finding an opening and taking a look. Not like it was any more dangerous than where she was at that moment. It had quickly become evident that the entire planet was a deathtrap. Yes, the Dorso should not have been sent to Hrouska first, but it wasn’t like the Jethro was fairing much better.

  Chomps came to her senses, and instead of looking for a tunnel entrance, she got to her feet and turned to face the forest. Tall trees, heavy with long needles that tinkled in the breeze coming off the grasslands. They actually tinkled like tiny ornaments on a holiday spruce or fir back on Earth.

  Before taking the plunge into the gloom of the forest, Chomps ran diagnostics on her mech. Her arm joints were damaged, but still useable. Legs were fine and the rest of her structure seemed sound. Except for the cockpit hatch, of course.

  She redirected power to her arms and stretched them out again and again, assessing what damage was where. Left elbow was stiff and showed signs of freezing up if put under too much pressure. Right shoulder was at ninety-percent range of motion while left shoulder was at one hundred percent. Left wrist was good, right wrist was good, but the right arm’s upper main pistons kept sticking and Chomps knew that wasn’t going to get better.

  She checked power levels and was pleasantly surprised to see her cells were at seventy-five percent. She brought up her display, which she rerouted and projected against the part of the cradle next to her head instead of the cockpit hatch. All she had to do was glance left and she could see all the readings she needed.

  Her location showed her as over one hundred kilometers from the LZ. Comms were still shot. And she had zero armaments. No KYAG anywhere. She opened the panel on her thigh and pulled out a shock wand, but it wasn’t much good to her if she faced even a fraction of the numbers of xenos she’d just witnessed. She put the wand back.

  “Time to walk,” she said and found a gap between the trees large enough for her to get the mech through.

  That was the trick. Getting her huge machine between the trees. It was a dense forest. Not as dense as the jungle by the LZ, but the trees were much thicker and much stronger. The jungle had trees she could shove to the side. The trees she now navigated around weren’t so giving.

  Chomps felt like she spent half her time backtracking to find different routes when faced with a wall of trees that no matter how much she pushed against them absolutely refused to bend or break. But, she persevered and didn’t stop trying. Her patience was rewarded after about ten more kilometers of hiking. The density began to lessen and openings within the stands of trees grew wider and wider.

  The clearings were still well within the forest. Not meadows, but simply areas where the ground was coated in a thick carpet of needles and the trees surrounding towered overhead, blocking a good amount of light from even reaching the forest floor.

  Chomps was not thrilled that she was only reaching that part of the forest after checking her display to see she’d been hiking for a good thirty kilometers. If the forest was anything even approximating an Earth forest, that meant it was massive. She guessed she had at least another thirty kilometers to go, if not more. With the slow progress she was making, it would be nightfall before she got even close to the far side.

  But, she had no choice except to keep go
ing. Getting back to the LZ was the priority.

  ***

  “Can we give them orbital cover?” Parveet asked. “Talk to me, Stegson.”

  “I’ve been calculating, but I’m not sure, Boss,” Stegson replied. “I’d like to think we could, but if we hit the surface too close to the LZ, we’ll generate a micro-EMP and fry their energy defenses. With comms still down, I can’t coordinate with Morisaki on the ground.”

  “I’m still working on comms, Boss,” Wan said.

  “I know you are,” Parveet said.

  “I have Stony and his crew on it,” Wan said. “He’s tasking techs with retrofitting probes to become relays for a new set of channels.”

  “How will our people down there know what channels to use?” Parveet asked.

  “We’ll have to drop a probe right on them,” Wan said. “That’s the main flaw in the plan. Probes don’t have landing thrusters or gear. It’ll create a bit of a crater when it hits.”

  “That’s quite a flaw,” Parveet said. “Overcome it.”

  “Already trying,” Wan said.

  “Axson? Lucky? Flay? What do you have for me?” Parveet asked.

  “We’re debating taking the Jethro down there,” Lucky said.

  “No, you are not,” Parveet said. “I don’t want to land this ship on Hrouska, even if Stony gets the engines fixed.”

  “No, not land,” Axson said. “Just put it through the atmosphere so we can drop the Dorso on that army of xenos.”

  Parveet paused. “Okay, you have my interest. Talk.”

  “We aren’t sure it can be done,” Lucky said, holding up a cautious hand. “But the idea is we stay tethered to the Dorso, use it as a heat shield under us as we drop through the atmosphere.”

  “It’ll heat the Dorso up like a meteor,” Axson said. “The ship is not designed for planetary landings, and with the state it’s in, it’ll become a red hot bomb of pure metal alloy.”

  “Which you want the Jethro to be connected to?” Parveet asked.

  “Not for long,” Lucky said. “Flay?”

  Flay sighed. “I’ve been running the calculations, and I think I can put us into the right trajectory that will allow the Jethro to detach before we penetrate the stratosphere. Even with compromised engines, we would have enough power to get back up into orbit with minimal damage to the Jethro.”

  “Minimal damage? Define,” Parveet said.

  “We’d lose engine function again, but it would be repairable,” Flay said. “As long as Axson can keep the Jethro steady and not deviate from the calculations.”

  “I can do that,” Axson responded without hesitation. “Not a problem.”

  “I know you have the confidence, but what over-under are we looking at?” Parveet asked.

  “None,” Flay said. “That’s our main flaw. In order not to drop with the Dorso, or get torn apart as we curve back into orbit, Axson cannot deviate. We’re talking a tenth of a degree. Any more and we might as well set the Jethro down and take off from the surface.”

  “Which brings us back to the no part of my end,” Parveet said. “Keep working. I want an over-under. A tenth of a degree is not acceptable.”

  “Boss, I’m running the numbers and I can’t find an over-under,” Flay said.

  “Then we shelf that plan as a last resort,” Parveet said. “What else do you have for me?”

  No one responded.

  “Jay?”

  Parveet looked over her shoulder at Torn.

  “Not now,” Parveet barked.

  “You may want to make it now,” Torn said. “A second, please?”

  “Not now,” Parveet barked.

  “Now,” Torn insisted, refusing to back down.

  “Bee, I will have you removed from my bridge and your diplomatic privileges purged from the Jethro’s system,” Parveet warned. “I’d rather my people work on the crisis at hand, but I’ll take the time to kick your ass back to your cabin if I have to.”

  “Jay, I can help,” Torn said. “I can bring in reinforcements.”

  “You can…what?” Parveet asked, fully turning to face the ambassador. “What the hell are you talking about? Reinforcements? From where? It’d take a week minimum for ships to get to us from SBE.”

  “I’m not talking about SBE,” Torn said and stood her ground.

  Parveet waited, but Torn didn’t offer any more information.

  “Jesus,” Parveet growled. “Lucky? You have the con while I go waste time that I cannot afford to waste talking to the spoiled brat.”

  “On it, Boss,” Lucky said.

  Parveet got up, stormed past Torn, and out of the bridge. Torn followed close behind.

  The passageway outside the bridge had personnel running about so Parveet grabbed Torn by the arm and shoved her into a side room. Techs were going over tablets at a small conference table, but they instantly stood up and vacated the space when they saw the look on Parveet’s face.

  Once the room was empty, Parveet faced Torn, a look of pure rage barely contained on her face.

  “Talk,” Parveet snarled.

  “I need your head to be clear,” Torn said. “I need you to listen with an open mind and truly understand what I am about to tell you.”

  “Bee, if you’d like to live through the next few moments, then I advise you cut the shit and get to explaining,” Parveet responded. “Otherwise, you are going to get shot out an airlock.”

  “I can get you four warships within two days,” Torn said. “As well as two resupply ships.”

  Parveet stared for a long few seconds then shook her head.

  “And the shoe drops,” she said then walked to a chair and sat down. She smacked a palm on the table and glared at Torn. “Sit your ass down and tell me everything.”

  “You’ve suspected I may be here for more reasons than simple self-preservation,” Torn said as she sat. “I know you have, you said as much. While self-preservation has been my number one priority, it is because of a wider, overall plan that has me hiding here on the Jethro.”

  “Yes, I am guessing that,” Parveet said. “No one has access to four warships and two resupply ships without there being a wider, overall plan in place.”

  “Quite a few of the families are tired of the lineage laws on Earth,” Torn said. “They have been working behind the scenes to muster resources in order to create their own alliance.”

  “Hence the ships,” Parveet said. “Go on.”

  “I’m here because we have a connection,” Torn said. “I’m here because in order to do what these families want to do, we need the Jethro. No other ship has the reputation that yours does. With the Jethro behind us, we can take on the UEC.”

  “Take on? Take on how? War?” Parveet asked. “That would be stupid, Bee. The UEC has way more firepower and resources than four warships with a resupply backup.”

  “I didn’t say the families only have four warships,” Torn said. “I said I could get you four warships to come help you.”

  Parveet leaned forward. “Bee? I will only ask this once. You get straight with me or this conversation is over and will never be revisited. What are the resources these families have at their disposal?”

  “I’m not allowed to tell you everything,” Torn said. “But, I know you will smell bullshit a kilometer away, so here it is.”

  Torn took a deep breath.

  “Twenty-six warships, eighteen orbital ships, sixteen resupply ships, and at least fifty smaller vessels,” Torn said. “Not to mention flotillas of barges that are simply holding raw materials for manufacturing.”

  “Holy shit,” Parveet said, looking stunned. “Those are some numbers, Bee. How have they kept those hidden?”

  “They haven’t,” Torn said. “They are UEC ships where the commanders and crews have been slowly co-opted over the years.”

  “You’re talking a coup,” Parveet said.

  “No, not at all,” Torn said. “We are talking secession. A complete split from the UEC to create a new political ent
ity.”

  “Damn,” Parveet said. “What makes you think that I will join this? I’m not a fan of the UEC; they get in my shit too much, but I’m also not looking to completely destroy everything I’ve built.”

  “You, more than anyone I know, should be for this split,” Torn said. “Why do you think your family was wiped out?”

  “I know why my…” Parveet paused. “This has been in the works for that long?”

  “Longer,” Torn said.

  Parveet growled low in her throat and shook her head back and forth.

  “You are tearing my mind apart right when I need to be as solid as I can be,” Parveet said. “This isn’t fair, Bee.”

  “I know, I know,” Torn said.

  “If I agree to go along, which I’m not saying I am yet, what do the families want?” Parveet asked.

  “I’m sorry?” Torn replied. “I told you. They want the Jethro. Your reputation alone will scare the rest of the MEUs into either joining us or backing off.”

  “I get that,” Parveet said. “I figured that out on my own. With twenty-six warships, I know the firepower of the Jethro isn’t needed. Influence with the other MEU commanders is my cash. But what I’m asking is what do the families want? End game want?”

  “Oh, that,” Torn said. “Isn’t it obvious? Why else would four warships be within only a couple of days travel?”

  Parveet glared then sighed. Then she laughed.

  “Hrouska,” Parveet said.

  “Hrouska,” Torn echoed and nodded.

  “The first truly viable planet and they want to take it for themselves,” Parveet said.

  “No, not for themselves, for everyone,” Torn said. “The family hierarchy will be done away with. We are talking about a true, free system, not a feudal-class system.”

  “In theory,” Parveet said and smirked.

  “Aren’t all politics only theory?” Torn asked.

  “Pretty much,” Parveet said.

  “Boss! We could use you back in here!” Wan called over the comms.