Rao had made some headway in his study of hollow-drive technology, but it was slow going. He theorized that the device used a gravitational lens to distort the fabric of space, warping probability and producing a fountain of exotic particles at its center. It basically generated a near-infinite supply of energy out of thin air. Or maybe it sucked power out of another dimension, or out of magical pixy farts for all he knew.
That power came at the price of durability. The slightest crack in the hollow-drive’s casing would cause it to self-destruct and collapse in on itself, rendering it permanently useless. There was no repairing it or salvaging its remains. There was no way to take it apart and study its insides. A hollow-drive was either whole and functioning, or destroyed beyond all recognition.
They were designed that way to prevent the Nefrem from replicating the technology, but it had drawbacks the designers hadn’t foreseen.
The forty-three minute trip passed in tense silence, and then the bright blue Earth appeared and filled the bridge crew’s view. The Phoenix had already arrived ahead of them.
Legacy briefly flashed a memory through Marcus’ head of the Earth—Garden, as she still called it—eons ago when she first arrived. The planet’s beauty hadn’t dimmed at all with age, and it was a precious, shining gem among a cold and distant universe.
The silence was filled with prayers. The crew were in the presence of something divine, something that still had the power to take their breath away and inspire their imaginations. In a few moments, they were going to stain it with blood.
Marcus floated higher into the air, took a deep breath and spoke. As he did, his voice echoed through every inch of Legacy, as well as the many smaller ships contained within her. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome home.”
The glowing Earth filled his eyes. “We stand on a precipice; victory is finally within our grasp, yet the possibility of failure still haunts us. Let this be a moment of quiet reflection before the storm. We look into our hearts for the strength to steel our resolve, and make our will unassailable. Our fury unstoppable. In just a few minutes, we will descend through the heavens and bring fire down upon the enemy. We will crush him where he stands and strike a blow for freedom, and through this conflict forge a new destiny from our blood, sweat and tears. Here above the clouds, I can finally see one thing clearly, and you should see it too. We are the future, a new humanity, and the time has come for us to take back our world. So I ask you, are you ready?”
The rally cry of fifteen-hundred eager soldiers echoed back, and Marcus smiled.
“Mason, transmit on all known frequencies.”
“Ready, sir.”
“Attention alien invaders. This is Marcus Donovan, commander of the Eireki starship Legacy. Make peace with your gods. End transmission.”
“Channel closed, sir.”
The rapid assault carriers emerged from the hangar bay and descended toward the planet with Faulkland’s Phoenix trailing behind.
Legacy spun, took aim and spat out the five Hoplite troop transports, which streaked out and became shooting stars as they touched the upper atmosphere.
The dice were cast. There was nothing left but to watch, wait and pray.
Hoplite Alpha tore through the stratosphere at several times the speed of sound. The hexagonal pod glowed white-hot, but the chamber inside was comfortable and quiet. A hundred soldiers were packed inside, shoulder to shoulder in rows facing outward, each encased in MASPEC Mk-2 armor. The suits were the color of dried blood, except for the clear half-domes of their helmets.
The Mk-2 was a more elegant and refined design, which stripped away the rough edges and mechanical look of the original, and replaced them with a more biological, rounded appearance. The new model incorporated a host of Eireki technologies that improved on human technology in every conceivable way, making the armor smaller, more agile and nearly three times as strong.
Amira Saladin had literally outdone herself. As her drop pod rapidly approached the ground, she hoped it was enough.
The Hoplite’s gravitic accelerator came to life at the last possible moment, slowing the pod as it met the ground, and giving the soldiers little more than a soft jostle. The vessel’s walls rotated outward and its canopy lifted, transforming it into an instant fort. Guns mounted atop it opened fire, their loud roar filling the air.
The walls finished reconfiguring and revealed the world outside in the dim light of early morning. The ground was scorched and covered in still smoking cinders, and a few hundred meters beyond lay the jagged line of alien outposts.
Her docking clamp released with a clank, and Sal prepared herself.
“You ready?” Kazuo asked beside her.
She grabbed her long Nikola rifle from its storage hook overhead, and said, “Let’s do this.”
The rapid assault carriers above fired fighter jets out like bullets, while armored soldiers streamed out of the Hoplite and into the smoking field. Once outside, the MASPEC troopers split into squads and advanced in leaps and bounds, assisted by small thrusters on armor’s back and legs. Their movements had a strange grace, and combined with their choreographed advances, the rush became a ballet.
Sal and Kazuo led the pack, bracing themselves at each landing before firing their rifles into the alien horde. The weapons ejected heavy metal rounds at nearly five kilometers a second, and hit their targets like tank shells. Soft targets were torn into arcing ribbons and mist, while hard targets buckled and shattered under the impact.
It only took a few moments for the aliens to react to the new threat, and their shining metallic shields slid around to protect them, but by then, the MASPEC troopers were among them and engaged in hand-to-hand.
In her armor, Sal felt unstoppable. She’d become a war machine, an angry titan, faster than the small furry aliens, better armored than the large grey ones, and stronger than anything else in the field. The aliens mobbed her but she plodded on with grim determination, feeling bones crunch beneath her armored fists, while Kazuo battled nearby with considerably more zeal.
Meter by meter, her squad thrashed through the opposition, littering the ground with shredded corpses. It wasn’t long before the enemy building was cleared, and they took the roof, gaining an open line of fire on their entrenched enemy.
Operations were carried out with surgical precision all along the perimeter, and the battle line was broken. Squads of MASPEC troopers stormed the forts, while their protean jets clashed with alien craft overhead. The Phoenix and its coterie of assault carriers hung in the air just above the Ark, raining down beams of burning energy on whatever remained.
With a thought, a tube on Sal’s shoulder launched a bright green flare into the air, signaling an all clear at her position. Then she and her squad hunkered down behind the battlements and opened fire.
Jack and his team sat atop a low ridge more than two kilometers out beyond the line. Human and Oikeyan alike watched the battle from relative safety, filled with disappointment, sadness and hopelessness. The one thing Jack was sure of was that he’d failed. The thought turned his stomach.
The arrival of strange warships and armored soldiers left them all baffled.
“You’re even better than I thought,” Kai said. “I really believed you didn’t have a fleet.” He trailed off with his weird laugh.
“We didn’t,” Jack said. “I don’t know who they are. Are those Nefrem forces?”
“No. I mean, there’s a resemblance but it’s superficial. Whoever they are, they’re good, though. Very, very good.”