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Bug Hunt, The
Exploring has its mysteries and dangers
by Jeffrey Smith |
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Alfred Davidson dropped to his knees and vomited. The thin greasy soup that had been served for lunch combined with his sensitivity to hyperspace travel had simply been too much to handle. Luckily the DropShip Harpoon had already begun to burn it's way into the system, so it was a relatively simple task to clean up after himself. Had he been ill immediately after the jump, it would have taken at least an hour to collect the floating globules of liquid.
His XO, Sarah Conquest, stuck her head into his cabin with an expression mixing disgust and pity. "We're on target, and we've queried the satellite for a download. By the time we reach turnover we should know a little more."
Davidson gave a weak grin. "We could hardly know less."
Davidson's overstrength mercenary lance had been contracted by the Federated Commonwealth slightly over three months before. The unit's small size, low fees, and ownership of their own Union-class DropShip had apparently made them ideal for a mission that was "Extraordinarily sensitive, but not exceptionally dangerous," according to the recruiter, who had refused to give Davidson any information until they had docked with the JumpShip that would carry them. When he had learned the reason why, he was both fascinated and angry.
During the years before the Age of War, every House had sent exploration JumpShips into every star system within (and some outside) their borders. Although a surprising number of stars were orbited by habitable planets, the majority held nothing but lifeless rocks, useless for anything save mining. Incredible rewards were offered for any vessel that reported an oxygen/nitrogen world suitable for colonization, and the consensus among experts was that every scrap of usable real estate in the Inner Sphere had been located by the fall of the Star League.
The experts were both right and wrong. The Locus, a JumpShip leased by a financial consortium had searched vast swaths of space near what had then been the border of the Draconis Combine in the early 23th Century. Apparently they hoped that any planets they located could be offered to both the Kuritans and Davions, with the highest bidder taking possession. The consortium had struck out, with the JumpShip crew reporting negative results to their employers.
They lied.
A JumpShip en route to what had once been the Smoke Jaguar Occupation Zone had accidentally misjumped to a system near Hanesville. While making minor repairs and recharging their sails, the crew ran a training drill for a pair of new crewmembers. Asked to catalog what could, they had discovered a planet where the system surveys stated that none existed. Razzed for their 'mistake', the captain had repeated the survey to show the newbies how they had erred - and reached the same results.
A team assembled by the New Avalon Institute of Science was prepared to visit the new planet within hours of the report reaching New Avalon, but higher authority decided the scientists needed babysitters. Since both transports and military units were in extremely short supply, Davidson's Disintegrators had been hired for the task.
The larger of the Harpoon's two 'Mech bays was brimming with supplies for the survey. A line of computer terminals was even now manipulating information from the satellite left by the JumpShip that had stumbled across the planet. The friendly green of chlorophyll shone from a trio of monitors, and data was passing at baffling speed across several other. Pacing the Harpoon was the Quest, an old Intruder-class Dropship transporting even more supplies and the majority of the survey team. However, the team leaders had set up shop in the Harpoon due to the insistence of the FedCom military liaison.
Davidson cleared his throat, and when that was ineffective, flashed the ceiling lights twice, getting the attention of a plurality of the scientists. "Alright doctors, I need a landing zone by turnover. Consult with your team and make your decision. You have 90 minutes."
***
The sounds of a thousand species living, reproducing, and dying under the claws of something higher on the food chain was disturbed by the roar of the descending DropShips. The ships slowed and began to hover 500 meters above the scrub. A series of small hatches flickered open on the flanks of the Harpoon, and a dozen squat cylinders began to fall. Within seconds each had deployed a parachute to slow their drop.
At the 200 meter level, a gray mist began to pour from the barrels, combining into a single cloud shortly before reaching the ground. A single turret on the DropShip rotated and fired a volley of LRMs. They had been fitted with crude fuses to detonate them 150 meters from the ground, and 17 of missiles ballistically continued on their path. The three that did not were more than adequate for the task. The force of the detonating Fuel/Air Explosive was enough to jar the mass of both multikilotonne DropShips, and blew down vegetation in a 300 meter radius. The first Federated Commonwealth vessels settled slowly to the new Davion world.
***
Bob Minyard circled the clearing in his Sparrowhawk, glancing at puzzlement at his secondary monitor. While the eggheads played with their toys at basecamp, his fighter had been loaded down with sensors. He had been unsuccessfully sweeping the mountain areas, searching for the magnetic and gravitational anomalies that would indicate large deposits of metals, and had been heading back to basecamp. However, his sensors had twigged hard as he passed over a small clearing, and the reading he was registering was... odd. Only a huge amount of metal should show with such an impact, and the boundaries of this source were sharply defined. Now how do I figure out what's going on without sending the VTOL out this way.
Struck by inspiration, or perhaps by frustration, he started to gain altitude. When he calculated that he had enough, he rolled the fighter in a sharp turn and pointed his nose straight at the mysterious clearing.
Problem: vegetation blocking vision.
Solution: remove vegetation
The Sparrowhawk's nose-mounted lasers blasted away at their target, setting the shrubbery aflame. He throttled back while pulling the craft level, settling into a fuel-conserving orbit while the plants burned. Slowly the smoke and flames cleared. Curiosity swiftly changed into something entirely different. "Base, this is Raptor One. You need to send a patrol out here right away."
***
Every member of the mercenary force (and every scientist that could be physically dragged from their work) faced the podium that had been laboriously dragged from the undersized briefing room to Mech Bay Two. Davidson cleared his throat to silence the scattered conversations. Once he was sure he had everyone's attention, he began.
"First, a reminder on why it is a bad idea to go out in the countryside alone." He used a small remote to activate a computer, which projected an image of a group of men wearing white smocks standing next to some shrubs. "This is the data from Mr. Cyranais' Spider. He was escorting some of your colleagues who were examining an area near the river to the southwest." The image began to move. Three scientists appeared to be digging at the roots of an odd looking tree, while the remaining pair were busy yelling at each other. The 'Mech's microphones had obviously not been engaged, because the only sounds to be heard were the normal background noises that an active BattleMech makes. Simultaneously the heads of all five men jerked up and looked to their left. The Spider's torso rotated to give the pilot a better view of what had disturbed the scientists.
Moving slowly but steadily through the underbrush was the largest animal any of the assembled men and women had ever seen. The first impression was of the ancient Terran reptile Tyrannosaurs Rex, but further examination proved different. The limbs displayed the odd dual joint anatomy of most animals on the planet, and was covered with a dense coat of red fur. Also unlike the extinct creature, this animal was alive and well, and coming right toward them.
The NAIS scientists were some of the brightest men in the Inner Sphere. They made the correct decision - they ran. The Spider interposed itself between the fleeing men and the predator, firing the pair of medium lasers mounted in its chest at the brush in front of the closing beast.
If the intent was to scare the creature off, it failed. With a howl that penetrated the noise of the cockpit, it charged. Although the APC that had picked up the NAIS team up would have easily outdistanced the monster in a straight run, the vehicle was nowhere near as fast in the dense foliage.
The Spider must have realized this. The next pair of lasers stuck the TyrannoApe full in the chest. The scream that came in response was now mingled with pain. The creature's fur burst into flame, and the agony was plain to see in the meter-wide eyes. It abandoned the chase, dragging itself to the riverbank. Just before it was able to reach the water it collapsed, and laboriously dragged itself into the current.
Davidson clicked the remote, freezing the picture. "If you run off by yourselves and get eaten, that's your problem. I've given you the warning, if you ignore it, my rear is covered. Now, for the main reason you were called."
"When we were researching the history of this system, we wondered how the survey crew could have misplaced an entire world. We were running under the assumption that they skipped the system entirely for some reason. That assumption was incorrect." The projection flashed to a new image, of a blackened field. Barely visible under the coating of ash was the unmistakable shape of a Leopard-class DropShip. "What you see before you is the remains of the DropShip Python. We sent a recovery team to the wreckage to find out how a human spacecraft ended up on a world no human had ever visited. They managed to recover quite a few records, including the ship's log"
"Apparently when the JumpShip Locus scanned this system during their survey, they immediately identified this planet as life bearing. According to the contract they has signed before the survey sweep began, they were entitled to 40% of whatever profits resulted from discovered planets."
"They got greedy."
"After finishing their sweep and reporting failure, they returned to the system to run a quick survey. They planned, just like the company that had hired them, to sell the location to the highest bidder. The JumpShip left a landing party here, and went off to gather supplies and equipment."
"They never returned."
"The crew of the Python assumed that the vessel misjumped and was destroyed. After the survey was complete the JumpShip was to undergo a refit, but it had been placed on hold in order to 'stake their claim' to the planet. Those left on the planet had few tools, minimal supplies, and no means to contact help. Although we've run sweeps in a two hundred klick radius around the DropShip wreckage, we haven't found any signs of human life. It does not appear that they were able to survive. For the moment, it looks like we're the only humans on the planet."
That assumption, too, would prove to be incorrect.
***
Robert Cyranais slapped himself lightly on the cheek in an effort to remain awake. Exploring strange new worlds wasn't as exciting as he'd hoped it would be. Sure, the fact that he was visiting a world that few men had ever seen was thrilling in it's own way, but watching a bunch of overeducated geeks dig around in the dirt like children at the playground was not exactly holding his attention.
It took all of his willpower to keep concentrating on his sensors, but he knew from experience that the fauna on this world was far from docile. He amused himself by making adding sarcastic comments to the gestures the scientific team made. As one gestured to a plant to one of her colleagues, he muttered to himself in a perky voice "Hey, look, a BUSH! Isn't it exciting?! Wow, I'm sure glad we came all the way here instead of going to the horticulture center on New Avalon!" He groaned and stretched in his cockpit, counting the minutes until he could insist the surveyors return.
Cyranais idly glanced at the treeline just in time to see a dozen camouflaged men step out. The intruders shouted something at the scientists and brandished their pulse rifles. Cyranais jolted upright in his couch and began to target the infantry as two BattleMechs crashed through the foliage. The lead 'Mech, an Archer, stepped between the Spider and the foot soldiers while a Stinger aimed at the hostages. A voice boomed out from the Archer. "Surrender immediately or all of these people die. Dismount from your 'Mech. You have fifteen seconds."
Cyranais flicked on his radio to send a mayday and was greeted with the harsh squeal of jamming. He gritted his teeth - without any support, he could hardly take on 'Mech more than twice as large as his, and that did not even count probably fate of the hostages if he resisted. I have no choice. "Alright, alright! I'm coming out! Don't fire!"
With one hand he powered down the 'Mech, while the other manipulated a small knob mounted near the ejection mechanism. Opening a panel, he pressed his thumb down on a large blue button, causing a green light to begin flashing. Removing a pen from the compartment, he resealed the hidden door. Placing the pen in his shirt pocket, he opened his cockpit and began to dismount from his 'Mech.
***
The prisoners were herded out of the covered hovertruck which had brought them to the cave. Cyranis counted at least two dozen men with weapons pointed at the group. They were shoved toward a large door at the end of the entryway, but an image drawn on the walls stopped Cyranis in his tracks, earning him a kick in the back. That symbol... ohhhh CRAP.
The survey team was forced into long hall roughly shaped from what was obviously a natural cavern. Each was forced to his or her knees in front of a iron ring fused to the rock. There, the chains hobbling their arms were threaded through the hole, preventing them from moving more than a foot in any direction. After they were all secured, the officer in charge of the detachment signaled someone with his radio. An older, gray bearded man entered through a door set in the south wall. He wore shorts and a T-shirt, and his left arm was horribly scarred. Robert Cyranis' anxiety level shot up when he noticed that, and his worse fears were realized when the man spoke.
"My name is Wilson Gilman. Perhaps you've heard of me?"
They all had. Gilman had led the famed mercenary unit The Destruction Society for a decade before a minor contract dispute with the Federated Commonwealth had gotten ugly - very ugly. By the time the dust settled The Destruction Society had been blacklisted and ten thousand people had died. The scars on Gilman's arm were courtesy of an inferno round that nearly breached his cockpit as what remained of his unit fled Stratford after taking 40% casualties from the planetary militia, 3rd FedCom RCT, and two lances of Com Guards from the planetary capital. They had vanished for a year, then began launching destructive raids against Davion worlds in a seventy light year sphere centered roughly on Greely. Years of effort by the Federated Commonwealth had utterly failed to eradicate the destructive pirate band.
"Now, I'm going to say this once, and once only. You will answer all my questions immediately and truthfully. If you do not, you will be shot, and I will ask the next person."
A scientist with more intestinal fortitude than intelligence raised his head defiantly. "This is barbaric. I demand you release us immediately!"
A short, dumpy man near Gilman casually raised a gun and blew his head to paste. Cynaris identified him as Gabriel Landin - 2nd in command of the pirates and, if rumors were true, one of the most sadistic men in the Inner Sphere. Gilman glanced at him in mild irritation, and asked "Does anyone else have any criticism?" Silence was the only response.
He nodded. "Good." Scanning the prisoners, he singled out the only MechWarrior of the bunch.
Coming over to Cynaris, he squatted near the chained MechWarrior. "Well my friend, I can see you are a mercenary warrior, like myself. You should feel no exceptional loyalty to your employer, and even if you did, I'm sure you understand that defiance will only slow us, not stop us, and that your death helps no one. So I have a few questions for you. How did you come to know of this lovely world?"
The adrenalin coursing through his body sped Cynaris's heart rate and thought processes. If they know the truth, they'll know that we have no chance of reinforcement. The Destruction Society has two regiments as of the last sighting. I have to buy my friends time, make Fat Boy here a little nervous. "Two months ago a Davion merchant vessel found an abandoned JumpShip, the Locus, in orbit around Kirbyville. Records show that it vanished over two hundred years ago. The ship was severely damaged, but apparently at an indeterminate point in the past it set a colony up on this world, and Davion intelligence sent our team to see what had happened to them. A JumpShip with elements of the 1st Argyle Lancers is to pass though this system on the way to the Smoke Jaguar front, and they will take our report to the next system for transmission to New Avalon. If we encountered any resistance, or failed to make a com check every six hours, our JumpShip has been instructed to abandon us and go for help."
Gilman frowned. "Most of our forces are on a raid at this time. Obviously we can't stand up to a regiment of invaders, plus whatever forces you have on the planet. Obviously an attack on your enclave would silence them before they could be reinforced, but your JumpShip would flee, and even if we managed to seize it, we still would need to deal with the incoming regiment."
Smiling again, he turned to Cyranis and said "Thank you for your response."
Then he nodded at Landin, who suddenly had his gun pointed directly between Cynaris' eyes. "Unfortunately, we found the Locus over ten years ago. That's how we selected this world as our base of operations." He nodded to Landin again.
The gun flashed. |
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