Predator - Incursion (33 page)

“Destruction,” Hashori said. “Many Yautja killed.” The term she used to name her species wasn’t easily translatable, so Liliya heard it as ‘Yautja’. “Several habitats have been destroyed. A planet I once called home, fallen to the aggressors. The memories… The history… We treasure that more than any physical thing. Every Yautja death is a tragedy, wiping out centuries of experience and history. Every death takes away part of that story. Now, the Yautja story is more denuded than it ever has been before, in all living memory.”

“I’m sorry,” Liliya said.

Hashori was silent for a while, before saying, “You have the means to fight them?”

And you almost destroyed me
, Liliya thought, her body still bleeding, wounds merging to form a pulsing background pain. But it would serve no purpose to say that now. She wasn’t even sure the Yautja would recognize or admit to her mistake. The torture had been relentless, but now things had changed, and Hashori was following the direction of that change.

Liliya could only do her best to heal herself, and not to show the weakness and pain she felt. She was damaged, torn, leaking blood, but she could repair. Her systems were already doing their best to mend what was broken and bypass places or circuits that could not be fixed. She would be left with scars—and she was glad.

“Yes,” she replied. “In my veins. A technology being used to control and weaponize those bug-like creatures… we call them Xenomorphs.”

“We call them fire lizards.”

“As good a name as any. Where are you taking me?”

“Where many of my kind in this part of the galaxy are regrouping to fight back. Into the Human Sphere.”

Love Grove Base, Research Station, LV-1529
September 2692
AD

While her small DevilDog crew gathered the survivors together and assessed their condition, Major Akoko Halley grabbed Isa Palant’s arm and dragged her back to the
Pixie
. The Bolt-class ship wasn’t huge, but it was fast, and it looked like it had got them there just in time. Dropping down into action had invigorated the DevilDogs and seen away any remaining anger Halley felt at being sent on this mission.

Now she had the woman she’d come here to save, and it was time to find out just why. Palant was thin and drawn, dirty, scared. She looked hungry and confused, but there was also an excitement about her. A sense of urgency.

They boarded the ship and Halley guided the woman to the small table in the rec room. Sitting her down, she poured some energy drink and dug out a few sachets of power bars. They tasted like shit, but they’d give her an instant boost. It looked like she hadn’t eaten properly in some time.

Halley knew there must be one hell of a story here, but her first task was to prepare a sub-space message for Gerard Marshall. The thought of speaking with the odious man sickened her, but this was her mission, and this was her duty.

“I have to speak to someone in command,” Palant said. She sipped at the drink, then downed it, staring at the opposite wall but seeing into a much farther distance. “It’s urgent. It’s important.”

“I’m composing a transmission to Gerard Marshall, he in command enough?”

“Why did you come here? For me?”

“He told me you’d have some value in the fight against the Yautja.”

“This is happening elsewhere?” There was a desperation to Palant. She was coiled like a power spring, ready to flip and fire—and she’d been bent over the injured Yautja, seemingly talking to the thing using the device she still grasped in her hand. Maybe that’s what Marshall meant when he said how important she might be. Maybe she could communicate with the things.

“There’s an incursion,” Halley confirmed. “No one wants to call it an invasion, because there doesn’t seem to be that many Yautja, but there’s enough of them penetrating the Human Sphere—attacking settlements, and taking and using dropholes—to make it feel more serious than an isolated incident. We’re edging toward war, and that’s why I was sent out here to see if you were still alive. Apparently you might know something that’ll help us beat them.” Halley shrugged.

As far as she was concerned they had everything they needed to push back the Yautja, and track and kill those who didn’t run. It was a situation that she and her DevilDogs had trained for many times, and she resented the idea that Marshall didn’t feel comfortable under their protection. That he needed more.

“So what is it you know?” she asked.

“I’ve been studying the Yautja my whole life,” Palant said.

“And now you can talk to them.”

Palant glanced down at the device in her lap. “In a limited way, but I know something about why this incursion is taking place, and I really need to communicate that to the Thirteen.”

“Let me get my communications guy here and we’ll do just that.” Halley turned away, troubled. The woman was strange, like only a part of her was here. She touched her comms bracelet and called Gove back to the ship, then turned back to Palant.

“How many survivors?”

“Fifteen,” she said. “A couple of indies, the rest of us from the base.”

“Indies,” Halley scoffed.

“They saved our lives!” Palant glared at her, going up in Halley’s estimation. Halley knew she was an intimidating personality, yet this woman was confidently standing up to her. She guessed the scientist had been through a lot.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m sure it’s been tough.”

“Tough,” Palant said, snorting. She wiped her eyes. “So this communication?”

As Gove appeared in the rec room, a chiming sounded through the ship. Palant raised her eyebrows.

“Guess he wants to talk to us more than we want to talk to him.”

“That’s Marshall?” Palant asked.

“Message incoming, so could be,” Halley said. “Gove, comms room ready?”

“Good to go,” Gove said.

Halley nodded toward the doorway leading onto the flight deck. “Come on. Let’s see what the Company has to say.”

* * *

As it turned out, the message wasn’t from Gerard Marshall, but General Paul Bassett himself. When his image flickered onto the holo screen he had Gerard Marshall sitting behind him, and Halley couldn’t shake the idea that Marshall could use even the General as a puppet. The Company man smiled softly as Bassett prepared himself.

Halley wondered whether Weyland-Yutani had something on the General, too, and then she snorted a silent laugh. Of course they did. They had something on
everyone
. That was where they found their power. Through all their ups and downs, the Company had remained constant on that, at least.

“Are we on?” Bassett asked, and someone out of the picture must have nodded. “Major Halley!” Basset said. “By our estimation you should have reached LV-1529 by now. I trust your mission has been successful, and Mr. Marshall and I are awaiting your report, I hope imminently. In the meantime, I felt the need to appraise you of how events have advanced since your departure.

“Your DevilDog battalion has reached the Addison Prime system and rescued the survivors from the Spaceborne frigate. More survived the terrorist act than was first thought. The 39th are now en route to Addison Prime itself, where it’s rumored several Yautja have landed, and news across the north-east-alpha quadrant of the Sphere is much the same. The initial seventeen occasions of sabotage we talked about is now more like fifty, the worst of which was on Spaceborne 17th’s orbital in the Jackson system.” Bassett’s face dropped. “The saboteur got hold of an anti-matter loop and exposed it in the orbital’s drive hall.”

“Oh my God,” Halley whispered. She was aware of Palant glancing at her, but her focus was on General Bassett. A man hardened to war, veteran of many conflicts large and small, and someone who had reputedly killed with his bare hands when he was a grunt during the Quailed Wars, he now seemed almost too shocked to go on. Halley wished these sub-space communications could be real time. She wanted to offer condolences, and share the grief.

“Nineteen thousand men, women, and children,” Bassett said. “Almost the entire compliment of the 17th, along with their support crews and families. There’s nothing left of the orbital. At least they felt nothing.”

Marshall leaned toward Bassett and said something unheard. Without looking back, Bassett snapped at him.

“Major Halley has a right to be appraised of our situation, Marshall!”

Halley smiled at the General’s outburst, but in it she also saw a shaky reserve.

“That’s just the instances of sabotage,” Bassett said. “Many other saboteurs failed, but none have been captured alive. They either killed themselves, or entered into conflicts with Marines which ensured their deaths. It’s not yet known what organization initiated the attacks, but we have to believe it’s connected with the Yautja incursion, which has grown in seriousness. We have over a hundred reports of Yautja attacks, spread all across the quadrant. It appears as if they have no preference over where to land and attack. Research stations, mining bases on moons and asteroids, orbitals, military transports, scientific missions, independent stations, pirate ships—the Yautja are assaulting wherever and whenever they can. We’ve launched countermeasures, and combat is underway in scores of sites. We’re keeping track of everything we can, but with the sub-space lag and distances involved, we’re a little…”

Lost
, Halley thought. Everything for which the Colonial Marines had been established, centuries before, was happening now, and their commanding officer looked lost. Maybe it was a hidden weakness he had never displayed before, or perhaps it was because the Company had taken notional control of the Colonial Marines, turning them from a protective force into a police force.

Bassett suddenly looked up, blinking, obviously aware of Gerard Marshall seated behind him. The Company man had said nothing. Perhaps his presence was enough.

“The Colonial Marines are up to the task,” Bassett said. “While many contacts have been reported, and we suspect more are ongoing that are as yet unreported, our main concern remains the Yautja possession and use of a greater number of dropholes. Seven dropholes along the Outer Rim were assaulted and taken by aliens, and their ships have been dropping through ever since. Some of them were intercepted when they emerged further into the Sphere, most were destroyed, but some have disappeared. Once they’ve dropped a second time, the number of places they can emerge is increased tenfold.

“They’re also suiciding whenever they are trapped or mortally wounded. News I have is… horrific. Massive death tolls among Marine units, as well as civilian populations. So few Yautja, but such massive damage.”

“I know why they’re doing it!” Palant said, and Halley held up her hand. Didn’t the fool realize this was a one-way conversation?

Gerard Marshall rose at last and stood beside the General. Palant hated him. Undoubtedly an important man, she also believed him to be a monster. Not a killer—at least not with his own hand. Not an animal, but a man who put personal gain, and the good of the Company, before anything else. Even now, with General Bassett relaying news of tens of thousands dead and violent contacts with the Yautja across this quadrant of the Human Sphere, Marshall would be assessing how Weyland-Yutani could benefit from the war.

She was sure of it.

“We need to know if you found Isa Palant and Milt McIlveen alive,” he said, “and if you did, we need you to transmit all of their research and knowledge of the Yautja, securely. A lot might depend on what they know.”

“We’re considering offering a ceasefire,” Bassett continued, “but we have to do it from a position of strength. Otherwise they won’t even respond. We still don’t know the Yautja’s intent, and our analysts have found no discernible pattern in their attacks. They seem almost random, yet the more we know of them, the more we can threaten them with.

“I look forward to your report, Major,” he concluded. “Be safe.”

The picture shivered and clouded, and just before it faded to black Palant saw that unsettling smile back on Marshall’s face.

“Major, I think I know what’s happening here,” Palant said. “I don’t think they’re launching an invasion.”

“It sure looks like that to me,” Halley said. “Did you hear what General Basset said? This is a war, and while you were talking to that bastard thing out there, Marines were dying.”

A sound from behind made her turn around. Gove was still there, standing at the communications unit, eyes wide and Adam’s apple bobbing as he tried to swallow away tears.

“Private Gove?” Halley said.

“The SpeedSharks,” he said.

“Yes, the 17th. All of them, the General said. A saboteur working with the Yautja.”

“That’s not true!” Palant said.

“My brother is a Corporal in the 17th,” Gove said. He tried to say more but his voice failed.

Halley took a step forward and grasped his upper arm. “My condolences.”

“I haven’t seen him in seven years. You know, it’s so difficult, distances so… and I usually spend my leave on orbitals or…”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Palant said. “We’ve all lost. A good friend of mine died when our base was blown up, but the saboteur wasn’t a Yautja, and didn’t have anything to do with them. I don’t know why she did it, but I do know this—the Yautja are fleeing from something. McIlveen and I listened to the two Yautja who attacked us, talking about them, and when I spoke with Shamana—”