Nathan Hystad - The Survivors - Books 1-3

Beside the structure, three ships were settled on the rocky surface.

“This looks like an outpost. We must be closer to their home galaxy,” Slate said, clenching his fists. “We can’t let Mae get to them.”

Mae’s ship was just hovering there. She was either contemplating her next move, or she was waiting for clearance. Clare tried to scan all communication frequencies, but nothing came across.

The good news was, they still didn’t know we were there.

“What do we do?” I asked, looking to Slate for guidance.

“We go down there, activate that death tool you have, and blow up Mae’s ship.” He said it so straight-faced, it startled me.

“What if there are more than Bhlat down there?” I asked, playing devil’s advocate.

“That’s why we have guns,” he replied, a smile crossing his face. It was more than a little unsettling.

“Does it end here? We stop Mae, we stop the outpost from ever passing on the knowledge we were here, and we go home. Right?” I laid it out and everyone nodded.

The device was light in my pocket, but the weight of what it could do almost caused me to sit down. The good news was, I would just need to use it one last time. To kill the potential enemy before they knew what hit them, in order to keep humanity a secret longer.

“How close do you think we need to be to use it?” Mary asked, not having to say what “it” was.

I shook my head. “I don’t know, but I doubt it will work instantly from a thousand kilometers. I’d say we fly over them and hope they can’t see us, turn it on, get Mae, and go home.” It sounded so easy. Part of me was excited that we might be on the way home in a very short amount of time; the other was tired of having to kill.

“Bringing us in,” Mary said.

Mae was still in space, and we went the long way to avoid crossing her path. The moon was rocky, small hills and mountains jutting out from it. The station was on the flattest part of the moon, which was even smaller in diameter than I had originally thought.

I tried to gauge the size of the room and hall structure as we approached, and put it at about six city blocks long with about twenty separate buildings, each connected with dark corridors, no glass anywhere.

When we hovered above the center of the area, I stood, sliding the device from my breast pocket. Tapping it turned the yellow ring on, and I scrolled to the icons, even though my helmet wasn’t on to translate the text. I remembered which to press.

“God forgive me,” I whispered as I tapped the confirm icon.

“Is it done?” Clare asked.

Nothing on the base looked any different. Were they dead?

The device ring shone red and started to flash. Text appeared over the screen. “I can’t read it, but I think something’s wrong.” Grabbing my helmet from beside my chair, I popped it on, locking it in, and let my HUD fire up. I scanned the device text again. DNA sample insufficient.

“Shit. The DNA sample has failed. Must have messed up when it flew onto the ground when we were tossed around in the wormhole,” I said, my hands nearly trembling. I tapped it a few more times, trying to get it to work, and the same result occurred. I even popped the sample tray open on the back, careful not to add my own sample to it. This thing was dangerous.

“You know what this means?” Slate asked, before answering his own question. “This means we go down there, kill one of them, and get a fresh sample. Then we beam the hell out and destroy them.”

It was as sound a plan as we had. “Couldn’t we just blow them to hell?” This from Nick.

“As much as I agree with the good doctor here, I think we need to get the sample. What if they do find their way to Earth? Having protection against them would be the difference between survival and extinction,” Mary said. I found it hard to argue with her logic.

“Then it’s set. Let’s go, Slate. We’ll be back in a few minutes. Don’t leave without us.” I led the way off the bridge, catching a worried glance from Mary. I knew she wanted to be down there with me, but her injuries weren’t healed enough, and it was a lot safer on the bridge than in the spider’s web we were about to jump into.

Nick was there beside us, passing us our rifles. He slid his helmet on. “Call me and I’ll be right there.”

Slate clapped him on the arm. “Dean, you ready for this? We isolate a Bhlat, incapacitate him, take the sample, activate the thing, and walk out of here.”

“Deal,” I said, pressing my pin, green light covering me once again. Nervous sweat dripped down my back and sides as I pushed on the bar, passing through the floor of the ship and into the light atmosphere of the moon, before crossing through the two-meter-thick ceiling of the building we hovered above.

I emerged in a room, gun ready to fire at will, but it was nearly dark, soft lights coming from some wall computers. Slate was beside me; we unlatched our belts and made our way to the doorway.

“All we need is one.” Slate took the lead. The door slid open at our foot pressure, making more noise than I wanted. So much for stealth.

The hall went both directions, lights glowing along the floor. It was quiet. Left or right. Right would lead us to a group of larger buildings we’d seen from above, so Slate led us left, probably assuming there would be fewer enemies that way.

We walked quietly, our rifles held up, ready for action.

“Guys, Mae’s on the move. She’s landing in their shipyard,” Clare said in my earpiece.

“That doesn’t change anything,” I said, Slate nodding firmly. He motioned to keep moving, and we approached another door to the left. Slate stepped in front of it, gun ready to blast, and it opened. He rushed in, gun moving from side to side, but the room was empty. It looked like weapons storage, and Slate’s eyes widened at the sight of huge alien guns lining the walls.

“Later,” I assured him.

Alarms clanged through the halls, and I winced at the volume. They knew we were here.

“W hat do we do?” I asked.

“We keep moving,” was the reply I got.

We checked each room. Some were empty; each served a different purpose. Whatever this place was, these guys were there for the long haul, or at least intended to be. Bunks lined the walls of a massive open space, enough room to sleep fifty of the large warrior race.

Where were they all? We passed the kitchen and mess hall, and I couldn’t help but feel they weren’t so different than we were. Maybe there was hope we could all get along. Seeing the look of grim determination on Slate’s face, I doubted it. Hell, humans couldn’t even get along with themselves.

Slate slid a finger in front of his mouth in a shushing motion and crept forward slowly. “There’s a group of them ahead. This is one of this side’s larger rooms. Maybe an auditorium.”

The alarms still blazed, but not as loudly, and soon the sound went away, leaving just the flashing lights to annoy us. I snuck a peek but quickly turned around, feeling like one was about to sneak up on us at any moment. The coast was clear. These Bhlat weren’t uniformed. Instead, they wore something akin to a jumpsuit. They weren’t carrying weapons, either.

They kept moving in the same direction as us, and we poked our heads into the next room. It looked like a large laboratory, with indecipherable mathematic formulas on digital screens. The structure to them looked quite different than anything I’d ever seen, yet eerily familiar at the same time. My HUD translator read what it could understand to me, and it still made no sense.

“Maybe it’s a science station,” I said.

“It doesn’t make a difference.” Slate was trained for a mission, and he wasn’t going to sway from his objective. His linear warrior mind was focused on the task at hand, and my mind was moving a mile a minute which, after our faster than light travel, might not have been so fast.