The prism whirred closer. Denver looked across to Layla. “It’s now or never. Let’s unload on the damned thing.”
She nodded and raised her rifle toward the top of the bench. They couldn’t simply hold their position against this type of enemy. Waiting and hoping it would retreat would prove fatal judging by the intent it had already shown.
Denver sprang up. “Now.”
He positioned the target in his visor at the beam’s source. Layla fired on automatic and sprayed it with tredeyan metal.
The blue lights on the prism flickered. It slowly descended, attempted to rise again for a moment but fell almost immediately.
Charlie rolled into the temple and ducked left. He glanced across to Denver and Layla, raised his rifle and fired.
Denver stood for a better view. The scion had landed in a space at the center of the temple.
A blue beam shot from the machine and focused on his visor. Denver squinted when it moved from one of his eyes to the other. He ducked back down again, guessing the thing was taking aim at his face. Charlie advanced forward and fired repeatedly.
Electric snaps echoed around the walls. The temple fell silent. A thin veil of smoke filled the air.
“I think I’ve done it,” Charlie said.
Edging out into an aisle, Denver noticed all the lights on the prism were out. It sat there like an inanimate object, but that wouldn’t be enough for him to drop his guard. He moved to Charlie’s side while keeping the scion machine in his sights.
Layla followed, her short shallow breathing audible through the intercom. Denver turned back. “Are you all right?”
She smiled and touched the arm of his suit. “I’ll be okay.”
Feeling his face flush, he looked away. “Better check to see if we really killed that thing.”
“Cover me,” Charlie said. He took slow deliberate steps toward the prism while maintaining his aim, and kicked it. It didn’t move. “I don’t think we’ll be getting any more trouble from this one.”
“You should’ve seen it,” Denver said. “Lasers and bolts all over the place.”
“If the mech’s a bigger, badder version of this,” Layla said. “I’d say the tredeyans have got their hands full.”
She knelt next to the prism and clanked the back of her gauntlet against its glossy sloped side. Denver didn’t want to touch it. He wanted to get away from it, in case it exploded into pieces.
Charlie shook his head. “There’s some crazy shit going down here. I don’t see how—”
Footsteps thudded up the steps. Denver twisted to the entrance and prepared to fire.
Vingo’s helmet appeared through the door and he looked around. “Is everybody okay?”
“We are, no thanks to you,” Denver said. “Where did you go?”
“I guarded outside to make sure no clusps took advantage of our plight. The rifle fire might have attracted many.”
“Bullshit,” Charlie said. “You weren’t bothered about them stalking us a while ago. You bottled it.”
Denver suspected Vingo saved them in the caverns to be his bodyguards on his quest to get back to his own village through a war zone. As soon as the shooting started, he disappeared like a fart in the wind. It wasn’t a problem. They suited each other’s needs. At least they knew he couldn’t be relied on when the shit hit the fan.
Vingo approached the prism, tapped his forearm pad and scanned it over the top of the machine. “It’s a worker drone. You’ve corrupted the collective.”
“Which means?” Layla said.
“When acting remotely, like this one, they have to assemble their own core power for movement and communications. If you damage the artificial intelligence controlling this, you can irreversibly corrupt them.”
“Remotely from what?” Charlie said. “The prism in the sky? Is that ship a huge version of the thing we just killed?”
“No. They don’t assemble to anywhere near that size. The croatoans told us that the scion build ships with labor and materials from other planets.”
“Do the other planets give them full access to their systems and records?” Layla said.
“Yes, and now they peacefully trade with the scion.”
“Why couldn’t you do that? Seems odd that you choose potential destruction over a new overlord.”
“The croatoans won’t allow us because we have links to their systems. Optax, for example, a mining planet, is independent. They have formidable ground defenses to protect themselves and set up a safe zone around their planet. If a ship enters without its weapons disarmed, it’s the last action it will take.”
“Do the scion have any of your humans working for them?” Charlie said.
“Not to my knowledge, but it’s possible. They may have taken them from other planets.”
“When we have time to spare,” Layla said. “I’d like to know more about how you managed the humans, the numbers and where they are.”
“I can give you information, but some things are beyond tredeyan knowledge.”
Layla was bound to ask that question some point, but this was the wrong time to be going down a rat-hole.
“Forget about that for now,” Denver said. “Let’s move the prism out of here. We need to stay focused on the current situation.”
“He’s right,” Charlie said. “What if a couple of its angry brothers and sisters turn up?”
“Moving it into the forest should be good enough for the moment,” Vingo said. “I expected a fighter to hit the temple, but it looks like we destroyed it in time.”
“We?” Charlie asked.
Denver picked up the object the prism was working on when they first entered the temple, a shiny black open case. Inside it, dull gray components were attached to a transparent circuit board. Colored lines interconnected each one to other parts. “What’s this?”
“It’s a transceiver,” Vingo said. “They place them to have full planetary coverage for their ground force.”
Charlie raised his left gauntlet above it and clenched his fist. “I suppose we better smash it up.”
“No need. It’s incomplete.”
Denver heard quiet clicking between Charlie’s and Vingo’s words. He went to raise a finger to his lips, but his gauntlet bounced off his visor. Layla smiled at him, until she read his serious expression.
He thought his action was a mix of natural instinct and a reflection on just how good the suits were. In Tredeya’s atmosphere, he moved better with the suit on and had gotten used to it during the last couple of hours. Regardless of the reason, he recognized the distinct noise of a croatoan in close proximity.
“Keep quiet for a minute,” Denver said.
The group paused to listen. It was more of a silent flapping noise than a conversational croatoan click. The type Denver only heard when up close and dirty during a fight.
Layla pointed at a waist-high wooden door to their left.
Vingo, true to form, took a step back. Charlie put his gauntlet behind his back and ushered him forward. “You better speak to whoever is behind that door, because the only talking I usually do to croatoans is with my rifle.”
“It’s a small storeroom that’s been empty for years.”
“Something’s in there. Go on.”
Without wanting to take any chances after the experience with the hunter in the caverns, Denver gestured Layla behind a bench and aimed over it. Hagellan may have helped them, but he couldn’t speak for the rest of their damned empire. It would be naïve to think that bringing down a mother ship and destroying their jump gate would go unnoticed.
Charlie knelt to the side of Vingo. He shuffled toward the door and called out in gargled croaks without a response. He tried a few raspy clicks. The door creaked open.
A croatoan the size of a typical six-foot guard, wearing a blue robe, sat curled up in the small space. A silver tube ran around the center of its head, covering the nostril holes. No doubt a hi-tech breathing apparatus. It clicked a long response to Vingo.