Steel Breach Read online

  STEEL BREACH

  By

  Casey Calouette

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Steel Breach

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Chapter Fifty

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  For my wife.

  I’d love to hear any feedback you may have. If you enjoyed the story tell your friends, leave a review, and help spread the word.

  You can find more about the author at http://caseycalouette.com or follow him on Twitter @titaniumtrout.

  Copyright 2015 Casey Calouette

  All Rights Reserved

  http://caseycalouette.com

  Chapter One

  Lishun Delta - Mackinof Front

  Corporal Karl Sigorski sprinted across the snowy waste and leapt into the depths of a shell hole. Inside the soil was dark, raw, and frozen. What was soil just an hour before had solidified into something as hard and jagged as flint.

  "Shit!" he cursed as the rough ground gouged and bruised. The cold slammed into him.

  His lips were chapped gray, and no matter how much lanolin he applied they still cracked deep. He'd seen men’s feet so dry that they cracked to the bone. Sentries, if they were caught in a coastal blizzard, were found frozen just hours later.

  He tried to scrape the gore from the dead Kadan troopers off of his overcoat, but it was frozen on like fish slime. His fleece-lined leather mittens rasped against the greenish-yellow goo.

  Karl hated the enemy. There was no camaraderie of sharing the front, or even an understanding with the dead and wounded. The Kadan were aliens in every sense. They were warm-blooded insects with all the rigidity and inhumanity that came with a bred and born caste system. But they fought like hell.

  The sky shifted and the clouds drifted by. Then the snow fell. Great flakes careened from the heavens and piled onto every surface. The rough browns and reds of the crater turned white. Soon Karl was covered from head-to-toe.

  He waited, listened, and clutched his rifle tight. His body armor crackled as he shifted in place. He tried to warm himself. Toes first, squeeze and release. Bend the knees. Rock the hips. Clench the fingers. He ran through the drills that kept fingers and toes from turning black.

  He was lost. There was no other way to say it. It started simple enough, a little raid to check the lines. They saw something in the distance, a massive structure, something new, and then the Kadan artillery rained down.

  The Vasilov line had an anti-artillery umbrella that would intercept most of the incoming rounds, but in the gap between the lines there was no such protection. He heard the roar, took cover, and watched as his squad disappeared under the walls of frozen mud.

  The panic hit him when frozen corpses tumbled out from the wall. His friends, dead, were mixed with long dead Kadan soldiers who'd been buried in the never ceasing artillery for years. It was too much and he ran. The white faces of the dead humans looked so similar to the waxy outer carapace of the Kadan.

  He couldn't stand to look at the Kadan. They were humanoid, slightly smaller than men, with four-fingered hands. The thumb was slender and lithe, with a razor sharp nail on the end. The eyes were like polished ceramic. Now he prayed they didn't come to investigate. But he knew they would.

  "Come on," Karl said through the shivers. He was in the early stages of hypothermia. Soon the shivering would wrack his body and even walking would become difficult. He'd seen it happen, and it made the shivering even worse.

  A shape emerged through the snow, then more shapes. Kadan troopers drifted in and out of sight like ghosts in the gusts of wind. They wore slate gray uniforms and clutched rapid fire slug guns. The Kadan favored the same weapon type as the Vasilov, neither nation was technologically advanced enough to field fusion, plasma, or beam weapons in any numbers.

  Karl slid lower and grasped his weapon. He slid the wood-stocked rifle up and carefully placed his mitt over the firing pad. They had learned long ago to remove the trigger guard to prevent frozen fingers. They used wood instead of plastic so it didn't freeze to their faces. "C'mon," he whispered, and pushed the rifle's safety.

  The bombardment was due. His squad was supposed to return at 0900. The bombardment would begin five minutes later. Then he could follow the sounds of the bombardment and return to his own lines.

  The first Kadan crested over the edge of the crater and Karl fired.

  The slug punched through the unarmored face and the insectoid fell to its knees and crashed to the bottom of the crater. The report of the weapon shattered the silence where only the wind had reigned. Karl slid lower and raised the weapon. All he had to do was catch them when they crested the rise.

  A dull boom roared on the horizon. Then another, and another, soon it was a rapid roar with the firings of the great guns so close together that one was indistinguishable from the next.

  Karl threw himself into the crater and curled into a ball.

  The ground shook as the artillery slammed into the frozen ground. The patchwork of craters erupted and massive clods of frozen dirt rose into the air. Snow exploded up and it was a blizzard of dirt, steel, and ice.

  Karl screamed. He'd been on the edges of the barrages before, but never like this. He felt the shock right in his stomach. The close strikes shook his entire body. He couldn't stop screaming, but the bombardment was so loud, so intense, so violent, he couldn't even hear himself doing it.

  Then, the barrage stopped. The last few chunks of dirt fell to the ground and a strange gray haze blanketed the earth. Vaporized snow mixed with dirt and the chemical remnants of high explosives. The air tasted of sulfur and old dirt.

  Karl rolled onto his side and stared into the air. He exhaled. The awe of the moment sat heavy on his chest and he simply took in the shock of the moment. He didn't even notice the frigid cold. The only thing he noticed was that he was still alive.

  The wind kicked up, as if it too paused when the bombardments arrived.

  Karl stood up and cradled his rifle in his arms. He brushed the snow and dirt off of himself, then saw the Kadan trooper and froze.
r />   Its bug eyes stared at him. Its face was covered in snow, dirt, and a sliver of steel poked out through its chest. It shook and struggled but couldn't move. The armor was shredded open and the sticky ichor froze on the edge of the wound.

  Karl snapped the weapon up and watched the creature. He felt nothing but revulsion and hate. There was nothing for him to feel pity for. Just as he was about to squeeze the trigger, he stopped. How many more Kadan had survived? He slid his hand away from the trigger. His eyes slid along the edge of the crater and he held his breath.

  He waited and watched the alien freeze to death.

  The Kadan trooper shuddered several times and finally died. Snow drifted onto its face and the dull eyes cracked as they froze.

  Karl crawled to the edge of the crater, gave one last look to his enemy, and set out into the wastes. He had to get back and report the Kadan structure, and hopefully get a hot lunch.

  #

  Chapter Two

  Vasilov Prime - Wharf District Twelve

  Tomi Morgan of the Vasilov Reserve Mining Division was dressed in another man’s jacket. Three layers of wool and high pile fleece rumpled underneath a dirty old jacket of beaten leather. Mist beaded up and ran down the creases of the jacket. The air was heavy with moisture and the sea. An industrial lift crept past with a stargate perched in front. A group of men holding picks marched behind, wearing old jackets and worn boots. They followed it into a warehouse without any lights.

  Lights flared on the horizon, a deep orange like a volcano in the fog. The roar of the smelters hit a moment later. The smell of steel would come. One more artillery piece grew in the depths of a forge, one more tank, one more weapon.

  Tomi stood alone in the orange light. He didn't like what he was doing. It wasn't outright theft, but well, it was illegal. A few gambling debts and then that little run in with Ekaterina... He almost smiled then remembered the debt. He'd never pay that off with a miner's salary.

  "Tomi?" a man called from the warehouse.

  Tomi gave one last glance to the sky and jogged inside. "That's me."

  "I'm Will," the man said without offering a hand. His face was rough and pocked, scored by slag burns. His eyes, even in the dark, were bloodshot and red. A mountain of a nose sprouted from his face, red and rosy. "You're on the rig."

  "Who's dis?" a voice croaked from the darkness. A short man hobbled up and grinned at Tomi with waxy yellow teeth. His back hunched with age and one eye was gone.

  Tomi shifted and tried to ignore the little man. His eyes adjusted to the dark.

  A half dozen ore haulers idled in the middle of the room. They were beaten and banged and one wheezed and hummed like an old horse. At the front was the mining rig. A low slung vehicle, Sigg designed, with arms tipped with cutting bits and processing lasers. It was, thankfully, in good condition.

  "Who's dis?" the man croaked again.

  "I'm Tomi," he said and held out a hand to the old man.

  Laughter broke out from the edge of the room. The others stood around a wire framed electric heater with hands outstretched. "He's gonna shake his hand?" a man laughed.

  "Ernst," the man replied quietly and squeezed Tomi's hand. It felt like squeezing an old stone.

  Tomi pulled his hand back and rubbed his palm on the jacket.

  "Five minutes," Will said. He walked toward a group of men erecting the stargate.

  Ernst stared up at Tomi with his good eye. He clamped his tongue between his lips and looked up and down.

  Tomi tried to ignore him. He didn't like being here, he didn't like the people, and he didn't see himself doing this ever again. The thought of the SecPolice coming in made him flush in the face. He turned his head and stared outside.

  "You're too pretty for this boy," Ernst croaked. "Deserter?"

  "What? No!" Tomi hissed back.

  "Huh." Ernst stared at the ground. "Boots."

  "Boots?" Tomi asked.

  "You can always tell a man by his boots. You can get dirty, wear another man’s jacket, slum it out a bit, but ya never hide the boots."

  Tomi realized he'd still had on his Mine issued safety boots. They were replaced every three months, the leather on this pair was barely broken in. He ignored the little man and paced toward the stargate.

  The stargate was a coal black cylinder of pure carbon with concentric rings of nickel-cobalt. Cabling and tubing draped to the sides where a pack of technicians rigged it all together. A man drove bolts into the concrete floor. A console flickered to life and bathed one side of the warehouse in a dim green light.

  A great light blasted on the horizon and it was like a second, minor, sun rose. The ground quivered and the faces of the workmen was suddenly clear. Tomi looked out the door, as did the others. The main stargate, a dozen miles away, had opened to another planet, a planet where it was daylight.

  "Get ready!" Will barked.

  Tomi jogged over to the mining rig.

  Ernst followed close behind. A man called out to Ernst, "Too big to be a monkey, too small to be an ape!"

  "Dames, drink or dice?" Ernst said.

  "All of the above," Tomi mumbled.

  Ernst cackled and dug his dirty knuckles into Tomi's ribs. "Boy! Let me tell ya, you got a sweet conscription exemption don't ya?"

  "And if I do?" Tomi said with a glance around.

  Ernst leaned close. "Get out! God boy, are you that stupid? If they catch—"

  Will came past and cut Ernst off. "They won't, we'll be out in no time, I've seen Tomi work."

  "Will I get sick? Is it bad?" Tomi asked Will.

  Will shook his head. "Nah, no gate sickness, the other end has a stargate. I'd not do a run without a gate, our equipment'd be fried for an hour. We're rebounding and going into the crust of the planet. Ain't no sickness for us boy. No puke on that jacket of yours eh?"

  A pair of men set up a rust streaked rotary cannon and pointed the barrel straight at the center of the stargate.

  Tomi watched, wide eyed, and gulped. What the hell was all this? He suddenly felt very much over his head.

  Ernst grunted at the gun. "If we get staked just get the hell out."

  "Staked?" Tomi replied. He coughed and tried to hide his nervousness.

  "If the Kadan get a grip on our hole they'll send their own hole and pinch us," Ernst said and made a mock squeezing motion. "If that happens just run!"

  Then it hit Tomi, they weren't just going to some nearby system, they had a link to Lishun Delta. "Shit."

  "Get ready!" Will hollered. The men jumped and hopped into the ore carriers. Ernst stood on the edge of the stargate and jammed his hands into his pockets. The technicians pulled away from the stargate and watched the horizon.

  Tomi crawled inside of the cab. A pile of cigarette butts lay heaped on the floor between his legs. He hated the smell, it was worst in the mines, the smoke never had anywhere to go. He placed the secondhand control helmet onto his head and ran a quick diagnostics. The helmet gave him a view like he was sitting right on top of the rig.

  The inside of the rig was claustrophobic, but it wasn't designed for comfort, just efficiency. Tomi triggered switches, grasped the controls and ran through a ready check. The earphones crackled and hissed.

  "As soon as the main gate drops we're going to use that power surge to open our hole. Start chewing right away, the haulers will be right behind you." Will said through the comms system.

  Tomi felt warm and wet inside of the cab. He ran through all the systems and waited. His heart drummed in his ears and he wanted to get out. All of this felt like a bad idea, a bad place to be, but the pay, he kept picturing that payoff. A big fat check to level his gambling debts and maybe even earn some affection from Ekaterina.

  The girl was a class above him. She liked to slum it up, to lead on the boys and Tomi knew it. There weren't many men who were still behind, most were on the front. They went through the stargates and held the borders. If it wasn't for his exemption he'd be there too, but instead he could get the grac
es of lesser nobles like Ekaterina. Though it was always in his mind that he would always be a miner unless he served in the military. No one moved up the castes without service, though there were plenty who moved down.

  The flaring of light on the horizon ceased as quickly as it started. The stargate hummed and hissed. The nickel glowed and the carbon ring crackled with electricity. The technicians huddled behind the console and ducked under the sparks. Then, with a pop, the stargate opened.

  A wall of stone, dull gray with streaks of metal, was flat across the face of the stargate. It was so smooth that the metal shined and glowed a dull orange. The smell of burnt rock filled the air.

  Tomi slammed the control ahead and plunged the cutting bits in the wall. It was like he did every day. A stargate would open, the miners would follow a vein, and then close it up for the next day’s work. This time though he was a wildcat, an unauthorized miner who was technically stealing. It's only stealing if you get caught, he told himself.

  The cutting bits hammered into the edge of wall. Rotating cutters pummeled the stone and the lasers singed through the edges and deftly sliced out the raw metal. It fell back onto a conveyor and shot out to the rear. A waiting ore hauler captured it all.

  Tomi looked to the side. The crew of the rotary cannon slammed the bolt back and settled in behind the gun carriage. Then he was through and inside of an entirely different planet. A contested planet.

  He worked the handles and plunged deeper. The air inside of the cabin grew humid, hot, and sweat poured from his brow. He could taste the dirt and salt and wished he'd taken the jacket off. Not much longer, he thought, almost there.

  The mining rig ran upwards and chased the vein. The band of nickel narrowed and the mining cutters couldn't keep up. He punched the halt and waited as the chunks dropped down and shot out into the rear. One more hopper to load. One more. He studied the ultrasonic scan, the vein spread out before him just through that pocket of stone.

  "Why did you stop?" Will called.

  The heat was getting to Tomi. He wiped his brow. "Overloaded the cutters, waiting for it to catch up."

  "How long?"

  "Minute maybe."

  "Pull the plug, get out," Will called back.