“I’m not sure,” they both replied in unison.
Rachthausen pressed them, “think; this is important.”
“I don’t think so, not from what I remember.” Gomez replied, his brow furrowed in thought.
“Are you absolutely sure.”
Gomez nodded, his dreadlocks swaying gently.
“Okay,” Rachthausen turned to address his other guards.
“Wait!” Kalschacht called out, “there is another exit.”
Rachthausen froze, his worst fears confirmed, “shit.” was all he could say.
“There is a small emergency escape corridor; it’s on the far side of the facility.”
Drax and his men forced their way onward through the howling winds blowing across the surface, finally making it to the central focusing pylons of the facility, he loved the design of classic Dracos architecture, it looked so bold, so grand, like four giant claws reaching up from the ground ready to drag those unwary enough to get caught in its clutches deep down into the planets surface. Those grand old days were long lost to his people now, or so he had thought.
Once he has recaptured this base, it will re-energise his people, give them the boost they desperately need to once again become the scourge they were all those years ago. His people given the power of the old ones once again, the thought filled him with excitement and made him smile with anticipation.
He peered down the gigantic aperture, which the focusing pylons ringed, and switched to his thermal view once again. He could just make out the huge spinning collider at the bottom. It still showed up white-hot from the energy release earlier. No-one would know that the collider was buried a kilometre into the planets crust, built over one of the largest geothermal vents on the entire surface.
There were many other vents, but the others were nowhere near as big as this, in-fact it was all the vents and the geothermal activity that spewed out the methane and other gases, which created the clouds which swirl about this planet. Auriga III was a fascinating, yet deadly place for the unwary.
With a wave of his hand, he motioned for his men to continue towards the emergency evacuation hatch that had been transmitted to his A.R. uplink. It was tough going, even for the Kallan, the winds were making every step an effort and they could feel the biting cold through their carbon fibre environment suits. However, the thought of hunting down and hearing the screams of these interlopers, banished any negative thoughts from them. Once they got inside the fun could begin, and oh would they have such fun.
After about an hour of trudging through the windswept surface, they came upon a tiny hatch sunk into the ground, and half covered with wild bushes and shrubs.
Drax and a few of his men began clearing back the vegetation in earnest, eager to get to those inside. They found the hatch was only big enough for one man at a time to enter single file.
There was a small dirt encrusted panel next to the hatch, the other Kallan trained their eviscerator rifles on the hatch doors, ready in-case there was a guard stationed on the other side or some kind of booby trap.
Drax pressed a control on the panel. With a faint hiss of escaping air, the hatch slid open, gripping his pistol the Dracos commander cautiously ventured inside the escape tunnel.
It wasn’t lit, however that posed no problem, as he switched his helmet onto night-vision mode. Gradually the interior was revealed to him. It was a smooth cylindrical shaft descending into the base at an angle of about forty degrees, it was steep, yet at the floor of the shaft was a series of metal steps that ran down its length.
Drax cautiously made his way down the metallic flight of steps and descended into the gloom, one by one, his men followed.
Rachthausen and Kalschacht studied the three dimensional display in the control room again, this time in closer detail. They studied each corridor, panning around the entire facility, what they uncovered worried them immensely. They had found the escape hatch on the plan, and it led to a completely separate wing, or so they thought. As they continued to study the plan they realised that the ‘dead ends’ they had been coming to, were not dead ends at all.
They were enormous blast doors, designed to protect the base should the collider at its heart malfunction and explode. On the first and third floors, these were connected to giant semi-circular corridors that linked the other wing to this one.
Worst of all, they found that the control room they were standing in, was just an auxiliary. There was a far larger main one on the other wing, which also looked suspiciously like a military wing, consisting of military store houses, mess rooms, barracks, and engineering workshops.
Great, Rachthausen thought, not only have they found an alternative way into the base, they now have the resources of a fully operational military complex with which to attack us from, this is going from bad to worse.
They did have one stroke of luck however, there was a maintenance room, probably used to make quick repairs to this side of the facility. It was also on this floor; whatever it took, they had to seal those blast doors. He hoped he could find something inside with which to either brace the doors, or even better, weld them shut.
The sergeant made his way back towards the assembled scientists and other soldiers to tell them the news.
“Here’s what we are going to do,” Rachthausen said as he studied their grim, worried faces. “I want two groups of three to guard the blast doors at the end of each corridor. They are not dead ends as we thought, if the enemy break through, they can very quickly overwhelm us.”
Naturally his Sicarian guards were the first to volunteer, “Okay Johnson, Maxwell, Lindberg, you have the first floor. Anderson, Laveaux, Thorsson, you have this floor. Do whatever you need to do, but in no circumstances should they come through those blast doors, keep in contact at all times.”
The six men saluted, “yes, sergeant.” Before getting their kit together ready to take up position.
Rachthausen reinforced the motto of the sixty ninth, “fight hard, fight well!”
The men silently nodded, before heading out.
“Okay, Kalschacht, Gomez, Broadhurst, let’s see if we can find something to shore up those blast doors.”
The four men left the confines of the briefing hall and headed towards the maintenance store they had seen on the map. Fortunately for them it was only a short walk away.
The metal doors slid open and quickly allowed them access, to what could only be described as a giant rabbit warren of shelves, spare parts and strange tools, all of which were alien in nature.
They searched disheveled shelf upon disheveled shelf, rack upon rack, until at last Broadhurst shouted over from a corner of the room, “over here, I think I found something!”
He was holding a small handheld device, it bore a striking resemblance to an old earth plasma torch, there was a small yet sharp point at one end, and a trigger on the handle itself. They each inspected the device and found it had an intricate battery like power source in its handle, however the ‘battery’ had lost its charge over the centuries it had been abandoned.
“See if you can find another power supply for that thing,” Rachthausen said. The anticipation in his voice was palpable, they needed a bit of luck right now, and this just might be it.
Kalschacht was intrigued by a device affixed to one of the walls of the room. It possessed a small control panel, all in alien text. Its small lights blinked, lighting up the nearby shelving in an amber glow. He had a hunch that this was some sort of charging station for the tools, he searched around for another of those ‘batteries’ to test, eventually coming across one. Cautiously, he slotted the end of it into one of the narrow groove like bays, half closing his eyes as he did so. It clicked into position, suddenly the amber light changed into a solid green. Dieter Kalschacht breathed a sigh of relief, within the space of a couple of minutes it had changed back to flashing amber again.
“Here, try this.” He slotted the newly charged ‘battery’ into the handle and the alien tool came to life, a series of buttons lit up on the side of the small device.
Broadhurst walked over to an empty patch of wall in order to test it, and as he pressed the trigger, a bright beam of laser energy shot out from its tip and began to melt the metal, sending out a shower of sparks in the process.
“It’s a laser welder!” He shouted in elation.
“Let’s get it to the blast doors, before the charge runs out,” Rachthausen replied.
