Hunt for the Saiph (The Saiph Series Book 3) Read Free Page B

ready. Maybe the alien still lying on the floor had friends on the other side of the airlock.
    Philippa moved to the airlock’s open outer door. A cursory examination identified the control cables for the door’s mechanism, "Lieutenant, if I cut this control cable, it should stop the door closing from the other side of the inner airlock. If their systems are anything like ours, it should be impossible to open the inner door while the outer one is still open. Might buy us some time to figure out our next move."
    "Good thinking, Corporal. Make it happen."
    Holstering her PEP, Philippa reached into her leg pouch and pulled out the small plasma cutter she always kept there. On activation, plasma as hot as the surface of the sun lanced out, its thin arc cut through the control cables in seconds and disabled the outer door. Philippa moved back toward Travis, her PEP back out and leveled at the alien.
    "I've got this, Lieutenant."
    Travis took a step back toward the outer door, pausing to inspect Philippa's handiwork. The outer door was out of commission and her swift action gave him a few minutes to collect his thoughts. "Good work there, Corporal. Quick thinking with the tackle and the door." A slight movement of Philippa's Wraith suit’s helmet in silent acknowledgment was all Travis got in return for his plaudits.
    Travis recalled that he had been incredulous when the First Sergeant recommended Papadomas for the job of shepherding the scientists. Travis would have much preferred that one of the sergeants had the job. Papadomas was the junior corporal in the platoon, less than two years out of training; nevertheless, the First Sergeant was quite insistent. If there was anything they taught you in officer training, it was to listen to your senior noncommissioned officers, so Travis bowed to the First Sergeant’s greater knowledge of the platoon.
    Watching Papadomas in action, he was glad he had. She reacted more quickly than he to the rapidly developing situation. First putting the alien out of action, then disabling the outer airlock door and securing their position for the moment. B ack to the situation in hand, thought Travis.
    They had one prisoner but God knew how many more were on the other side of the inner door. Of course, there was no definite proof that whoever was on the other side of the door was aggressive. If they wanted to get into a fight with his marines, they would have sent more than one lone individual who, from what Travis could see, was not even armed.
    Travis gambled that whoever else was on the other side of the inner door did not know the marines had been on the surface. Activating his link to the Tanto, he called the pilot. “Whistle up the Sheridan, it looks like we may have a first contact situation here. I'll pass you a copy of my visual data packet so they can make their own appraisal. Tell the Sheridan I’m requesting a full diplomatic team to take the lead here and I need additional marine units to secure the surrounding area out to at least a kilometer. If we’ve found one airlock here, there might be more scattered around and I don't want to be blindsided. Break. First Sergeant, let’s get the men spread out into all-round defense, we may be here for a while." In his HUD, a sparkling of points appeared as the First Sergeant repositioned the marines. Maneuvers completed, Travis turned his attention to the still-prone figure on the floor.
    Two arms, two legs, and a head. Any facial features were obscured by the tinted visor of the helmet. The pressure suit the figure wore looked a bit battered and had received some obvious repairs. On closer observation, Travis saw the suit seemed more bulky at the joints than it should. The way he’d been able to hold off Papadomas might be explained by a battery-powered exoskeleton built into the suit. Well, they weren’t going to learn much more until the First Contact Team arrived, at which point this particular problem wouldn’t be his anymore, it