Chapter 5 - Arrival

As I sat back in the pilot's seat, quasi-space began to unfold, and Kama-6, the planet of the colonists, appeared before me. Its green and brown continents were crisscrossed by bluish threads of rivers, and the atmosphere seemed dense and rich.

According to the scanners, the air was breathable, but my instinct told me not to take any chances. I'd better leave my helmet on, for whatever surprises might lurk in the alien biosphere.

A notification popped up on the screen about a message from the surface.

- That's it, - I muttered. - Apparently, I'd already been spotted.

I activated the receiver and heard a stern voice:

- Unregistered ship "Eridian", you are in restricted space of the Krasus civilization. State the purpose of your arrival or leave the area immediately.

- The ship "Eridian" is here to fulfill a contract to protect the colony, - I answered clearly. - Request permission to land.

The minute's pause seemed like an eternity. But then the voice came back, a little less tense, but still official:

- "Eridian", you have permission to land and fulfill your contract. Have a good hunt.

- Thank you, - I said, disconnecting the comms.

I switched control to the ship's AI, deciding not to take any chances until I had the system fully mastered.

The ship turned, gently increasing speed, and arced toward its destination. The map data showed a large cave, indicated by the colonists as a den of beasts.

As we entered the atmosphere, the plating began to burn with friction, and a thin layer of fiery glow enveloped the ship. It looked beautiful, but I knew this was no time for admiration.

The ship suddenly slowed, turned around, and engaged the main engines to reduce speed.

When we reached the lower atmosphere, the Eridian used the maneuvering engines to perfectly align and make a soft landing.

A jolt. That's it. I'm in position.

I took a deep breath.

- This is it, - I muttered. - Here and now, everything would be decided.

Maybe I'll die without accomplishing the task. Maybe I'll realize it's not my thing and decide to do something less lethal. Trucking, for instance. The colonists pay 10,000 enas a trip. Stable, safe, predictable.

But I already knew it wasn't for me.

- No, - I said aloud, standing up. - I'm not going to be a space trucker.

With those words, I headed back to the armory. 

The armory greeted me with dim lights and flickering screens. 

- Okay, what else?

The movements in the armor were quick and precise, but I knew that alone wouldn't be enough. The caves would limit maneuverability, and enemies would probably try to get closer. Strikes in armor would be powerful, but too slow. 

I walked over to a crate filled with grenades. I carefully picked up a thermobaric charge. The dark red hue clearly hinted at the purpose of this thing, and if the description was to be believed, in a pinch this bomb could seriously injure even a C-ranked pugilists's path super.

However... in the caves, such a thing would just kill me with one random throw. Therefore, I need something powerful and piercing, but compact.

I moved on to the next rack, separated from the rest of the space. This was a special sector: weapons that, as it seemed to me, were not created for mere mortals. 

- What's this beautiful thing? - I said, picking up a massive pistol with a short but menacing barrel.

The armor interface responded instantly, displaying a succinct message: Plasma thermopistol, also known as a melta pistol. Classification: melta gun.

- Melta? - I interjected, activating the data system built into my helmet. The Eridian's armor-bound artificial intelligence responded immediately, displaying a schematic of the weapon and a brief text on the transparent screen in front of me.

The melta weapons utilizes fusion to create a jet of high-temperature plasma. This impact is initiated by subatomic excitation of matter in the target area, causing it to melt. Additionally, a melta weapon can generate small-scale thermonuclear reactions manifesting in the form of an explosion.

I stared at the model that unfolded before me in holographic form. The melta's internal components looked like smaller versions of a tokamak, the very devices that had once been the crowning technology of my home world.

- Basically, a miniature fusion reactor, - I muttered, taking in the details.

According to the data, a standard melta weapon could fire a plasma stream with temperatures in the range of 20-30 million degrees Celsius. Even if you reduced those numbers to 5 million due to the compact size of the weapon, it was still monstrously destructive.

The energy source is deuterium and helium-3. The melta-weapon contains a miniaturized magnetic confinement circuit operating on the principle of a tokamak or stellarator. The chamber heats a mixture of deuterium and helium-3 to temperatures on the order of 100-200 million degrees Celsius, necessary to trigger a thermonuclear reaction. Magnetic fields prevent the plasma from contacting the walls of the chamber, avoiding structural failure.

The fuel (liquid deuterium and helium-3) is stored in hermetically sealed tanks. When fired, the fuel is injected into the fusion chamber in strictly defined amounts to ensure the stability of the reaction. Superconducting pumps are used for feeding and precise dosing.

Extreme temperatures and pressures are required to trigger a fusion reaction. This is achieved using a powerful laser or ion pulse that heats and compresses a mixture of deuterium and helium-3 into a plasma state. The laser pulses are fired in synchronization with the propellant supply.

The high-energy plasma produced by the reaction is channeled through a special magnetic plasma channel. The fields of the channel hold the plasma and focus it into a narrow "beam" that is released from the barrel of the weapon. The channel is coated with special materials resistant to extreme temperatures and erosion.

When the weapon is activated, the system feeds fuel into the fusion chamber, simultaneously charging the magnetic circuit and the laser initiator.

The laser pulse creates the temperature and pressure necessary to initiate a thermonuclear reaction. The plasma produced by the reaction of deuterium and helium-3 is heated to temperatures of tens of millions of degrees, generating an extremely powerful flow of energy.

The plasma is directed through a focusing magnetic channel and ejected as a high-energy jet. The plasma jet is capable of burning through virtually any material, including heavy armor and even protective shields, as it acts at the subatomic level to destroy the structure of materials.

Melta weapons work at a distance of up to 20 meters, with maximum power at close ranges. The closer the target, the greater the concentration of plasma and its destructive effect.

NOTHING in the blast radius can withstand such a shot.

- It's amazing. - I couldn't take my eyes off the model.

However, the melta gun had some serious disadvantages. If its body was damaged or its stabilization system failed, it could become a death trap. A loaded weapon contained enough energy to vaporize its owner and his immediate surroundings.

Another fact struck me: the melt weapons in the Eridian arsenal were an example of technology that civilizations had lost.

"Now even the three universal powers are only able to reproduce pitiful semblances of melta weapons, though they have retained the technology to create melto-bombs." - the text said.

These replicas were many times larger, yet weaker. Power consumption had increased tenfold, and effectiveness had dropped. Melta weapon technology, once revolutionary, had become something of an artifact of antiquity.

- What I hold here is past greatness. A reminder that even the most advanced advancements can be forgotten, - I said aloud to myself.

I secured the gun on my hip. Its weight seemed both burdensome and respectful at the same time.

The Melta gun was more than a weapon. It was a symbol - of both power and fall. A weapon once used for defense and exploration had become a rarity available to the few.

- I hope I don't have to test you in action, - I muttered, feeling the cold metal of the weapon against my armor.

To top it off, I picked up the power axe. Its massive weight echoed in my palms, as if the tool itself anticipated the work ahead.

A power weapon. It wasn't just a blade, it was a symbol of power and technology aimed at destruction.

As I activated the weapon, small charges of lightning ran along the edge of the blade, surrounding it with an energy field. 

Once again, a mountain of technical information and references appeared in front of me.

"A power weapon is a melee weapon whose combat part, when activated, is surrounded by an energy field that allows it to easily penetrate even the densest of barriers. Force weapons are distinguished by the presence of a destructive energy field throughout the blade or tip of the weapon, allowing it to cut through most types of armor, let alone limbs. Most such weapons conceal their true nature in small power batteries and energy projecting veins, and appear as normal weapons until lightning discharges run down the blade upon activation. When de-energized, most power weapons can serve as regular cold weapons-a useful feature when the energy battery is depleted or its use is fraught with danger." - I read the text.

- You'll be my safety option, - I muttered, securing the axe behind my back.

I checked my rifle, melta pistol, and armor, feeling like I'd become a walking fortress.

- Overkill? Maybe, - I grinned. - But better safe than sorry.

I took another look at the armory, making sure I hadn't missed anything. The power armor fit perfectly, the melta pistol hung on my hip, the rifle and axe hung on my back.

There was a strange calmness to my soul. Maybe it was the armor that added confidence, maybe it was the fact of preparation, or maybe I just didn't realize the gravity of the situation yet.

Ahead of me were beasts I knew only from scanty descriptions, and a colony filled with people who were probably already evaluating me. The contract was simple: protection and mopping up. But it was the kind of task that rarely went according to plan. 

- Either that's my way or... Trucking, - I said aloud, grinning slightly.

One last deep breath. The airlock hissed quietly open, and a bright light illuminated the ship's interior panels.

- Well, Ellarion, let's see what you can do, - I muttered, taking the first step.

And there I was, outside, face to face with a new reality.

As the ramp lowered, a rush of moist, thick air hit my helmet. I couldn't resist taking it off to feel it. The wind brought the smell of damp earth, leaves, and unfamiliar flowers, tinged with a faint bitterness, as if it had passed through the thicket of a thousand-year-old forest.

Sunlight poured inside the ship, burning my eyes even through the polarization of the visor.

I took a step forward, and the warmth of the sun came over me at once. It was dense, viscous, as if it were trying to seep under my armor, to cover my body with a sticky blanket.

This world had a life of its own: insects chirped, birds or their alien counterparts sang in the distance. In front of me was a field covered with grass of a strange olive color, and in the distance towered huge trees. Their trunks, girths larger than many buildings, were wrapped in creepers, reaching for the light.

I got down on one knee, bent over, and scooped up a handful of earth. It was damp and warm, mixed with the remains of rotting leaves, creating a soft carpet beneath my feet. Grains of sand trickled through his fingers, leaving a light dirt on his skin.

This world reminded me of Earth, the one that had once been my homeland. But in this warmth, in this life, there was no hint of the dying home I had left. Earth was rotting under the weight of its own people, drowning in ambition, pride, and a refusal to admit its mistakes.

But now...

Now it no longer mattered. All that was left behind burned away with the man I was. This world was the beginning of a new path - one where I could become someone capable of changing the course of events.

I stood up slowly, and the helmet clicked into place, closing the sealed circuit. The visor came to life, and data unfolded before my eyes: air temperature, humidity, atmospheric composition, ultraviolet light level, and many other parameters. The time of the local day flashed in the right corner - 18 hours and 54 minutes, calculated by the barely noticeable shift of the star above the horizon.

With a movement of my eyelids, I went through the available viewing modes: polarization, infrared vision, heat map, spectral analysis. I left the standard mode, but with filters on to protect my eyes from the bright light.

I pressed a few buttons on the armor panel. A scout drone floated out of the Eridian's hold, its silvery body gleaming in the sunlight. It hovered in the air, waiting for commands. I quickly entered a route and sent it forward.

Having determined the direction, I began to run. Although I had transportation in the ship, I needed to assess the armor's propulsion capabilities and practice moving around in it a bit. Despite the mass of the armor, it moved perfectly, following my every movement as if it were an extension of my body. The metal boots touched the ground softly, making almost no sound.

Along the way, I slowed down to take a deeper breath. Sensors instantly began analyzing the composition of the air, displaying a chemical picture on the screen. Carbon dioxide, nitrogen, oxygen, trace gases... nothing threatening.

I continued on my way, scrutinizing the scenery. The woodland seemed to be alive. Every tree, every bush fought for its place in the sun. The local flora resembled the Amazon jungle, but with a touch of unearthly beauty. Tree roots crawled out of the ground, wrapping around rocks that I thought were covered in strange ripples, almost like the marks of petrified waves.

Ten minutes later I reached my destination. Before me stood the entrance to the cave, a gigantic mouth twenty meters wide. A faint, musty wind blew from its depths, bringing with it a damp chill and the smell of minerals.

The drone rushed inside without question, its scanners working at full power. The first data began to pop up on the visor.

I activated the blaster spear, feeling it heavy in my hand. I switched modes on it and checked its readiness: charges were normal, cooling system was stable.

The darkness grew thicker with each step inside, but it didn't stop me from orienting myself. The armor was adjusting to the conditions, automatically turning on filters and boosting the lighting.

The drone continued to go deeper, but its scanners were starting to lose signal. It seemed the exotic materials of the cave were blocking radars and sensors. That was a bad sign.

My thoughts were interrupted by a sharp cracking sound beneath my feet. I looked down and noticed the rock under the weight of the armor beginning to crack. The cracks were spreading, connecting into a dangerous web.

- Shit!

The next second, the floor beneath me collapsed, and I screamed and flew downward, dragged into the dark abyss.