Free Hellworld (Deathstalker Prelude) by Simon R. Green

the trees at the forest’s boundary became firm and solid. Dirty yellow leaves hung from steady iron-black branches, and the gnarled boles were thick arçd sturdy. But further within, the darkness still stirred and writhed. Indistinct forms came and went, and the few shapes Hunter could make out were strangely disturbing, as though they hovered on the edge of meaning without ever achieving it. His hand itched for his disrupter. The forest offended him. He wanted to burn it to the ground, cleanse it with fire, punish it for pretending to be something it wasn’t. In an alien world, where nothing looks or feels right, there’s a constant temptation to see the familiar in things that bear only a slight resemblance to the original memory. The forest had looked reassuringly normal, almost comforting. Hunter had badly wanted to find at least one place on his new world where he could feel safe and at ease. Now that had been denied him. The forest had betrayed him by being alien.
    Investigator Krystel studied her two companions dispassionately as they walked along together. The Captain was going to be a problem. He wasn’t being decisive enough. From her own experience in the field she knew that staying alive on an alien world depended on quick thinking and quicker reflexes. If the Captain had listened to the esper’s warnings, the forest wouldn’t have caught them unaware. The Captain was too trusting. Krystel smiled slightly. There was only one rule to follow in studying the alien: be prepared to shoot first.
    She had her orders. In the event that Hunter proved unsatisfactory as team leader, she was to replace him. By force, if necessary. It shouldn’t be too difficult. The doctor wouldn’t oppose her; he was weak, and easily swayed. The marines would follow orders, no matter who they came from, providing they were given confidently enough. And the esper would do as she was told. Espers knew their place. But when all was said and done, Krystel had no wish to be team leader. She didn’t care for the work or the responsibility of giving orders. She worked best when others set the goals and restrictions for her. She knew where she was then. Her role as Investigator left her free to concentrate on the things that really interested her. Like killing aliens. So she’d give Hunter all the rope he needed. And only hang him with it if it proved necessary.
    The alien city troubled her. Technically, she should have insisted on contacting the Empire the moment they discovered the city’s existence, but she didn’t want to do that, just yet. Firstly, she’d look a fool if it turned out to be nothing more than a deserted ruin. They’d accuse her of panicking. And secondly, if she reported the city, the Empire would take it away from her. They wouldn’t trust her to do the job properly; not after Grendel. The Fleet would send their own team in, and they’d get all the glory. Krystel wanted this city for herself. She’d use it to prove to the Empire that they’d been wrong about her. She was still an Investigator.
    She tapped into the pinnace’s computers, and ran the records on the city. The strange towers and monoliths lay superimposed on the scene before her, like pale, disturbing ghosts. The patterns and buildings matched nothing she’d seen anywhere else, which was something of a relief. The Empire’s main fear had always been that someday it would run into an alien counterpart. So far, interstellar war was nothing more than a computer fantasy, and everyone fervently hoped it would stay that way. After the discoveries on Grendel, the computer predictions had become increasingly gloomy. Whatever had created the living killing machines on Grendel was quite possibly even more deadly and implacable than the Empire itself.
    Aliens. As yet there had been no sightings of who or whatever built the city, but still Krystel felt a familiar tingle of excitement running through her at the thought of encountering a new alien species.