by T. R. Harris
All the bolts missed except the last one, which bounced harmlessly off the aft diffusion shield.
“Sorry,” she said. “I told you it’s been a while. I’ll get the feel back.”
At the speeds they were traveling, it was crucial to anticipate the movements of the enemy. Flash cannon bolts were ballistic, and once released, their course couldn’t be altered. That was also the reason near-telepathic communication and intuition between pilot and gunner was so important. Both had to be in sync, knowing what the other was going to do to make an effective team. Sherri and Adam had been doing this for twenty years, but nothing in the last two. It would take a little practice to shake off the cobwebs.
Now it was Adam’s turn to go on the defensive. The Cartel ship completed its own loop, coming over the top of the Joyner while unleashing a barrage of bolts. Adam corkscrewed out of harm’s way, eliciting a squeal of excitement from his gunner. The inertial compensators kept them from being tossed about or even feeling the sensation of movement. But the graphic representation of the battle on various monitors around the bridge was like being in the middle of an exciting virtual-reality video game. Good moves were appreciated.
“I’m coming about,” Adam said. “Portside lineup.”
“Got it. Bolts away.”
Sherri’s shots were not expected to strike the Cartel ship. Instead, they were intended to make it move in a certain direction to avoid being hit. Adam adjusted course, intercepting the other ship right where he was hoping. Sherri released more armament, filling the path of the enemy ship. Two bolts hit the portside screens. On Sherri’s monitors she saw one of them flicker, signifying a direct absorption of the energy bolt. This was both good and bad for the crew of the Cartel ship. It meant they were spared any lasting hull damage. It also meant that that diffusion screen was at full capacity, and another hit would knock it out of service.
“Damn!”
Adam was too busy marveling at his fancy maneuver that he wandered into an enemy spread. A bolt contacted the forward starboard side screen, showing sixty-percent absorption. One more solid hit and that screen would be down.
“I’m going under,” he called out to Sherri.
“Go for it!”
As he shoved the control stick forward, the focusing rings for the bow gravity-well changed orientation, pulling the ship down and then over. The starfield blurred through the viewport before settling down once the circle was complete. The move placed both ships only a few thousand feet apart and traveling in essentially the same direction. With the proximity of the combatants, the need to lead the target was gone. Fortunately, Sherri was quicker at the button than was the Cartel gunner. Adam felt a succession of burps through the hull as Sherri fired another spread, striking the enemy warship the blink of an eye later.
Bolts fed into the diffusion screens, overloading two of the panels before the trailing bolts reached the hull. Adam spun the Tirrell Joyner away just before the Cartel vessel exploded, preventing them from catching any stray shrapnel.
“That was fun,” Sherri said as Adam adjusted course back to Masnin. “I told you I’d get my mojo back.”
“Never any doubt. But you know next time, they won’t send just one ship after us.”
“So, what do we do? We have to get to the surface. And I don’t mean as a ball of flaming wreckage either.”
“How about this?”
Just then, all the power on the ship went off. Screens turn black, gravity disappeared, and even the ventilation system shut down. The Joyner was now in dark status, giving out no outward energy signatures while zipping through space on momentum only, aimed at the planet Masnin.
“That’s great,” Sherri said. “We’re invisible. We still need power to land.”
“I’ll power up when the time comes. We’re about ten minutes out at this speed. I’ll use gas bursts to move around to the dark side and try to disguise a short gravity burst behind that giant volcano.”
The volcano was one of those Olympus Mons monsters, easily reaching twice the height of Mt. Everest. Adam could keep the Joyner in its shadow most of the way in and then skim along the surface the rest of the way to the landing site.
Sherri had downloaded the schematics for the various abandoned mines of the planet, and now she studied them on a battery-operated datapad, focusing on the one at the location where the Cartel ships were parked.
“This seems to be the main mine site. Huge place and really deep. Not sure how the Cartel decided on this location, but it makes sense.”
“Riyad told them.”
“But how did he know?”
Adam shrugged. “Jay?”
“That’s possible. And how did he find out? This is a raider location. I don’t think Jay is part of the raiders … or is he?”
“I don’t think he’s smart enough to keep that a secret for so long. Somehow either he or Riyad found out where the weapons are being stored. That big-eyed bastard only moved after Riyad got back, and then they took him and Jay with them.”
“Insurance in case they weren’t telling the truth?”
“That’s also a possibility. But more likely, they still need their help.” He snorted. “These are all good questions that will be answered in a few minutes. Get ready to break out the environmental suits. I’ll get us in as close as I can, but we could still have a little hike ahead of us.”
29
Captain Belan Belash entered the vast chamber leading a force of sixty enthusiastic raider troops. Just as he, they were excited by the promise of one hundred thousand Juirean credits each for the defense of the fifty shipping containers in the mine. That was a lot of money, especially for a raider—even a captain.
Belan often wondered why so many creatures gravitated to this line of work. He knew his reasons; command of fighting troops and a decent share of the bounty. But he’d already spent time as a military commander by the time he immigrated to The Dead Zone. He was offered more of a share going in.
But the common raider made very little, a practice Belan learned later was intentional. Worker pirates weren’t allowed to make a fortune off a single raid, otherwise captains would be replacing their crews after every operation. Instead, they were paid just enough to keep them satisfied, but not enough on which to retire.
However, for most of the sixty fighters waiting for his orders, a hundred thousand credits was a fortune.
But it wasn’t Belan offering the credits to the raiders; Dal Divisen did that, although he and Belan’s second officer were the only ones who knew it. The average raider wasn’t aware who pulled their strings; only the top captains. And Dal had personally tasked Belan with the defense of the containers.
The captain figured that was because he knew what was in them. He had commanded one of the three ships that raided the Hax’on salvage site, even as Lospen Calos was in overall command. Belan was surprised not to find Calos here. He knew why the third commander—Captain Kammos—wasn’t; his ship and crew had been lost only the day before, the result of a freak explosion aboard their vessel. It was tragic, but these things happened. Even so, it seemed to Belan events were moving fast. It had only been a handful of days since he and the others offloaded the shipping containers on L-7, and now Divisen was concerned others were coming to steal them back. Again, knowing of the weapons, Belan could understand. The thousands of prototype flash rifles were built for a reason, and one did not simply write off the loss after they disappeared. Attempts at recovery must first be made.
Belan didn’t question Dal when the link came through two days ago, assigning him the defense of the containers. The crime boss had better information than Belan. If he said the weapons were in jeopardy, then it was so. Someone was coming to Masnin, and they had to be stopped. And when the most recent link came in from Liave-3 only minutes before, telling him the enemy was on the way, Belan was ready.
He was now in one of the deeper sections of the abandoned mine, with three ways into the chamber. The main access tunnel was wide a
nd tall, allowing motorized vehicles to transport the containers to and from the cavern. The other two tunnels were smaller, too small to move the pods through them. There was also a small emergency escape tunnel at the rear of the chamber that the raiders dug when they first came to Masnin. It was narrow, able to only accommodate a single column of raiders in the case of emergency. Belan developed his defense plan only the day before. Now he was about to put it into motion.
Belan called over his fellow officers and began issuing orders.
“Set charges at the main entrance, as well as C-Corridor. Collapse the tunnels when all is clear.”
“Collapse?” asked one of the officers.
“Yes. We have been tasked with protecting the containers and their contents. If we are driven out, then the contents will have to be moved from the cavern in their individual crates, rather than in the larger containers. In that contingency, we will reform and launch a secondary effort to reacquire the contents.”
“Would it not be wise then to collapse all three corridors and escape through the rear tunnel?” asked another.
“That would be one way of defending the contents. Yet if we did, we would have no way to remove the contents until the tunnels are cleared. With other parties interested in their retrieval, I am told we do not have the time nor resources for that. We have here a very defensible position, and we are being paid handsomely for our efforts. I will follow my instructions, as will you.”
Belan was ordered not to divulge the nature of the contents to those who didn’t already know. To violate this restriction meant forfeiture of the bonus. He was also told not to go in the containers, lest someone learn of the contents. Even so, he could see on the faces of the other officers that they wanted to ask. But no one dared. They were curious, but not curious enough to risk one hundred thousand JCs.
“Once the other two tunnels are blocked, we will have only B-Corridor to defend.” Belan continued. “There are side passageways along this tunnel. Station troops at each intersection in crossfire positions. Prepare them to fall back successively if need be. Place the bulk of our defenders at the entrance to the main chamber. Now go, direct your crews. I have been informed the invaders have landed outside. They will be here soon.”
30
“Did you hear that?” Sirous asked.
He was in the rear of the large column of Cartel soldiers moving through the wide central tunnel, following the directions of a technician with a radiation meter. They were about half a mile from the main source, and on a constant downward slope.
The rumbling vibration continued through the bedrock.
“Explosions?” Pannel questioned.
“To block access to the chamber?” The big-eyed alien had removed his thick glasses, content in the dim lighting of the abandoned mine. There was a single strip of gas lighting pods tacked to the high ceiling, guiding their way. They passed dusty mining equipment and electric haulers, all of whose batteries had long since drained. Still, the center of the tunnel was clear of dust, having been cleaned by the hundreds of tracks from the raider’s transports moving through the passageway.
Riyad could tell there had been a lot of traffic through here, but he wasn’t convinced it was only for the shipping containers. Already the hundred or so heavily armed and suited-up soldiers were checking each side room, ostensibly for enemy troops. Instead, they’d found a wealth of stolen goods—tons of it, in fact—taken from the hundred worlds in The Zone. The place was packed with treasure, and Riyad could see the soldiers becoming anxious. They were Cartel members, used to being on the receiving end of pirate operations. They were leaving a lot of money on the table.
Riyad laughed. He’d witnessed a strange dynamic recently, watching as the Cartel looked down their noses, snouts, or trunks at the raiders. Pirates, it seemed, were a lower breed of criminal in the eyes of the Cartel, even as Riyad saw them as one and the same. He had once commanded a fleet of pirate vessels, molding them into the most-feared fighting force in The Fringe. He didn’t feel pirates were second-class crooks. But to Pannel and his people, they were.
Now the Cartel captain was having difficulty keeping his people in line. They were passing millions of credits in contraband and doing nothing about it.
The sound of the two distinct explosions served to refocus their attention. So far, they hadn’t encountered any enemy fighters, but evidently, they were here. The small army passed through the huge airlock without incident and were now only minutes from their destination. Pannel warned about traps and sent a small advance force up ahead looking for them. So far, nothing.
Riyad squinted into the dim distance. The tunnel seemed to come to an end up ahead, and the pressurized air was beginning to fill with smoke and dust, coming from in front of them.
A soldier ran up to Pannel.
“The tunnel is blocked ahead. Scouts have detected a second collapsed tunnel.” He held out a datapad. “That leaves only one tunnel leading deeper into the mine. That one appears to be clear.”
“We are being steered in that direction. There is no other entrance?”
The soldier shook his diamond-shaped, bright orange head. “Not on the charts. But there is no guarantee that our information is accurate, seeing that these records are several years old.”
Sirous was listening. “I do not think the raiders would engage in much tunneling of their own. There was no need. They have come here for convenience. The storage chambers are ready-made.”
“I agree,” said Pannel. “We will move along the last tunnel. Prepare for action.” The soldier rushed off.
“Shouldn’t we have weapons, too?” Riyad asked. “Seeing that you want us to assist in the recovery.”
“So you can use the weapons against us?” Sirous questioned.
“All one hundred of you heavily-armed soldiers? Yeah, sounds like something I’d do.”
“Save your sarcasm. If the time comes, you will be provided weapons. Until then, stay quiet.”
The Cartel force shifted over to a side tunnel and then continued deeper underground. Six minutes later, the first sounds of fighting echoed through the corridor.
“We have engaged,” Pannel announced after listening to his comm.
“Like, duh?” Riyad said. He looked at Jay. The salvager was terrified. Riyad knew it wasn’t because he was afraid of combat. He was terrified of what was to come after the battle. Whether the Cartel, or the pirates came out victorious, he was pretty sure both he and Riyad were fucked. He didn’t believe Sirous would let them go. Neither did Riyad. And that was why he was looking around desperately for a way out. Sirous was right not to arm them. Riyad wouldn’t take on all one hundred Cartel soldiers, just enough so they could get away.
People were moving now, deploying into squads and pressing forward. Riyad was back with Sirous and Pannel, out of harm’s way, but he could still see into the battlefield.
Flash bolts lit up the smoke-filled corridor. Defenders were stationed at cross passageways, firing desperately at the advancing troops. It was a losing battle. The Cartel came equipped with hundreds of small grenades, anticipating this kind of action. The explosives were anti-personnel; not strong enough to affect the granite walls, but enough to rip alien flesh to shreds.
Intersection after intersection was being cleared with very few Cartel casualties.
However, the pirates were putting up a stiff defense, and the closer they got to the source of the radioactive signal, the more intense the fighting. Here the raiders were employing larger, tripod-mounted flash cannon. The powerful bolts from these weapons streaked down the corridor, even ricocheting off the stone walls and tumbling along the floor before dissipating, striking Cartel soldiers along the way.
Pannel had his people lay back and fire more powerful missiles into the chamber. The fighting continued unabated.
“It’s not on the plans,” Sherri said, checking her datapad again. “But it’s definitely an airlock. It has to lead somewhere.”
“It’s b
etter than trying to follow the Cartel bastards into the mine through the front door,” Adam agreed. “And from the booms and vibrations below us, the battle has already begun.”
“We have to find Riyad.” Sherri didn’t have to say more. With the start of the fighting, there was no telling how much longer Sirous and Pannel would keep him alive. Sherri was being driven by fear. It gave her courage where maybe caution should have been the plan.
Adam brought the Tirrell Joyner down behind the massive volcano as planned, then skipped along the surface to a point about three miles from the entrance to the mine and sitting atop a low-lying hill. As far as they knew, their approach was unseen, but by the time they made the short hike to where they now stood, the battle was already underway.
The odd-looking metal box/tube stood out against the grey landscape, being hard to miss. It was a salvaged airlock from a starship, barely large enough for two people to fit inside. The electronics worked, tied as they were into the main grid for the mine. That was encouraging. The airlock was here for a purpose and not just a remnant from the old mining operations. Adam and Sherri crowded in and activated the mechanism.
It worked, and to their relief, they were able to open their helmets for breaths of fresh, pressurized air once the lock cycled through. They were now in a tunnel carved crudely out of the bedrock, with a series of equally rough-cut stairsteps leading down. There was no light in the tunnel, so they used their helmet lamps to light the way.
Before leaving the Joyner, Adam and Sherri armed up. They each had double-holster utility belts around their waists, with MK-17s in each holder, along with six extra battery packs. They also carried Xan-fi Model AX-4s energy rifles. These were short-barrel weapons better suited for close-quarters-combat. In backpacks on their backs, they had five extra battery packs for each.
Adam also carried an eighteen-inch long projection sword dangling from his utility belt. It was the closest thing he’d found to a lightsaber in the galaxy, and it had become his backup weapon of choice recently.
