Fulcrum Gun (Savage Stars Book 4)

by Anthony James

  “In which case, we should get out of here.”

  Recker had a different idea. “Not until I’ve checked to see if I have access to the surface doors from one of these stations. Cover the entrances,” he said, crouching low and approaching the nearest console.

  The base security controller still recognized Recker’s authority and it let him access the software without jumping through any additional hoops. He soon identified a problem.

  “This terminal has access to the surface doors. The trouble is, it won’t let me open them.”

  “What is wrong?” asked Shadar.

  “There’s a separate alarm in progress for those doors, Sergeant. No doubt resulting from the billion tons of water currently sitting on top of them.”

  “Can you clear the alarm, Captain Recker?”

  “Not from here. I’m checking the procedure.” Recker opened one of the protocol files and skimmed the contents. He laughed bitterly at what he discovered. “When the alarm is triggered for the surface doors, the officer in charge of bay operations is expected to manually clear it from a specific terminal.”

  “Don’t tell me – that terminal is located in the bay,” said Vance.

  “Got it in one, Sergeant. It doesn’t sound like we’re getting out of here without paying it a visit.”

  “We must find the bay and quickly,” said Shadar.

  “There’s a map,” said Recker, calling up the file he’d been denied the time to properly look at earlier. He downloaded a copy into his helmet computer and, once that was done, he used the suit comms to send the file to the platoon.

  “Let’s find that bay,” he said, with the 3D map of the subsurface facility on his HUD. He oriented himself and pointed at the exit where Shadar waited. “That way.”

  “Not far,” said Vance.

  “Something’s got to work in our favour, Sergeant.”

  Recker waited until he was sure the soldiers were ready and then stretched across to place his hand on the access panel. The door opened onto another, similar room and he motioned Shadar to lead the way in.

  “Time to pick up our feet,” said Recker. “This underground area has numerous entrance and exit points. It could be crawling with Lavorix.”

  Shadar dashed into the room and his squad followed. Recker came next, then Vance and the rest of the platoon. The moment the door was closed behind them, Recker ordered Private Titus Enfield to plant a couple of movement-triggered charges nearby.

  Enfield didn’t require close management and he got on with it while the others moved to the next door.

  “Beyond here there’s a passage leading to what might be a workshop area,” said Recker. “That leads directly to the Lodor bay. We’re heading into the construction area, so everything’s about to get a whole lot bigger.”

  “Charges set, sir,” said Enfield. “Little ones like you asked.”

  Recker opened the next door and checked the passage. It was lined with alloy, like everything else down here and it ended twenty metres further at a second door. Entering the passage with Shadar and Gantry, Recker advanced quickly. He stopped at the panel while Gantry kicked out the MG-12 tripod and placed the weapon on the floor.

  “Ready,” he said, from his prone position.

  “Here we go,” said Recker.

  The door opened and water gushed through the opening, washing Gantry cursing along the corridor. Recker braced himself against a flow which threatened to knock him from his feet. His first instinct was to close the door again, but he noted that the water level wasn’t any more than waist high and he withdrew his hand. On the opposite side of the corridor, Shadar stood firm.

  “Not so watertight after all,” said the Daklan.

  “Private Gantry, how are you doing?” asked Recker.

  Gantry was a big man but had been caught entirely unawares. The force of the water had taken him back to the corridor entrance, where Vance and Steigers lifted him to his feet, cursing like the trooper he was.

  “Still got my gun,” said Gantry, raising the MG-12 to show he hadn’t lost his grip.

  “Shame about your dignity, huh?” said Private Ossie Carrington.

  “I’d take a gun over my dignity any day,” said Steigers. “At least when I’m in the middle of an alien shithole I would.”

  After a few seconds, the water levels equalised and the flow lessened. Recker spent the time looking into the space beyond, using the cover of the doorframe to keep out of sight. Once or twice, he felt heavy, soft objects brush past him beneath the surface. He knew what they were but paid them no heed.

  “I see no Lavorix,” said Shadar.

  The workshop was like places Recker had seen within the HPA. A cavernous room was filled with bespoke tech, every piece of which was designed for a specific purpose. Crates, lockers, robot arms, winch housings, gravity field generators and screens covered most of the wall space, in places reaching as high as the ten-metre ceiling.

  Objects rose from the water in the flooded central area and Recker could only identify a handful. He spotted what might be a cruncher unit, as well as a ternium power block, and countless partway machined components rested on huge workbenches, the tops of which were only inches above the water. A sucking, gurgling sound came from somewhere in the room – loud enough to be heard over the alarm - and he wondered if the water was draining. If it was, he saw no sign of the level dropping.

  “That way,” said Recker, pointing directly across the room.

  He couldn’t see his intended exit because of all the crap in the room. Other exits were visible – two in each of the sixty-metre left and right walls, but not the door Recker was aiming for.

  “Why would this room be flooded?” asked Shadar, clearly giving the matter some thought.

  “You think the Lavorix have been this way and brought the water with them?”

  “It is a possibility.”

  “Sir, I got a detonation alert from those charges I left in the other room,” said Enfield.

  Recker couldn’t hear anything over the gurgling, though he had no reason to doubt the report. “They’re coming for us,” he said.

  “Each time they send down a lift full of soldiers, we kick their asses,” said Raimi with satisfaction.

  “Let’s get on with this,” said Recker. He ordered Shadar’s squad into the room and called Vance and the others up to join him in the passageway. Private Carrington fell over a corpse and landed face-first in the water, losing the dignity she’d earlier accused Gantry of misplacing.

  “Still got my gun,” she said ruefully.

  Recker didn’t want to break an ankle because he wasn’t careful with his feet, and he advanced cautiously, giving a wide berth to a device nearby which resembled a tank magazine with a triple-jointed metal arm mounted on top. When he peered at the water closely enough, he could spot shapes beneath the surface. Unfortunately, the light from the alarm was such that it created many dancing reflections, while the water itself distorted both shapes and sizes. It wasn’t a big deal, but Recker wasn’t in the mood to be slowed down.

  Twenty metres ahead, Shadar and the first squad held their guns high and forged a path through the water, creating swirling patterns in their wake. Recker kept pace and when he turned to his left, found Corporal Hendrix alongside. The part of her face he could see through the helmet visor had an unhealthy sheen caused by the red light which filled the room. Her expression was one of absolute focus and she didn’t smile.

  Recker strode on, gripping his gauss rifle tightly. Movement ahead and left caught his eye and one of the doors over that way opened suddenly. Shadar had the reactions of cat and he shot several times into the opening at a target Recker couldn’t see from his position.

  “Take cover,” growled Ipanvir.

  Recker didn’t need to be asked twice and he dropped low in the water. His head was protruding, so he fell into an awkward crouch which took him lower still.

  “Rocket out.”

  The Daklan was out of sight around
a three-metre cylindrical object covered in levers, and Recker was underwater, so didn’t see the alien take aim. The cough of the rocket’s propulsion was audible on the comms channel and a split second after, the missile detonated. Flame erupted into the workshop, bright enough to illuminate the room. The outer edges of the blast didn’t come close to Recker, but the surface bubbled and an immense cloud of steam rose into the air.

  “Move!” yelled Shadar. “The enemy are numerous.”

  Recker burst from the water and found his visibility much worse than before. The alarm lights created puddles of diffuse redness in the steam and everything else was little more than grey shapes in different sizes. Hendrix was a pace away and she struggled to rise from the water, like she’d caught her foot in something. With a grunt, Recker pulled her to her feet.

  “That way,” he said, pointing again towards the exit.

  The sound of Gantry’s MG-12 came from behind, its usually hard-edged clanking discharge note muted by the steam.

  “Hostiles coming from behind,” said Sergeant Vance.

  Determined that he wouldn’t be stopped so close to his goal, Recker gave orders and, as one, the platoon made its way across the workshop.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Ipanvir’s rocket had evidently surprised the Lavorix enough that their attack from the left was stalled. This allowed the soldiers to make rapid progress towards the exit. The many obstacles in the room, along with the steam, also worked to their advantage, making it difficult for the enemy behind to locate targets. Recker heard a grenade go off near the entrance and several shots pinged against the Meklon hardware. None hit his platoon.

  “A feeble effort,” said Reklin.

  Recker agreed and he was tempted to go on the offensive. He didn’t give the order – every time he fought the Lavorix, they had the greater numbers and he didn’t want to be drawn into an extended engagement that would allow reinforcements to arrive.

  “We make for the target,” he said, in case his intentions weren’t clear to everyone. “The enemy are secondary.”

  The platoon made it to the far wall and they took cover behind whatever objects were close by. The workbenches also offered protection from inbound gunfire and a few soldiers crouched next to one, their rifles trained deeper into the room.

  “The door,” said Shadar, hitting it with his clenched fist. “My squad has it covered.”

  “Door opening,” said Recker. “Be ready for enemy soldiers or water.” He kept out of sight and hit the access panel. The door opened and he waited out a split-second during which shooting would either start, or someone would declare it clear.

  “Clear,” said Unvak.

  Water from the workshop flooded the passage in seconds. The soldiers were prepared for the current and nobody was dragged out of position. Recker glanced through the opening. Another twenty-metre passage led to a door. According to the map, the CX1 module was beyond, in the storage area of the Lodor bay – along with the terminal to remove the surface doors alarm.

  “These bastards aren’t going to give up, sir,” said Vance. “We don’t want them following us.”

  A Lavorix slug fired by an unseen opponent thudded into the wall a short distance from Recker and fell into the water with a splash. He ignored it. “If we stand our ground, we’ll lose, Sergeant. The enemy found us quickly and that makes me think they have both numbers and organization.”

  “Yes, sir. I agree.”

  While he kept up the conversation, Recker used hand signals to order Shadar into the passage. The Daklan went, along with a couple of others and Recker followed.

  “Once we’re in the bay, we’ll make straight for the terminal,” he said. “I’ll remove the alarm from the doors and that should allow me to open them from any linked console.”

  “Because we don’t want to be in the bay when those doors open,” said Corporal Montero.

  “Not if we can avoid it,” Recker nodded. His foot came down on a Meklon corpse and he grimaced.

  “Are we going to climb aboard this CX1 module and have it fly us out of here?” asked Raimi doubtfully.

  “The technical documentation indicates the module contains a few internal spaces which were no doubt used by the technicians during the construction process. So yes, we’re planning to fly out on the CX1 module if that’s the best option for us.”

  “Great, I always did want to experience flight from inside an alien super-gun power module,” said Raimi. “Shit,” he swore, firing his gauss rifle into the dispersing steam.

  Several other gauss rifles discharged and Sergeant Vance shouted orders, directing the fire towards the place where Ipanvir had launched his rocket.

  “The heat is building, sir,” he said.

  A grenade went off and then another explosive – this one much larger than a grenade – followed it. Recker turned, his eyes narrowed and he saw the blast at the far end of the room. He didn’t know what had caused it, but he was sure it hadn’t come from Private Enfield’s pack.

  At the end of passage, Recker stopped at the double-doors, his intuition bells ringing.

  “I don’t like this,” he said.

  Shadar didn’t ask questions and he waited to see what Recker would do.

  “Let’s try something.”

  Recker touched the access panel and the doors began to open. A torrent of water squirted through the seam, coming from about neck high. With an angry curse, Recker hit the access panel again and the doors closed, blocking off the flow. He waved Shadar and the other two back into the workshop and maintained his position at the doors. Quickly, he explained the situation on the comms.

  “When I open these doors, you’re all going to feel like you’re riding the rapids without a paddle or a canoe. Hold on tight and be ready.”

  Another explosion went off and the gunfire reached a new intensity. Recker had no idea if both sides were shooting at shadows or not. Either way, it wouldn’t long until someone in his platoon took a bullet.

  “What about you, sir?” asked Hendrix.

  With his back to the doorframe, Recker had a good view into the workshop.

  “I’ll be swept into one of those workbenches,” he said. “I’ll grab something.”

  “That’s an awful plan, sir.”

  “I don’t like it any better than you, Corporal. Now get ready.”

  Time was tight and sometimes Recker knew it was best to just go with a plan before his brain could intervene and start pointing out the multitude of downsides. He pushed himself against the doorframe and held his feet to the floor. Without giving himself time to think, he crashed his palm onto the access panel.

  With a hum of motors, the doors opened and water rushed into the passage. From his place at the side, Recker was protected from the initial deluge. His respite was short lived and the weight of the water, along with the rising level, dislodged him, lifting him up and carrying him headfirst towards the workshop room.

  The water was dirty and fast-flowing. Even unencumbered he would not have been able to resist, and he was pulled under. The current was strong and Recker found himself unable to control the position of his body. His helmet thumped against the floor and then he saw the dead face of a Meklon only a few inches away as its body accompanied him on his journey. In contrast to all the others, this one looked almost at peace, with closed eyes and a serene, knowing expression.

  Twisting away, Recker hunted for something to grab hold of. Already, he was confused, unsure which way was up. Protected by his suit, he could breathe easily, but without it he knew he would have been in real trouble.

  Suddenly, Recker’s mind cleared. He’d piloted spaceships for years and every engagement was conducted on three axes, against opponents who be anywhere and who could attack from any direction. And here he was, fighting panic in a few feet of water.

  Turning his head, Recker saw the light from an explosion ahead. He sensed a larger space around him and he knew he’d been carried into the workshop. Battling the water for co
ntrol of his body, he threw out a hand at something which might have been the leg of a workbench. His fingertips brushed something solid and failed to grip. He tried again and failed for a second time.

  Just when Recker thought he might be washed all the way to the enemy soldiers, an arm plunged into the water and fingers dug tenaciously into his wrist. The arm held him in place and he used the opportunity to grab one of the workbench legs. There he clung, waiting for the current to subside.

  Gotcha,” said Hendrix on a private channel.

  The moment he could plant his feet on the floor without them being dragged away, Recker did so and he poked his head above the surface. The level in the room was at his shoulders. Hendrix rose next to him, the water up to her nose.

  “Much appreciated, Corporal.”

  “What’s the reward for saving the life of a senior officer?”

  Recker’s eyes widened. “I’ll think on it.” He laughed. “I promise.”

  “You do that. Sir.” She winked and saluted, leaving Recker momentarily open-mouthed.

  The moment didn’t last and Recker chastised himself for not dealing with other priorities. Luckily, Vance and Shadar were on the case, organizing the soldiers and making sure nobody was lost in the deluge. The gunfire had stopped and Recker hoped the Lavorix had been taken unawares and swept into one of the far rooms.

  “All present and accounted for, sir,” said Vance.

  Recker headed into the passage again. With his rifle in one hand, he used the other to help him through the water by sweeping his arm in a half breaststroke. Before he was anywhere near the bay, he was beginning to get an idea of the problems which lay ahead.

  “Damn, looks like a real bay,” said Montero. “Where you’d sail a yacht or something.”

  A few of the soldiers muttered agreement and, privately, Recker also thought Montero’s assessment was accurate, so long as he ignored the vertical alloy walls, the huge pieces of alien tech protruding above the surface and the curtain of water falling from what he guessed was a non-watertight seal in the bay doors.