The bay itself was an approximate square, about fifteen hundred metres along each side. An alarm sounded, louder and more irritating than elsewhere, and the light was the same red colour. The squad had entered midway along one of the walls and Recker spotted two other personnel-sized entrances a few hundred metres away. On the left and right walls, huge, square doors rose far out of the water and were evidently used by construction vehicles. The light was poor and Recker couldn’t see much of the farthest wall, thought he couldn’t miss the thousands of bodies which bobbed on the surface. A droning of engines brought his attention to a pair of hundred-metre lifter shuttles, which their autopilots held stationary in the air not far below the entrance to the three-hundred-metre-wide exit shaft. He attempted to link with them and the effort failed.
In the opposite-left corner, a stack of mid-sized warship armour plates would never be used in combat, while a rack of missiles would never be fired. In the centre of the bay, the CX1 module hovered a few inches above the rising water, surrounded by cranes and a half-dozen welding robots. The torrent pouring through the bay doors landed directly on top of it, creating a mist from the spray and producing a roar like a waterfall.
“There it is, folks,” said Recker.
“Doesn’t look like much,” said Drawl.
“No it doesn’t, Private, but if we’re lucky, that thing is going to help us break the Galactar’s shield.”
“And then we’ll put a ten-klick hole in its armour,” said Steigers.
“That we will,” said Recker.
His mouth talked, but his mind wasn’t on the conversation and his eyes remained on his target. In appearance, the CX1 module was exactly like the 3D model he’d seen on the Fulcrum. It was grey in colour and slightly irregular, with vertical sides sloping at different, but shallow angles. At 220 metres, it was much taller than its widest point of 140 metres. Had Recker seen the CX1 module lying in a construction yard somewhere on an HPA planet, he wouldn’t have spared it a second glance.
“Which way, sir?” asked Vance. He was unusually on edge, though this was a particularly unusual situation. “This place is filling up.”
The last of the soldiers was in the bay and Recker closed the entrance door, which he hoped would slow the Lavorix. With that done, he loaded the 3D map onto his HUD and zoomed it in to obtain a close-up view of the bay.
“There’s a station over there,” he said, pointing across to the right-hand wall. A few crates rose above the water in that direction and a low building was situated between them. “I can’t think of any other place it could be.”
Vance checked over his shoulder towards the nearby door. It was evident what he was thinking.
“That’s about eight hundred metres, sir. If the Lavorix show up, we’ll be in the crap.”
The HPA military taught its soldiers how to fight in all conditions, but the neck deep in water training wasn’t often useful in the war against the Daklan. Vance didn’t like it, and that told Recker the man wasn’t confident he could turn a good outcome if the pressure got too high.
“Sergeant Shadar?” asked Recker. The water only came up to the Daklan’s chest, though his expression suggested he wasn’t happy to be standing in it.
“My thoughts echo those of Sergeant Vance,” he said. “In this environment, luck will play a greater part than I would like.”
“Maybe we could stay underwater,” suggested Montero. “There’s plenty of radiation down here from those nukes. That could screw with the Lavorix sensors.”
“This may be a stupid question, sir,” Drawl began.
“Yup,” said Private Carrington.
“Couldn’t you just interface with one of those shuttles up there and call it down so we can fly across the bay in style?” Drawl finished.
“It’s a good question, Private,” said Recker. “The first thing I did when we came here was try to interface, but those shuttles are also locked down. I assume their control systems would otherwise have authority to open the bay doors and since those doors caused the alarm, anything with access to operate them is subject to the same hold order.”
“I see,” said Drawl.
“We’re wasting time,” said Recker.
With that, he set off in the direction of the control station. Eight hundred metres wasn’t far in a shuttle, but with Recker in deep water, it seemed like a whole lot further.
Chapter Twenty-Four
By the halfway point, the water level had risen above Recker’s head, forcing him to progress through a combination of swimming and walking. With each stride, he thrust with his leading leg in order to bring his eyes above the surface so that he could watch for enemies and to keep his bearings. Others who were shorter than Recker simply remained beneath the surface, walking awkwardly and relying on the weight of their kit to hold them to the bottom.
The Daklan, being mostly a foot or more taller than the human soldiers, were not yet submerged, though it wouldn’t be long before they too were underwater.
“Bodies everywhere,” said Carrington. “This place must have been busy when the Lavorix arrived.”
The corpses she referred to either floated or clung to the bottom, depending on whether the Meklon inhabiting them had been wearing a spacesuit when the Extractor hit. Those in suits were preserved and stayed underwater. Those who were exposed to the air had putrefied, though not so much as Recker expected, and they were made buoyant by the gases in their bodies. Having seen enough of death, he didn’t want to think too much about another few thousand murdered aliens and kept focus on his goal.
“The door behind us opened and then closed,” said Shadar. “I see no Lavorix, but they must be coming.”
“A second door opened in the faraway corner,” said Ipanvir. “I detect movement.”
“Damnit!” said Recker. “Are we seen?”
“Unconfirmed.”
“Stay low,” Recker ordered, keeping his head beneath the surface.
He pressed on, making great arcs with his free arm to pull himself through the water. His gauss rifle wouldn’t be much use, but he felt better with it in his hand.
“Will the enemy be able to guess our destination, sir?” asked Vance.
“I wish I knew the answer to that, Sergeant.”
“There’s no way they’re catching up with us,” said Raimi. “We got too much of a head start.”
“Not unless having four arms means they can swim really fast,” said Drawl.
“Four arms or zero arms, they’re wearing suits like we are and carrying guns like we are,” said Gantry. “That makes them slow in the water.”
Having seen how quickly the Lavorix could run, Recker didn’t want to discover that his enemy could also swim like fishes. He bowed his head, leaned into the water and pushed hard with his legs. Gradually his technique improved and he was able to make increased progress without expending any more energy than necessary.
The distance counter in his HUD estimated another three hundred metres separated the squad from the target building and Recker’s breathing deepened as he toiled onwards. He was beginning to wonder if the nearby ocean contained the filthiest water imaginable, since his visibility through it was terrible even with the assistance of the alarm lights. Recker wanted a sight of the bay control station, but all he could see were Meklon bodies and the swirling eddies made by the nearby soldiers.
At one hundred metres from target, Recker spotted movement ahead. He activated his heat and movement sensors, neither of which functioned reliably underwater. His vision became filled with dark blues and blacks, but amongst them, he spotted a flash of mingled red and orange.
Recker called out a warning at the same time as a couple of the soldiers did the same. He spotted other movement nearby and was unsure if it was the same target or a different one.
“I’ll get the bastard,” said Private Givens.
The soldier was close enough that Recker could see the man take clumsy aim and fire. Slugs erupted from the barrel of his gauss rifle,
leaving faint trails as they went. The projectiles travelled no more than a metre or two before the drag left them spent and they sank to the floor.
“You’re not going to hit anything underwater with that rifle, Private,” snapped Corporal Montero. “Didn’t they teach you that?”
Givens was permanently surly after his demotion. “I guess I must’ve forgotten, Corporal.”
“I will show you,” said Sergeant Shadar. As he spoke the words, the Daklan took a double-handed grip on his thick-barrelled rifle and fired. He adjusted and fired again, then a third time.
The bullets exiting Shadar’s gun traced a white line through the gloom. Recker’s eyes followed their trajectory and he smiled when they connected with the red-orange shape of the Lavorix.
“And again,” said Shadar.
The Daklan fired more slugs, this time at a Lavorix soldier Recker couldn’t see. Itrol and Lumis also fired their guns and the tracer lines crossed in the water, heading for separate targets.
“We should go, Captain Recker. Before more arrive.”
Recker was already on his way. He didn’t know if the Lavorix had pinpointed the location of his platoon or if this was a case of bad luck.
“Were they definite kills?” he asked.
“I cannot confirm,” said Shadar.
“If they got out a comms call, we’re in the shit.”
“Yes.”
“Hey Sergeant Shadar, how come your guns are working and ours aren’t?” asked Gantry.
“Supercavitation.”
“What?”
“A pocket of gas in front of the projectile. No more questions!” said Shadar, his voice leaving no room for argument.
Having learned that his enemy could indeed travel quickly through water, Recker’s frustration at his own slow pace became increasingly difficult to handle. Anger wasn’t helping and he kept a lid on it.
With fifty metres to go, Litos gave a warning and began shooting into the darkness. A fast-moving trail shot past Recker’s head and then another. He twisted, hunting for the enemy. Another red-orange shape appeared and then vanished. Slugs from the Daklan guns went after it, travelling faster than the Lavorix.
Return shots came, streaking through the water. One hit Recker in the thigh and he grunted in pain, looking down to inspect what he thought was an injury. The material of his suit was scuffed, but the projectile had come at an angle and deflected without penetrating to his skin beneath. It didn’t matter that the impact hurt like hell, Recker knew how lucky he was and he pushed on.
The target building wasn’t far. With his soldiers around him, Recker made it to the door and he activated the panel. Water rushed into the interior, carrying him inside along with several others who were caught in the current. Raimi cried out in pain and Recker thought the man had landed badly. Then he noticed the soldier was holding his stomach.
“Corporal Hendrix! Raimi’s injured!”
“Feels like I got punched in the guts.”
Several of the Daklan lingered outside, as if they were reluctant to enter the station. “Get in,” Recker ordered.
“We should guard the entrance from outside, Captain Recker,” said Shadar. “Otherwise we will be trapped on the wrong side of a choke point.”
“That’s not going to happen, Sergeant. Get in,” Recker repeated.
Shadar and the last few Daklan swam into the building and Recker closed the door behind them.
“Keep watch,” he ordered.
Recker turned away to get a view of what he believed was the control station. The single room was large and filled to the top level of the door with water. A few corpses floated up there and Recker swam beneath them as he headed towards the far wall.
That wall was covered in screens, all showing feeds from sensors positioned around the bay. In front of those screens was a console sized for three personnel, along with red cloth seats which might once have been comfortable.
“It’s in sleep mode,” said Recker once he was standing in front of the console. He reached out and touched one of the panels. The hardware woke up and offered a request for input.
“How’s Raimi doing?” he asked, searching for the alarm shutoff.
“You remember that medical bot on the Fulcrum, sir? He’s going to need it.”
Recker swore. Losing another soldier would be a kick in the balls and failing the mission would be another. He left Hendrix to do her job and hunted through the menus. Having plenty of experience with the Meklon software under his belt, Recker found what he was looking for.
“Got it,” he said, clearing the door alarm. The red lights in the control station and the bay went out and were replaced by an illumination that was tinged with soft yellow.
“Does that mean we’re ready to go, sir?” asked Sergeant Vance.
“Not quite, Sergeant.”
Recker accessed the bay monitors. The sensors were vastly more capable than those in his suit helmet and he used them to scan the bay. What he saw made him swear angrily.
“The place is full of Lavorix,” he said. “Hundreds of the bastards and they’re coming our way.”
“Can we fly out in one of those shuttles now?” asked Drawl.
Recker was already evaluating the possibility. The first problem he noticed was that the shuttles weren’t armed and even if they were, the water level was high enough that a plain old nose gun wasn’t likely to kill the Lavorix if they remained near the bottom. On top of that, the soldiers would be extremely vulnerable to explosives while they boarded.
Which left only one possibility.
“I’m opening the bay doors and sending the CX1 module up to the Fulcrum,” said Recker. “Once we can see daylight – or whatever the hell it is above the surface - a comms signal should get through.”
“What about us, sir?” asked Vance.
“Those Meklon shuttles can’t take out the Lavorix but a plasma missile can,” said Recker. Privately, he thought the Maglors would displace water fast enough that they’d do the same job. It would make an interesting test, but maybe at a different time.
“I hope this works, sir.”
“Me too, Sergeant.”
Recker poised his finger over the surface door activation button on the touch panel, wondering what he was about to unleash. Without further delay, he stabbed with his finger and turned his gaze to the monitoring screens.
The narrow curtain of water thickened and crashed into the bay with growing weight. With each passing second, the deluge increased in ferocity and Recker could only stare as it thundered down, concealing the CX1 module within its shroud.
“Fulcrum, this is Recker, please acknowledge.”
The battleship’s comms receptor was grey, though he saw it flicker briefly to green. As he waited for the signal strength to increase, Recker kept his attention on the bay feeds. The water level climbed rapidly and the inrush from the surface was creating currents which the Lavorix were unable to resist. The aliens were either sucked under or pulled helplessly along. Many were dashed against the walls or other objects in the bay.
“Have that, you scumbags,” said Montero with satisfaction.
Although Recker was glad to see his enemy suffer, he didn’t think it likely their numbers would be sufficiently reduced. Once the bay filled and the currents lessened, the Lavorix would remember what they were here for and they’d resume their approach on the control station. Recker didn’t plan on letting them have it easy.
“Fulcrum, this is Recker, please acknowledge.”
The comms channel formed and strengthened. “I hear you, sir,” said Lieutenant Burner.
“We’re in the bay,” said Recker. “What’s your position?”
“Same place as you left us, sir.”
“I’m at the control station for the CX1 module, but we’re under pressure from the Lavorix. I’ll send up the module. Once it’s clear, we need your assistance.”
“I’ve got your position from the signal direction,” said Burner. “We’ll leav
e that area untouched.”
“Don’t hit those shuttles either – we’re planning to escape in one.”
“Roger that, sir.”
With the Fulcrum’s crew ready, Recker sent the order to the CX1 module. The Meklon had programmed it with a flight routine that would fly it automatically to the Tri-Cannon and drop it in place. Recker liked the easy solutions.
“There it goes,” said Montero. “The answer to all our problems.”
Recker watched it leave. The bay doors were wide apart and the bay itself was almost full. Water in any quantity wasn’t enough to stop a ternium propulsion system and the CX1 module climbed vertically, seemingly unaffected by its environment.
“We see it coming, sir,” said Burner. “A few seconds and it’ll be out of the water.”
“Has the wave receded?”
“No, sir – the situation is worse than it was before. A couple more waves came after the first – the water extends much further inland than Oracon-1.”
“There’s nobody left to care about the mess. When are those missiles coming?”
“Commander Aston doesn’t want to make a mistake. That bay is going to fill with steam, sir. It’s going to be an inhospitable place until the heat dies down.”
“It’ll be like the fires of hell, Lieutenant,” Recker said. “As long as you don’t aim too close or fire too many, we’ll be fine where we are.”
“The CX1 module has broken from the water, sir. It’s coming up to meet us. The first missile is heading your way.”
A plasma warhead struck the water a second later. Down it came, its booster leaving a burning, glowing trail. Recker narrowed his eyes in anticipation and the missile detonated in a flash of white. The sensor feeds attenuated and the glare faded, granting him a vision of heat and turbulence, while the shockwave from the blast echoed dully through the walls of the control station. Despite his outward confidence that those walls would hold, Recker’s jaw was tense and he didn’t let his gaze waver.
“Ready for a second?” asked Burner.
“Do it.”
A second plasma blast created yet more chaos and another shockwave hit the control station. Recker had initially thought the heat and steam would be the primary killers but having felt the power of those shocks as they travelled through the water, he was sure the Lavorix had a third big problem to contend with.
Fulcrum Gun (Savage Stars Book 4) Page 20
