“He had a plan to get the company together again,” Bukk said. “The codex was compromised. You said so yourself.”
“And who’s to say Snowman didn’t do it himself, huh? He ran, Bukk. So, I’m going to find him and retire like the rich man I should be after all these years. He’s been squirreling money away from the company for years. His little fund must be over a few hundred million credits by now. He was my partner, and he stole from me! Nobody does that without paying for it in blood. So, yeah, I’m gonna give him up. You and your friends aren’t going to stop me.” DuPont moved quickly from his command chair to the bridge hatch. “Lockdown code Sierra Alpha Two. Authorize DuPont Beta Charlie.”
<
DuPont stepped through the hatch, turned around and locked eyes with Rains, and grinned. As the door slid shut, Rains snorted the breath he’d been holding painfully in his chest. “You’re a traitor, DuPont.”
“Better than being a pussy like you, Rains.” The hatch slid closed.
“That sonuvabitch,” Rains said but did not move. Taking the bait would undoubtedly end his life and give DuPont the satisfaction Rains wanted to wipe from the man’s face—preferably with the soles of his boots.
Vannix chuckled. “I’d have said something much worse if I were you.”
“A first for you, no doubt,” Rains sat gently back against the cushioned chair and tried to calm himself. “We have to figure out how to get off the bridge and stop—”
<
Rains and Vannix looked at each other, then at Bukk. The Altar’s antennae bounced in amusement. “That was easy.”
“How did you—?” Vannix and Rains spoke at the same time, then stopped.
“I noticed the weapons pylons were attracted to movement greater than 0.15 meters per second. Moving slowly, I had the control code open by the time he received gate clearance. I simply observed, prepared the override, and waited.” Bukk’s antennae bounced in amusement. “I’m also good with computers.”
Vannix glanced at the deactivated pylons and stood. “Let’s get moving.”
“Wait,” Rains said. “Bukk? Can we follow his progress on video? Make sure he’s not in the corridor waiting to ambush us? And that there’s no more pylons?”
Bukk leaned over his console. “Anti-boarding cannons are deployed on lower decks. I am disabling them now. Commander DuPont is moving toward the airlock. All pylons are now disabled, and DuPont is locked out. It’s safe to move.”
Vannix was up and out of her chair much faster than Rains or Bukk despite her injury. But her adrenaline, or whatever the Veetanho equivalent was, wore off. Vannix slowed, stopped, and crumpled against a bulkhead.
“Go!” Bukk pushed a laser pistol at him with one hand. “I’ll take care of Vannix. Stop DuPont!”
In a flash, Rains’ mind cleared. Gone were the thoughts of anything more than getting to the airlock to stop DuPont and whoever was waiting for him. Pistol in his right hand, Rains ran. As he moved effortlessly through the passageways in the minimal gravity, gaining speed with careful pushes from the walls when he could, Rains reached into his back pocket and removed the thin, black wallet containing his Peacemaker shield. The familiar weight of it in his hand further calmed his mind and allowed him to focus clearly on the task at hand. He’d be outnumbered, but he had the advantage of surprise, and with the right amount of speed and luck, he could take whatever threat waited for him.
Thirty seconds later, Rains peered around an open hatch toward the external docking collars. Bravo sat to the left, just out of view of the hatch. Rains looked down at his pistol, ensured it was loaded and ready to fire, and took a deep breath before pushing off the bulkhead, toward the curving wall. A rush of fresh air filled the passageway as DuPont opened the collar’s hatch. Using the rushing air as a noise buffer, Rains took four quick steps forward and pressed his back against the wall. Craning his neck, he could see DuPont’s back and the open bay of the gate docking area. Outside the ship, a Mk 8 CASPer hung in a maintenance rack not ten meters away, but there was no squad of MinSha or Veetanho, or any other being. The lone figure of the Sumatazou gate master stood silhouetted by the lights in the bay.
“Where’s my security force?” Rains heard DuPont ask.
The gate master’s response was too soft to hear, but the Sumatazou gestured slowly and methodically, as it expressed sorrow and failure. Rains inched forward and raised his pistol. This was his chance.
DuPont pointed his rifle at the gate master. “We had a deal! Your security force was supposed to meet us! I have prisoners, and you have information. Get them here now! I have hostile prisoners aboard.”
Rains moved forward with his pistol clasped between his hands, and his arms outstretched in a firing position. He took a breath and yelled, “Pierre DuPont, by order of the Peacemaker Guild, you are under arrest. Drop your weapon and—”
DuPont spun and fired the rifle. Both bolts dug into the bulkhead near Rains’ shoulder. Reflexively, Rains moved right, away from the fire. He squeezed off a round, missed, and re-centered on the target when he realized the CASPer in the external bay was moving and held a cannon in its hand. DuPont centered the rifle on Rains.
Shit!
Rains squeezed the trigger again, and his laser bolt ripped through the flesh of DuPont’s left shoulder. The impact ripped the rifle’s barrel away from Rains as it fired. The blast harmlessly impacted the passageway’s ceiling, showering sparks on DuPont’s shocked face.
BRRRRRRTTT!
A wide hole appeared in DuPont’s chest surrounded by a crimson mist that sprayed the surrounding deck. DuPont’s eyes widened, and his mouth opened. No sound came out. The former executive officer of Intergalactic Haulers fell to his knees, then awkwardly to his back in the hatch. A pool of bright red blood gathered under his chest.
Rains stepped forward, his pistol now centered on the CASPer, although he knew it likely couldn’t defeat the armor. “This is Peacemaker Jackson Rains. You are ordered to stand down!”
The CASPers’ arms went limp at its side. After a moment, the forward cockpit section opened. A blonde woman, her hair in a ponytail hanging over one shoulder, crossed her arms and smiled at him. “Well, Peacemaker Jackson Rains. It’s about time.”
Rains locked his jaw to keep it from dropping. “Tara Mason?”
“In the flesh.”
“What in the fuck are you doing here? The Victory Twelve left!”
Mason laughed. “I have a very capable friend flying her to Araf. We’ll be joining her very shortly.”
“We?” Rains squinted at her and slowly lowered the pistol. “Who’s we?”
“You, Peacemaker Vannix, and Bukk,” Mason replied. “Now that we’ve tied up this loose end, we can actually get to work.”
Suddenly, Rains felt his mental tumblers click into place. “The guild sent us to find you. You went off the reservation trying to find Snowman. We were supposed to find out what you know, then find him ourselves.”
Mason nodded and worked her arms out of the safety harness holding her in the CASPer’s cockpit. “But?”
Rains blinked. “But, you weren’t off the reservation, were you? The Guild knew where you were.”
“No, I didn’t.” Tara used the exterior footholds and handholds to exit the mecha. “I was trying to find Snowman or any of the remaining Haulers. They knew I would likely be unsuccessful in finding Snowman. As for the others, though, it didn’t take long for hardship to bring out their true character.”
“You’ve been onto DuPont for a while, then.”
“You could say that,” Mason said as she approached. She was almost as tall as he was, and her eyes were bright and blue. She looked at him critically. “Just like your guild has been onto you.”
“How would you know any of th—”
“They deputized me, Rains. And because I needed to know what I was getting into, they told me the plan. They needed you off Earth and away from the war. Jessica Francis and Nikki Sinc
lair are running missions out here in the void, and you needed to get off your sorry ass into the fight where someone could use you.”
“And that’s you?”
“Maybe. Eventually. I have my orders, and they come first.” Mason stuck out a hand. “Nice to meet you, Peacemaker.”
“You, too.” Rains said. He cocked his head to one side. “Does the guild know where Snowman is?”
“No,” Mason replied. “Nobody knows where he is, and that’s one part of the problem. He’s been preparing for this situation for a very long time, and while the Mercenary Guild suspected it, they knew nothing of his intentions. The Peacemaker Guild also believed he was up to something. They found he’d bankrolled a private fund of more than four hundred million credits over the last ten years, but it was legitimate and protected by the Haulers’ Articles of Incorporation.”
“DuPont said something about the money.”
Mason lowered her chin. “Did he mention anything about Resurgens?
“Resurgence?”
“No, the Latin pronunciation. Resurgens.” Mason frowned. “From what we can tell, it’s the name of whatever plan or campaign he was preparing for. We don’t know what it means.”
A flash of memory nearly took his breath away. In high school, he’d represented one of his schools in something called the Scholar’s Bowl, which was like a trivia game. Most of it had been easy random shit or questions about ionic bonds and shit no one could answer in ten seconds. But, there’d been a question no one knew the answer to, and it had intrigued him enough to research it.
“Resurgens. It’s the motto of the City of Atlanta, Georgia. I had to look it up in school.” Rains laughed and shook his head, continuing, “It’s meant to represent their rising like a Phoenix from the ashes of General William Tecumseh Sherman’s march to the sea when he tried to burn the city to the ground. The Civil War, you know? Snowman’s from Georgia. It’s logical to assume his plan is something similar, given what happened to them at Shaw Outpost. Exact details aside, I’d imagine that’s what his plan is—rising from the ashes.”
Mason shook her head. “That’s the problem. We don’t know the details. Rising for good? Rising for bad? We don’t know.”
“Are we going to go find him?”
“There’s not much choice. If your guild enters this war on the side of the Four Horsemen, which I think they will, we’ll have to ensure Snowman has the right revenge on his mind.”
Rains nodded. “Peepo, right?”
“Yeah,” Mason said. “She’s is finally going to get what’s coming to her. All I want is a ringside seat. I think there’s a way we can do that. You in?”
Rains smiled. Peacemaker or not, the guild sent them to find Snowman without coordinated support. Being on their own wasn’t a problem, and the idea of being on the handle of the hammer instead of under the weighted face was too good to pass up. “You’re damn right we are.”
“Let’s get the others and get the fuck out of here. We’ve got a long way to go, so to speak.”
* * * * *
Chapter Twenty-Three
Aboard the Shendil-Ya
Victoria Emergence Point
“All vessels have emerged, General,” Nyalla reported. Drehnayl nodded and turned her attention to the information scans on her Tri-V display. Three of the five MinSha vessels reported full battle stations. The other two, the missile cruisers, took longer as their extensive weapons and guidance systems took time to engage. Drehnayl stared at the display and the lone Flatar ship, the Alkormus, which carried the Tortantula and Flatar infantry forces. The little bastards had been virtually radio silent since joining her fleet, but they’d done everything Drehnayl had ordered without delay. On cue, their ship’s data feed reported full combat-ready status.
“As soon as the cruisers are online, get them in front of us. Clear a path to orbit.” Drehnayl rubbed her foreclaws together in thought. The mostly-darkened sphere of Victoria Bravo hung below the ship. On the far right, the daylight terminator line slowly crept across a wide, blue-green ocean toward the main continent of the northern hemisphere. She could see the tiny lights of Lovell City through the darkness on the planet’s surface. On her Tri-V, sensors indicated three vessels in orbit and a few geostationary satellites over the continent. The Humans had concentrated their cities in the central highlands, but no city had a population greater than a few hundred except for Lovell City. The Humans would defend from there, Drehnayl was certain of it.
Peacemaker Francis is down there waiting to stop us. When she fails, all of humanity will know the last vestiges of hope they cling to are worthless.
We will prevail.
“General, there appears to be minimal activity in the electromagnetic spectrum. There are satellite signals feeding what appears to be positioning data, but the frequencies usually used for Human communications are quiet.” Chee reported. “Even the orbitals in view have diminished power and communications readings. I suspect a trap.”
Drehnayl nodded. A trap was certainly one of the Humans’ possible courses of action. “The local time in Lovell City is what?”
“0217 hours, General,” Nyalla said. “This pattern of frequency use concurs with data records pulled from the stargate.”
Drehnayl swiped her claw across the Tri-V and centered the gate’s information on her screen. “Power levels are low and charging. Do their records show how many jumps the Human ships have made recently?”
“Negative, General. The gate’s communications servers are offline until 0600 Universal.”
Drehnayl fought back laughter. She’d expected the Humans to be resting and incapable of adequate self-defense at such an hour, but the gate master’s adoption of the Human circadian rhythm struck her as ludicrous. By the time the gate master woke or assumed its official duties, the sterilization of the planet would likely be over. “It doesn’t matter. Our plan is sound, and the Human need for sleep will be their undoing. Move us to orbit as quickly as possible. Surprise is still our ally.”
“Yes, General,” Nyalla replied. “Navigation has set the course and will engage in twenty seconds. All troop units are preparing for drop operations.”
“Good. We will deploy them soon. Have the cruisers take their positions.”
“Cruisers moving forward now, reporting combat-ready status.” Nyalla replied. “Helm, prepare to move the fleet.”
“Helm complies.”
Drehnayl settled back against her chair for a moment and watched the careful dance of the massive ships. Her weapons cruisers assumed a point position and advanced ahead of the main fleet. Lined up abreast of each other, the cruisers separated a distance of thirty kilometers from each other. Their sensors rigged to scan for orbital vessels, the two communicated a steady stream of data back to the Shendil-Ya for analysis. The two remaining frigates formed a wedge twenty kilometers off the command ship’s beam. Everything was as it should be, with the Flatar one hundred and thirty kilometers directly astern of the Shendil-Ya. On closer inspection, the Flatar were lower in relative altitude to the others, but their position and disposition were as Drehnayl had ordered.
Almost an hour passed as they pushed from the emergence point into the Victoria system. Navigation constantly refined their position and approach to center the fleet over Lovell City. A few orbital vessels drifted across and around their approach, but they were dormant. They detected no sensor sweeps or signatures. If the Humans were monitoring optically, they would know the fleet had arrived. Yet, if that were the case, they would have broken radio silence. Drehnayl expected them to take to the airwaves and beg for their lives long before orbital insertion, but the entire system was quiet.
“General, there is another vehicle in transit below us. This one is broadcasting at low power.” Chee interrupted her thoughts. “The frequency appears to match the navigation platforms up higher, which makes no sense.”
“Distance to the Tral-Ya and the Kaal-naya?” Her missile cruisers constituted the first line of defense.
“One hundred and seventy-two kilometers. It will pass within eight kilometers of them in two minutes and three seconds.”
“Full sensor sweep. Identify lifeforms on board, designate the incoming vessel a target, and destroy it.”
“All ships report compliance,” Nyalla said. “One minute and fifty seconds to intercept.”
Drehnayl leaned forward. “Ready our weapons. Prepare for drop operations.”
“General, at this altitude, our forces will be exposed for an—”
“Do it,” Drehnayl said. “I want to exploit every last second of surprise.”
“All weapons report ready. Dropships report sixty-seven percent go status. One minute until they reach full readiness.” Chee replied.
Drehnayl’s compound eyes studied the Tri-V panel to her left. The electromagnetic spectrum analyzer was quiet on everything but the navigation frequency. The low-power transmissions from the orbiting ship didn’t appear to have the power to reach a Human receiver on the surface. Antennae waggling in frustration, Drehnayl realized she was trying to do the impossible. Humans never followed a single combat doctrine. They never used a predictable course of action. They couldn’t be trusted in any situation.
“Ready orbital bombardments,” Drehnayl ordered. “As soon as there is a drop computation, I want a salvo on Lovell City.”
“The Tral-ya complies. They are in the best position. Kaal-naya reports they can reposition at your command.” Chee said.
Drehnayl shook her head. “Tell them to hold their course for now.”
“Orbital intercept in forty seconds,” Nyalla reported. “Still nothing on sensors, General.”
Drehnayl looked across the bridge at Colonel Chee and found the younger officer’s eyes watching hers. “What is it, Chee?”
“Your orders, General? Do we fire or let it pass?”
“Twenty-five seconds to intercept. Distance is 25 kilometers,” Nyalla said. She, too, looked up at Drehnayl’s command chair. Unlike Chee, she didn’t speak, but her expectation of a termination order was clear.
Stand or Fall (The Omega War Book 4) Page 25
