>
She laughed again, her stomach unclenching slightly, and the stress of the coming engagement ebbing for a moment. “Lucille? First rule of combat like this—they know we’re coming, and we know we’re attacking. Everything comes down to two things. One is our plan and the other is chance. Even with a good plan, chance is everything on the battlefield. Our job is to be there, arms open wide, when chance comes calling.”
<
“You’re getting it, Lucille. We do whatever it takes to protect ourselves and our comrades under fire. It doesn’t hurt that the Cochkala are typically terrified of the MinSha.”
Lucille was quiet for a few seconds. <
The radio snapped on. “All stations, this is Thunder Six. Hold. I say again hold. Prepare for intel update. Multiple ships inbound from the gate. Standby. Thunder Six, out.”
“Now what?” Tara sighed.
Lucille responded. <
“Connect me, Lucille.” Tara frowned. “Stop asking me for permission. Permission is granted for all notifications, understood?”
<
Tara changed frequencies and pressed the transmit button with her left thumb. “Vannix? What’s going on?”
The response was barely a whisper, but it was clear and urgent. “The Cochkala didn’t make it to orbit. They’re infiltrating downtown. I’m going to need assistance—fast.”
* * *
Downtown Lovell City
Victoria Bravo
Vannix peered over the plasticrete edge of a consolidated apartment building. Six stories below, what looked like a company of sixty Cochkala infantry scampered down the avenue. From her position, she couldn’t see where they were descending the escarpment to the east of the city. Crossing the relatively shallow Swigert River would have been easy. With their ship unable to reach orbit, they’d decided to come back and do what they’d been unable to do from the ship. Two blocks from Vannix, to the northwest, a handful of fires burned. The fleeing Cochkala ship had targeted something, and the only location that made sense was the Cartography Guild’s forward relations office.
“Vannix?”
The Veentaho ground her teeth together. “What is it?”
She heard Maarg take a breath. “I’m monitoring a lot of Cochkala traffic. They’re back porcine on a local network.”
Vannix grinned. “It’s called piggy-backing. Can you break it?”
“Give me a couple of minutes,” Maarg replied. “My father warned me about Human expressions. He said they were seldom what he thought they would be.”
Vannix raised her head. The Cochkala were moving in a steady stream toward the burning buildings. “What are they after?”
“A Cartography Guild forward relations office doesn’t seem like a viable target. I’m scanning addresses and known residents. There has to be something else. That kind of office only serves as a place for the guild to conduct negotiations. According to Governor Watson’s files, a delegation is scheduled to arrive anytime in the next few days.”
Vannix blinked. “You got into the governor’s files?”
“About thirty seconds after we landed, yeah.”
Impressed, Vannix watched the Cochkala for another twenty seconds, then lowered herself back to the roof’s surface. “I’m going after them.”
“You can’t, Vannix.”
“Don’t tell me what I can and cannot do, Little One.”
“Don’t call me little one,” Maarg said. “I’m about three times older than you, I just don’t show it.”
“You haven’t been off your planet since your birth. That means you are an innocent. In my vernacular, you are a little one.”
“I am larger than you, too.” Maarg snickered. Vannix clenched her jaw and hated herself for thinking that if all TriRusk were as annoying as Maarg, her ancestors’ war against them might have been justified.
“You stay on the ship.” Vannix drew her pistol from her chest holster and ensured the magazine was loaded and a round was chambered. Hanging out with Jackson had some advantages. She had learned that laser pistols could be clumsy and often failed to work as advertised in combat. The Human penchant for gunpowder, while primitive, proved to be a good thing, but that wasn’t enough for her. An XT-12 magnetic accelerator pistol was small enough for her to hold easily and still provided enough power to put down most species. Against an Oogar or an armored MinSha, it was little more than a nuisance, but for what she intended, it would work just fine.
“You need backup, Vannix.”
“Tara will send reinforcements. I have to figure out what they’re up to.”
“Let me move the shuttle closer.”
“No.” Vannix shook her head. “We’re in a good position here. Keep tapping the networks. Relay any recon information you find to me.”
She heard the TriRusk take a breath as if to respond, then pause. Vannix knew the young female was determining her best argument. She also knew the best course of action was what Vannix proposed. Finally, Maarg replied, “Roger, Vannix. I’m cueing sensors to you and will try to give you eyes along the way.”
“Right.” Vannix looked over the edge again. The Cochkala were nowhere to be seen. “Here goes nothing.”
As she readied to leap down three stories to an exposed balcony, Maarg cut into her ears. “There is a recessed fire ladder fifteen meters from your position, on the north side of the building. According to the security cameras in the area, there are no Cochkala visible.”
Not bad.
“Moving now,” Vannix replied. Sure enough, she found the control panel for a recessed fire escape ladder exactly where Maarg said. She worked the controls and the sturdy, flexible ladder descended from the corner of the building all the way to street level. Without looking, she re-holstered her pistol and scampered quickly down the ladder. At the street, she drew her weapon and recessed the ladder, noting where the controls were in case of emergency.
Always know how to get the hell out of Dodge.
She wondered if Maarg had heard that Human saying. The first time she’d heard it was at Peacemaker U, and it made little sense without historical context. Seeing Dodge City, or whatever was left of it, was something she still wanted to do if for no other reason than to tell other Peacemakers she really had gotten out of Dodge. Suppressing a smile, she darted across the empty street to a neighboring building. The front doors were secured.
“Are all the buildings locked down?”
Maarg replied a second later. “Affirmative. Appears to be SOP. I can open one if you need. I have the security grid wide open and am locking down every door I can.”
Vannix looked around. She didn’t see any threats. “I’m okay for now. Check the street to my northeast.”
“Nothing. Smoke is obscuring the end of the street four hundred meters from you. I’m working on a thermal sensor set nearby. It appears to have been partially damaged. If I can get connectivity, I can give you eyes through the smoke.”
“Moving,” Vannix replied. She knew her white fur stood out against the dark gray edge of the building, but it couldn’t be helped. Ahead of her, the dark smoke hovered a few meters above the street. Vannix crossed to the opposite side and continued forward. She noticed that the sounds of battle from the spaceport to the west had decreased to almost nothing. The urge to touch her slate and ask Tara for an update nearly overwhelmed her.
Focus!
She paused at the corner of the building, across from the first of the fires, and closed her eyes for five seconds, taking a calming breath. It worked, somewhat, and as she opened her eyes, Vannix realized she could hear loud, muted voices inside the building next to her. There was an argument taking place, and while it wasn’t very clear, one of the voices sounded distinctly Zuparti. She touched the
edge of her slate, and a small, detachable microphone came free. She reached up to the bottom sill of a window protected by steel blast vanes, slipped her paw under them, and placed the microphone against the glass. The microphone picked up the conversation, and she passed it through to Maarg.
“—I do not care! We do not have the time to secure the entire vault.” The voice was Cochkala, the high-pitched squealing a dead giveaway, even without the benefit of the translator. “Our orders are clear.”
“Your orders were not to fire upon the city!”
“A distraction. Do you really think we could not hit our real targets if we wanted? Human domiciles are acceptable targets in war, Ch’tek. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“My grievance is not with non-combatants,” the Zuparti replied. “Get your target and get off this planet before you alert the entire Union to our plans. My trust in your Guild is very low, Canool. Very low indeed.”
“Says the Zuparti who tried to send a welcome present to Earth.” The Cochkala laughed. “Hardly a good move, Ch’tek.”
“Yet they held me less than three months. In the aftermath of Peepo’s little war, my sins were forgiven. Yet they don’t realize our first moves were already well in play.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Canool asked.
“You don’t have the need to know. Now, get off this planet before you call attention to us.”
Vannix retrieved the microphone and crept up to the corner of the building. She saw several Cochkala scampering toward the Cartography Guild’s office. She touched her earpiece.
“Tell me you heard all of that, Maarg.”
“Affirmative. Even recorded it. I’m working on deciphering it now.”
Vannix watched the retreating Cochkala a moment longer. “What is this building?”
“Commercial office space. The windows nearest to you are registered to...” Maarg paused. “What is the Dream World Consortium?”
Vannix lowered her chin to her chest for a moment but did not reply. Her mind raced through the possibilities. Again, she took a deep breath, and her mind cleared enough to focus on the immediate goal. “Maarg? We’ll get the rest of it later. Right now, try to find out why the Cartography Guild maintains a secure vault at a forward relations office. That should tell us who is interested in it. And, if you can, figure out what’s inside the vault before it’s too late.”
* * * * *
Chapter Eighteen
Aboard Victory Twelve
Approaching Lovell City
Altitude 228 Kilometers
“Holy shit,” Bukk blurted. “There’s been an attack on Lovell City.”
Xander sat forward in his seat and studied the Tri-V images. Fires burned in dozens of locations. From the distance, it was unclear what was burning, but Bukk’s assessment looked to be correct. “Lucille? Get on local comms and verify.”
<
“Son of a bitch,” Xander said softly. “Can we get Tara on the horn?”
“Horn?” Bukk glanced at him, his antennae fluttering in confusion.
“Expression,” Xander shrugged. “I meant comms.”
<
Xander cocked his head slightly. “Autonomously?”
<
“Fine by me,” Xander replied. He didn’t feel that way. The whole situation on Victoria Bravo had gone south in an instant.
“Lucille?” Bukk asked. “Forward sensors.”
“You see something?” Xander asked. Bukk sat to his right in the copilot’s seat.
“I have a negative premonition,” the Altar replied. “Something isn’t right. I feel like we’ve walked into a trap.”
Xander nodded and leaned forward to reach the control panel. “Master arm is hot. Weapons systems to standby.”
<
Xander adjusted the Tri-V feed. There were two emergence signatures, but the distance was far too great for the onboard sensors to positively identify them. “Activate laser comms to the gate.”
<
“Victoria Gate control, this is Victory Twelve. Confirm emergence signatures and intent.”
“Victory Twelve, Victoria Gate. Three ships at emergence point. Unknown intentions,” the gate control officer replied. “Will relay once determination is made. This is Victoria—”
<
“The other two?” Bukk asked.
<
“Get me Tara as fast as you can, Lucille.”
<
Xander looked at Bukk. “We can’t fight off those ships or their landers.”
“No, we cannot. What are your intentions?”
Xander grinned. “Tara would want us to run.”
“Yes, she would. But that isn’t your intention, is it?” Bukk replied. “We can be at the gate before that frigate arrives.”
“You read my mind, Bukk.” Xander laughed. “Lucille, lay in the fastest possible course to the gate. Modify our squawk.”
“I believe a Buma code would work best. They would certainly run from a conflict like this,” Bukk replied. His antennae bounced in amusement. “We can arrange diplomatic protection, too. Complete the deception and potentially protect the gate itself.”
“Do it,” Xander replied as Victory Twelve’s engines came online. The acceleration was enough to press him against the commander’s seat.
<
“Thunder Six?” Xander asked.
<
Xander nodded. “Bukk?”
“Fifteen seconds.” The Altar pushed a series of buttons and brought up the ship’s identification beacon. “We are now squawking a Buma diplomatic emergency code. That should give our enemies a little pause.”
“A little is all we need. If we can slow them down from up here, we might buy enough time for the cavalry to arrive,” Xander replied. “Boost for the gate, Lucille. Best course and speed.”
Let’s hope it’s not too late.
* * *
Emergence Point
Victoria Bravo
Regaa instinctively released her clenched foreclaws and let her vision return to normal as the Dauntless Cloud emerged from hyperspace. With a glance at the command station’s Tri-V displays, the MinSha commander confirmed the weather on the dayside of Victoria Bravo was exactly as she’d hoped—a bright, clear day for her landers to drop out of the sky. Long range sensors could not determine damage, but the signals they received confirmed that the Cochkala had done exactly as ordered. Regaa watched her gunnery frigate, Strong Arm, turn toward the distant gate and apply full thrust. It would be more than an hour before Strong Arm could get there, but a precise firing solution was only a few minutes away. With their facility targeted, the gate master would do as they always did and capitulate.
Nothing would leave the system without Regaa’s approval. Everything in the system was hers. The near silence on her bridge alarmed her. She leaned forward and stabbed the master alarm button—what Humans called general quarters. Before her officers could react, she growled, “Status report.”
Having only dealt with all-MinSha crews for the bulk of her career, Regaa could not get over the presence of so many species on a MinSha vessel. Her executive officer, at least by duty position if not authority, was a Jivool with an unpronounceable name. She’d taken to calling the large, brown male Vaahn which, loosely translated, meant ‘large furry thing’ in MinSha. If he’d known or suspected what it meant, Vaahn had never said. He was a professional mercenary and knew when to follow orders.
“Three ships emerged on schedule. Strong Arm has initiated movement to secure the gate. Noble Spear remains on our left flank.” The Jivool’s voice was deep and oozed calm. “Initiating pre-landing operations. All crews standing by at their positions. Landing forces are fifteen percent prepared for launch.”
Regaa nodded. “Launch the CI satellites.”
“Thirty seconds to launch. Orbital coordinates set,” Vaahn replied. CI satellites were nothing more than communications and imagery nodes that could be fired directly at the planet. As they raced toward the surface at set intervals, the first satellite would capture imagery and return it via the trailing satellites, and it would process and relay communications frequencies in most of the known, usable bands. Within a few minutes, she would have decent imagery of the objective, and she would be in communication with her ground forces well in advance of her landing forces’ arrival.
“Launch when ready. I want the earliest possible communications window,” Regaa said. Raising her voice, the commander barked, “The rest of you get your units prepared. Any delay in the attack will be reported to Kr’et’Socae.”
The crew gained energy performing their tasks, and while they did not act like MinSha warriors, the surge of emotion in their actions and the purpose in their step satisfied Regaa. They were mercenaries, after all, and the only thing that motivated them better than credits was fear of their immediate commander and General Peepo. Regaa looked at her mission timer. Kr’et’Socae would be there soon. His presence was not, however, necessary to carry out her orders. As she watched the second phase of her forces prepare for invasion, a different plan formed in her mind. She knew it was risky, but there was nothing immediately stopping her and her loose collection of forces. They were the types of mercenaries who would fight hard for the opportunity to pillage a vibrant world.
Deathangel Page 20
