“Hammerhead Six, you are clear to coordinate with Avenger Six. You have three minutes to execute this attack before I need Avenger Six on this side of the field,” Mason called. “Deathangel Two Five, out.”
Three minutes.
Shit.
“Avenger Six, Hammerhead Six, over?”
“Hammerhead Six, be advised I’m moving two CASPers to your flank. Standby for direct fire,” Vuong called. “Do you read?”
MacFollett allowed himself a half smirk. “Roger, Avenger Six. Hammerhead Six copies, break.”
He changed to his platoon network and tied Avenger Six into the group for command and control purposes. Satisfied, he re-keyed the microphone. “Hammerheads, Avenger Six is on the line and providing fire support. Standby to move, gear three, bearing two seven zero with gun tubes high. Aerial targets descending. We’re not going to let them hit the ground. Avenger Six, engage at max distance and keep firing until lift and shift order.”
“Avenger Six, acknowledged. Good hunting, Hammerheads.”
MacFollett lowered himself into the turret and tapped his gunner on the helmet. “Index sabot.”
His gunner, Sergeant Crowe, gave a thumbs-up in response and said, “We have thirty-two rounds aboard, sir.”
“Target weapons pods and engines,” MacFollett said as he swung the hatch closed above his head. “Once I give the order, you are on your own—fire and adjust, Crowe.”
“Copy, sir.”
MacFollett tapped his C2 display and selected the four tanks in his platoon. “Hammerheads, pivot in place. Tubes up. Aerial targets inbound. Bravo section,” he indicated Hammerheads Three and Four, “take the southernmost lander. Two, you have the center vehicle. Six has the northern most. Concentrate on weapons pods and engines. They took out Thunder Six, so be ready to move if they start dropping ordnance. Weapons free. Knock them out of the sky.”
No sooner had he looked up than Crowe locked the gun tube onto the northernmost lander and fired. The tank lurched as the sabot round fired. The electromagnetic railgun was the grandfather of the CASPer’s MAC, and while the weapon wouldn’t cause the hundred-ton tank to lurch, the carefully prepared sabot rounds would.
MacFollett glanced at the targeting relay on his Tri-V. The targeting reticle locked onto one of two winglets on the squat, bullet shaped lander. He didn’t recognize the design, but the winglets descending from the top of the cylindrical hull reminded him of an old helicopter loaded with weapons almost to the point of collapse. The first sabot round penetrated the armor under the winglet. Exiting in a spray of molten metal just above the winglet’s root, the round flew into the Victoria sky, and the lander continued to descend.
The tank lurched again. And again. Crowe adjusted the aim of each round carefully, working them closer and closer to the wing-root as the lander’s weapons pylons came online, spewing fire at the ground near them. Dirt erupted around the Hammerhead elements.
MacFollett jabbed his transmit button. “Hammerheads, move out!”
The four tanks raced toward the landers, firing their guns. The southernmost lander, targeted by two of his tanks, shook from multiple explosions. A shattered winglet flew through the sky. No more than a second later, the lander exploded and careened toward the spaceport’s landing strips on the valley floor.
A cheer went up, but MacFollett cut it off. “Shift fire! Shift fire!”
The center lander squared its weapons pylons toward the Hammerheads to MacFollett’s left. He watched the lander, no more than three hundred meters off the surface, rake fire across the exposed CASPers. Avengers One and Three erupted in flames, staggered, and fell face first onto the tarmac.
“Hammerhead Four on the break!”
MacFollett whipped his head to the left and saw the tank on the extreme flank rush forward at full power, firing sabot rounds into the engine assembly on the center lander. Gleason what are you doing?
He fired six rounds in rapid succession, and the fifth and sixth hit their targets within milliseconds of each other. The landers were built according to an unwritten rule of spacecraft development—fuels must remain separate for as long as possible. Two propulsive chemicals mixed and detonated in the same heartbeat. The lander disintegrated in mid-flight, scattering rubble and wreckage across the tarmac.
“Shift fire!” MacFollett looked at the remaining lander, the one Crowe had been unable to bring down. Wounded and smoking, the one-winged lander squared on his tank. “Knock it down, Crowe!”
The lander’s remaining weapons pylon fired. A heavy laser tore into the front, left armor plating. Another ripped across the main gun tube and neatly severed it. He watched the red-hot metal fall away as the lander dropped to two hundred meters. Rounds pockmarked it, but it kept firing.
“Avenger Six moving in!”
MacFollett turned and saw Hammerhead Two detonate. Hammerhead Three, farther down the line, smoked from several impact points but kept firing. The tank’s hull and treads on one side were collapsed. It wouldn’t move again. Behind them, the two remaining CASPers from Avenger platoon raced forward. They were close enough for MacFollett to feel the thump-thump-thump of the MACs in his chest, despite the armor around him.
Warnings sounded. Crowe was already moving toward the hatch. The wounded tank sat motionless, its engine silent. Its driver, Specialist Garrison, was dead. There was nothing else they could do.
“Go!” MacFollett shoved Crowe toward the secondary hatch. He stood in his seat and swung open the commander’s hatch. As he looked up, the enemy lander centered its pylons on him. There was a flash, and he had time for a single thought.
Oh shit.
* * *
Aboard Victory Twelve
Victoria Gate
“The gunnery frigate continues it course and speed,” Bukk said quietly. “They are far inside a shooting solution, Xander.”
Xander glanced at the exterior camera view on his center screen. The frigate was little more than a speck of light in the distance, but from their angle, he could see a distant glow from their engines. “They’re maintaining a steady acceleration. They’ll have to re-orient to decelerate and dock, if that’s their intention.”
“Their present course and speed don’t suggest anything with a tactical advantage. They are not intending to ram the gate, nor do they appear ready to fire on it.”
It’s a scare tactic.
Xander frowned. “They want to keep us guessing, Bukk. They want the gate master panicking and ready to give them the keys to the galaxy.”
“Fear is quite the motivator for the Sumatozou,” Bukk replied with a clack of his mandibles. “The gate has been silent since the frigate and the two troop ships entered Victoria space.”
The two cruisers were in line abreast formation, in high orbit above Victoria. Xander did the math in his head and realized they were in a nearly geostationary orbit above Lovell City and holding their position with little use of fuel. From a command and control perspective, they had the clear advantage. Distance, however, was their enemy. Being some forty thousand kilometers above the planet’s surface, any reinforcements or weaponry they launched were subject to defeat.
“Has anything left those ships aside from the first wave?”
Bukk leaned over the console and studied a display. “Negative. I assumed they would have launched a second wave.”
“Unless they don’t have one,” Xander said. “Or they’re waiting for something to emerge from hyperspace.”
“That thought did cross my mind.” Bukk’s antennae sagged. “We have no way of knowing when a ship is about to emerge, do we?”
“Lucille?”
<
“The gate controls outbound traffic,” Xander mused. “They can do nothing about inbound traffic.”
“But once a spacecraft is in the system, it cannot leave without passing through a gate.”
Xander nodded. “Unless it has its own shunts.”
“Which means?”
<
Xander smiled. “But it tips their hand. We know they can’t leave the system.”
“And if the Cartography Guild knows that,” Bukk replied, his antenna bobbing in understanding, “and they are really coming here to establish Victoria Bravo as one of their forward offices, they can hold the adversary force here indefinitely.”
<
Xander laughed. “And that’s where we come in.”
Bukk pointed a foreclaw at the Tri-V. “We arrive at the gate first, discuss the situation with the gate master over short range direct laser, then play the waiting game.”
“With one exception.”
<
Xander looked at Bukk. “My dad always told us to have a way out of every situation, if possible.”
“That implies our forces on the ground will perish.”
Xander shook his head. “I’m not implying anything, Bukk. We have to be prepared for any eventuality. If we’re not thinking ahead, everything the Peacemaker Guild wanted us to do dies right here. Whatever they wanted Snowman for dies here, too. This is bigger than Tara and our friends on the surface.”
Bukk nodded thoughtfully, his head and upper abdomen moving rigidly together. “I understand. What do you plan to tell the gate master?”
“I’m not telling the gate master anything, my friend.” Xander smiled again. “You are.”
“And once I’ve told them whatever it is you think I should?”
Xander pointed at Victoria Bravo. “We help our friends as best we can. Lucille, do you have a situation report from the ground?”
<
“Tara is in command of the field?”
<
Bukk leaned forward. “The secondary engagement area appears to be a two-block radius in downtown Lovell City. Images from the surface cameras indicate the Cochkala targeted a Cartography Guild forward office. Think of it as a diplomatic office. They take their time creating new governments, but when they find a viable location, they go ahead and establish a forward base of operations. The Victoria system is somewhere they want to be. From here they can expand a few gates down the arm of the galaxy. It is a wise move. A profitable one for the government and the citizens.”
“Except when the citizens are at war.”
“Once a guild comes in, most everyone, including the mercenaries, back off. You would call it a...gentlemen’s club?”
Xander guffawed. “No, no, no. A gentlemen’s club is an upscale place where...”
“I meant an accord of some type,” Bukk replied. “Not a place of ill repute.”
“A gentlemen’s agreement.” Xander dabbed at his eyes.
“I do not understand Human sayings and colloquialisms,” Bukk replied. “Even translated into Altar, the things you say sometimes do not make sense. It is a good thing your actions are equally insane at times, lest one think you were simply daft.”
Xander grinned at the Altar, his friend. “You don’t really think we aren’t all daft, do you?”
Bukk’s mandibles parted and his antenna waggled with laughter. “Only the ones I seem to hang out with.”
“You have no idea, mate,” Xander said. He squinted at Bukk and exaggeratedly studied the Altar. “What would an Altar representative to the Cartography Guild wear for a diplomatic meeting?”
Bukk made a gurgling sound Xander realized was laughter. “You do recognize, my friend, I’ve never worn raiment of any form in my life?”
“That didn’t answer my question, Bukk.”
Bukk nodded. “I was afraid you were going to say that, Xander.”
* * * * *
Chapter Twenty-Three
Lovell City
Victoria
Vannix crept down the side street toward one of the main thoroughfares. Moving south, she couldn’t see the MinSha infantry completing their ambush setup a hundred meters or so to her west. Whirr’s hasty plan called for them to channel the Cochkala down the southernmost thoroughfare, a narrow corridor numbered 34. So far, under sporadic fire from a handful of snipers placed along the route, the Cochkala were scampering quickly down 34, into the heart of the kill zone.
As she moved to close off their escape route, Vannix tapped her headset and whispered, “Maarg? Are you still watching them?”
The TriRusk’s response came back immediately. “Yes. I can see you, too.”
Fear raced down her spine. “Can they see me?”
“Relax, Peacemaker. You’re out of their field of view and, honestly, small enough that they can’t see you with all the deserted skiffs and autocars laying around.” Maarg laughed softly. “You are clear to close off their exit. I recommend the commercial skiff to your ten o’clock at forty meters or so for your firing position.”
Vannix raised her head, sniffing the wind for threats, and saw the extra-long commercial skiff sitting in the street at a thirty-degree angle to the thoroughfare. Behind its massive wheels, she would be invisible until it was too late for the Cochkala. Impressed, she tapped her headset. “Nice call. Moving now.”
She took her time, not wanting to draw sensitive Cochkala eyes with her movement nor wanting to make any sound above the distant rumbling of battle. The airfield seemed re-engaged and, though she was curious, Vannix resisted the urge to radio Tara for information. She could see the battle in her mind. The dropships were key. The enemy expected the wave of landers to take the field. If the remaining Victoria Forces could defeat them quickly, the Cochkala position would collapse in on itself, and they would retreat. The landers were also critically important to the Cochkala infantry she was tailing. Without the landers, they had no way off the planet with their sensitive cargo. If they could be stopped here, it wouldn’t matter. But if she and Whirr’s infantry failed, the Cochkala might get away with the Cartography Guild’s server and the information it contained. The Mercenary Guild would have the upper hand in the search for Snowman.
A whisper from Whirr in her headset shook Vannix out of her thoughts. “Standby.”
The first Cochkala had entered the kill zone. Given their speed, it would be thirty seconds or so until their main complement reached the center. Once there, Whirr and her forces would cut loose. Provided there were less cover and concealment positions in the kill zone than at Vannix’s position, it would be fast work.
Vannix looked at her wrist slate and tried to estimate when she would hear weapons fire. The plan depended on precise timing. If it was too early, the Cochkala could escape to the south through a narrow barricade guarded by only one MinSha.
Twenty seconds, Vannix estimated. She could have received a video feed from Maarg using the local closed-circuit systems and traffic cameras, but she hadn’t thought about it seriously. Depending on the type of sensors the Cochkala had, too much bandwidth on one frequency would—
WHAMM!!
Vannix looked up. The sound of a missile detonation washed over her. Smoke and dust rose near the kill zone.
Whirr’s voice came over the headset. “Contact! Enemy element to the south!”
Vannix ran. She leapt over a stalled autocar and sprinted to the south, rounding the corner of the city block with her weapon trained on the street. The Cochkala behind her were firing. Down the vacant street, she saw a concentration of fire near the narrow barricade.
She wasn’t going to make it in time. The lone MinSha wasn’t going to hold against a battalion of Cochkala.
“Ergaa is down. Ergaa is down. Cochkala escaping to the south to join their friends,” Whirr yelled.
Vannix kept moving. “Maarg? What have you got?”
“I don’t see any more Cochkala to the south. I can’t make out anything specific in the feeds, but there is something in front of you.”
“Get Molly in the air. Keep your eyes on the Cochkala,” Vannix said.
“Copy that.”
She swept the street with her eyes. Cochkala poured down the alley and into the street about two hundred meters ahead. As they entered the street, seeking cover where available, a fusillade of weapons fire erupted from the south side.
What the—
A Human figure stood, behind cover, shouldering a rifle. After firing three rounds, the man ducked.
“Maarg, I have Humans on the south side of the street.”
“Working on it!”
Vannix ran across the street, found cover, and continued toward the Humans. The Cochkala filled the area and brought withering fire. As they did, they continued moving to the west toward the airfield. They were getting away.
Vannix tapped her headset twice. “Lucille? Lucille, do you read?”
<
“I have unknown Humans compromising our kill zone.”
<
Shit.
Vannix ground her lower jaw. “Moving to intercept. They’re fucking up this entire operation.”
<
Deathangel Page 25
