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“Whirr? Hit the Cochkala with everything you have. Try to get in front of them and stop them from getting to the airfield,” Vannix yelled and sprinted toward the Humans. She watched two of them stand and get cut down quickly by coordinated fire from the Cochkala.
“I see two Humans in a covered position on the far side of the next street,” Maarg said. “There’s one near you, but I cannot discern what it is doing.”
Vannix stopped behind a skiff and watched for a few seconds. The two Humans on the far side of the street continued to fire. Bursts from the Cochkala guns caused clouds of dust and debris from the building behind the Human position. Vannix couldn’t see anything except the muzzle flashes from the Humans’ weapons between exchanges.
“Cease fire!” she yelled, but the Humans couldn’t hear her. They were fifty meters away and decisively engaged, and even if they heard her, they would ignore her.
I have to do this myself.
With a deep breath, she rose to a crouch and ran toward the Human position. The Cochkala continued to fire, but their move to the west had almost taken them out of range. The Humans were not challenging them or attempting to move. To her left, she could see Whirr’s infantry pursuing the Cochkala down the barricade. Inexplicably, the Humans targeted the MinSha.
Vannix darted forward waving her left arm. “Stop! Cease fire! Cease—”
A flash of heat caught her in the upper right chest. Vannix spun and slammed to the pavement. Through the sudden shock and disorientation, pain blossomed. She rolled onto her side, staring at the Humans who stared back in horror.
At least they stopped firing.
She saw boots approaching. A Human in dark coveralls knelt next to her.
“Oh, shit,” she heard the Human male say. Hands appeared, and she was carefully rolled onto her back. She stared up into the ashen face of Governor Watson. He’d been the one under cover. Behind his boots, she saw a missile launcher. In a heartbeat, she knew his team had assumed that Ergaa was an enemy, and they’d tried to close off the barricade with a missile attack. Instead of stopping the Cochkala, the stupid bastard and his team had let them escape.
“Vannix?” Maarg screamed in her ear. “Vannix?”
She tried to answer, but her mouth and tongue wouldn’t respond. In a detached way, she felt Watson trying to treat her wound. His hands were frantic.
“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” he muttered. “I didn’t see you. I didn’t...Hang on, Peacemaker. Hang on.”
She nodded but felt her limbs growing cold.
“Medic!” Watson screamed. “Get me a medic now!”
She heard more voices. Faces appeared above her—human and MinSha. Vannix couldn’t make them out, so she looked past them. She heard Maarg in her ear, then it sounded like Jackson and Tara, but it didn’t matter anymore. Nothing mattered except what she could see. What she could make out in the blurry haze.
The hazy, azure sky of Victoria was visible between the low buildings and the planted trees marking the sides of the streets. The sky was a color she’d only seen on Human-centric planets, and while it wasn’t Home, it was comforting nonetheless. Sunlight caught the high, wispy clouds, and she saw a minuscule prism in the sky. The rainbow made her smile.
Watson continued to work. His words were lost to her as her hearing faltered, and she heard the frantic beating of her heart. Maarg screamed in her ear. Something about hanging on. Vannix tried. She tried to stay. To stay in her life, but the blue called to her. Sunlight came through the shadows of the branches overhead and warmed her face.
Vannix smiled into the sun and closed her eyes. Warmth surrounded her, and it was good.
So good.
* * *
Main Spaceport
Victoria Bravo
Tara froze in her CASPer. “Say again, Maarg?”
“Vannix is down. I’m moving there, but I can’t find a spot to land the shuttle,” Maarg replied. “Whirr reports she’s critically injured and in need of medical treatment immediately. But I can’t get the shuttle close enough.”
Tara glanced at Rains who rested his back against the shipping container they’d used for cover and holstered his left-hand cannon. “I’m going after her,” he said.
“No, you’re not.”
“She’s hurt, Tara. We’ve got to get her off the field!” Rains moved in the direction of the city.
Tara stepped forward, grabbed his left shoulder and pinned him against the container. “We hold the line, Rains.”
“She’s a Peacemaker! We have to get her to safety,” Rains said. “She’s a part of this team. Or doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
A fresh wave of rage coursed through her veins, but she bit it back. She clenched the fingers of her right hand, her free hand, and forced herself to let them go. With a deep sigh, she replied, “More than you know.”
She saw Rains stiffen, then relax inside his suit as realization dawned. They were out of position. Too far away. If anything was to be done for Peacemaker Vannix, his partner and Tara’s friend, the two of them would not be the ones to do it. “She’d want us here, taking the field,” he said and sagged slightly forward.
“She would,” Tara replied as she glanced at her command and control display. There had to be a way to keep the fight going, clear the landers from the field, and get Vannix to safety.
“We can’t get there,” Rains said. He drew the left-hand cannon and leaned out from behind the container. He fired his MAC twice, then returned to cover unscathed. “Can we pull anyone off?”
“We’re decisively engaged,” Tara said. The unspoken part of her thought that it might be too late for Vannix. She knew Rains could hear it in her voice. “Maybe the MinSha can get her out of there in time.”
As if on cue, she heard Whirr’s voice on the command channel. “Deathangel 25, this is Mantis Six. SITREP follows, over.”
Tara suddenly smiled. The MinSha lieutenant had only been embedded with the Human forces for a month, but she had the protocols and procedures down. “Mantis Six, send it.”
“Peacemaker Vannix is down. Without medevac, she won’t make it. I have two killed and two minor injuries. Break.” Tara waited for Whirr to continue. “Be advised the ambush failed. I repeat, the Cochkala infantry have escaped to the west. Over.”
Gods!
“Mantis Six, I copy the ambush failed. Where are the Cochkala now? Over.”
“Unknown. They appear to have entered a conduit system. We are downloading a map now. Break.” Whirr stopped. “Deathangel 25, be advised. Peacemaker Vannix is down because of friendly fire. Over.”
“What?” Tara yelped. “Who is responsible?”
“Deathangel 25, Mantis Six. Governor Watson and his security force hit my security personnel. When Vannix tried to intervene and salvage the operation, she was shot at point blank range by the governor.”
Rains came through on a private channel. “I’m going to kill that motherfucker.”
My sentiments exactly. Tara shook her head.
“Understand, Mantis Six. Can you evacuate your casualties? Over.”
“My soldiers, yes. Their wounds are not critical. Without immediate medical attention, Peacemaker Vannix will not survive,” Whirr replied. “Your shuttle cannot land. The city is too tight for extraction via air.”
Tara zoomed in on her command display. There was a park some eight hundred meters to the southwest of Whirr. As far as potential landing zones, it was the best available. She was about to ask how fast the MinSha could cover that distance when she noticed a single CASPer icon moving toward the city from a position near the Victoria Forces main hangar.
Hogshead. I can’t get a ship to Vannix, but I can get her to a ship!
“Lucille, get me Hawg Six.”
<
“Hawg Six, Deathangel Two Five, what are you doing, over?”
The gruff drawl came back with a chuckle. “I
thought that was pretty obvious, Two Five.”
Tara snorted. Hogshead had already pulled Liberty Three and Mako One Three off the field. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re shirking. You’re not half the asshole Ibson said you were.”
“Good thing, Two Five,” Hogshead replied. “Have Mantis Six move to the intersection fifty meters to her west. I’ll meet them there in eighty seconds.”
<
“Lucille, are there still dropships capable of making the run?”
<
“Get them online. Whatever it takes,” Tara replied and switched back to the command frequency. “Hawg Six, I’m sending medevac behind you. Get the Peacemaker to the park eight hundred meters from Whirr’s position, azimuth is two three zero. You copy?”
“Loud and clear, Deathangel Two Five,” Hogshead replied. “I’ll have the Peacemaker there directly.”
Frustration collected in her limbs. Tara stepped around Rains, leveled her hand cannons at the Cochkala and squeezed off a three-second burst. As good as it felt to fire at the enemy instead of wrangling her forces, Tara pulled back quickly. They still had a chance to stop the Cochkala, but they had to move now.
Like right fucking now.
Tara looked at the command display and selected the new icon, Lightning Six.
What in the hell am I going to do with you?
She pressed the transmit button. “Lightning Six, this is Deathangel Two Five. What’s your status, and who do you have with you?”
The young man’s voice came back quickly. “Deathangel Two Five, Lightning Six, say again?”
“I want to know who you are, who you have with you, and whether you’re ready to end this fight, kid,” Tara growled. “Are you with me or not?”
* * * * *
Chapter Twenty-Four
Victoria Forces Hangar Complex
Victoria Bravo
Drew Morris looked at the empty space inside the Titan reconnaissance tank where the commander’s independent monitoring system should have been. The tank he’d boarded with his friends, Manny Herrera in the gunner’s seat, Yeung Kim in the communications position, and Kareem Reece in the driver’s seat, had been a hangar queen used for spare parts until recently. Morris was a mechanic by trade, as were his friends, but they knew more than a little about the vehicles in their care. He considered his response to Commander Mason’s question before tapping a switch on the back of his mechanic’s ear protection.
“Yes, ma’am. We’re with you, Deathangel 25. I have eleven folks under my command, and we’re prepared to assist with one Titan, two Avengers, and a Mk 6 CASPer.”
Mason’s reply came back immediately. “You’re not in any of the documentation I have from the Victoria Forces, Lightning Six.”
“You want me to forward you a personnel data form, Deathangel 25?”
“Answer my question, kid.”
Fine.
“I’m Drew Morris, intermediate mechanic and assistant armorer. Ten of my people are junior mechanics on the maintenance team. We have seventy rounds of tank ammunition between us and whatever machine gun ammo we could scrounge when this shit went south. We’re not going to sit back in the hangar and die.”
For two seconds, there was no response. “You’ve got ten people in hangar queens?”
“It’s all I could get on short notice, 25,” Morris deadpanned. “We’re prepared to move out on your command. We can shoot, move, and communicate.”
“Lightning Six, against my better judgment, you’re cleared to attack. Stay as far east as you can, and try not to let the Cochkala see you.”
Morris peeked out of the commander’s hatch. “I think we can do that, Deathangel Two Five.”
“Move out, Lightning Six.”
Morris exhaled and looked at Kim across the breech of the main gun to his left. “Get me the team on a common frequency.”
“Channel two.” Kim gave him a thumbs-up. “Working to patch command through, too.”
“Don’t bother,” Morris replied. “As long as we’ve got comms with Deathangel Two Five, we’re good.”
“Copy.”
“Manny? We set?”
“Gun’s loaded, boss. Have twenty rounds aboard. We gave the others 30 each. It’s all sabot. The guns aren’t boresighted, but if we put the tube on a target, we should be able to kill it,” Herrera answered.
“Reece?”
“We’re up. I don’t have third gear, but I can make it work,” Reece replied.
Morris nodded and pressed the channel button. “Lightning elements, this is Lightning Six. Move out on me. Keep a spread and haul ass across the open space to the terminal. We’re going to the east side of it. Deathangel Two Five has us covered. Move out.”
“Lightning Seven, roger.” His wingman, Rachel Edwards, replied from her Avenger tank. She’d be the middle of their line formation.
“Lightning Eight, moving.” Lionel Dewberry’s Avenger would bring up the rear.
Morris pulled the oblong commander’s hatch closed as Reece fired up the massive twin turbine engines, and the Titan lurched forward. The acceleration pushed Morris back in his seat as the tank raced through the open door of the main hangar complex. “Orient the gun!”
Herrera swung the gun tube hard to the right in the general direction of the Cochkala position. The main gun and forward, coaxially-mounted machine gun displays changed to show the battle-ravaged spaceport flying past. Hulks of burning armor were visible in the distance, both tanks and CASPers.
CASPers! Shit!
“Araceli? Araceli, where are you?”
“Your left flank, Lightning Six. Next time, try not to forget me.” Araceli Signes wasn’t a member of the Victoria Forces. She was two weeks shy of her eighteenth birthday. Her father was one of the forward area controllers who was likely dead in the rubble of the command post. She’d been a fixture around the maintenance hangars for years because her mother, Isabella, had been the maintenance master for the armor section until her death from a rare, untreatable cancer eighteen months earlier. Araceli hated tanks, but loved powered-armor suits. She’d jumped into the old, damaged Mk 6 without a second thought, and not even Governor Watson could stop her. Morris loved her like a sister and allowing her to charge into battle with inferior equipment and very little training seemed like a stupid idea.
On his display, he watched Araceli launch the CASPer into the sky. At her apex, some thirty meters above them, she fired six quick rounds from the MAC on her right shoulder. He grinned. She knew what she was doing.
“Looking good, Lightning Nine.”
“Copy. Move your ass. Danger area ahead. They’ll be able to see you,” Signes responded. “They’re maybe fifteen seconds away.”
“Reece? Floor that sonuvabitch,” Morris said. “Manny, take out anything firing at us.”
Ten seconds.
This wasn’t your best idea, Drew.
Not by a long shot.
Five seconds.
“Let ‘er buck!” Herrera screamed. A series of flashes from the scattered infantry and skiffs meant rounds were headed in their direction.
“Open fire!” Morris grabbed the controls for his exterior gun and aimed the cannons at the Cochkala. As he squeezed the trigger, he heard a scream from inside the tank. He realized the scream was his, and he let it come. Being out of the maintenance bay and in the fight felt better than it should have, if only for a few seconds.
* * *
Main Aviation Hangar Complex
Victoria Bravo
“Mako One Three, this is Deathangel Two Five. Fallen angel. I repeat, fallen angel.”
Carter blinked at the radio headset dangling over his left shoulder. He grabbed it and pulled it over his ear as the voice came again.
“Mako One Three, this
is Deathangel Two Five. I show your systems operational and ready. I have a fallen angel to retrieve. Over.”
Carter shook his head. “Mako One Three is down. My primary pilot and PJ are dead.”
“You’ve got an aircraft, Thirteen. I’ve got a badly wounded Peacemaker. If she’s going to make it, I have to have you.”
Carter nodded and stood. The word Peacemaker grabbed his complete and undivided attention. He glanced at the aircraft, knowing what he had to do. Mako One Three sat forty meters away. Despite the shrapnel wounds to his arms and legs, he started to jog. “Mako Thirteen is moving.”
“Hey!”
Carter kept moving. As he maneuvered through the triage area, he caught the eye of Sergeant Mata. Her color had returned, and she was sitting on a cot. He smiled at her.
“Hey! Sir!”
Carter turned and watched the young medic, Doc, running toward him. “What is it?”
“Where are you going? You shouldn’t be moving.”
Carter tapped his earpiece. “Fallen angel. There’s a wounded Peacemaker on the field. I’m going to get her.”
“You don’t have a copilot,” Doc said. “Or a PJ.”
“I’m going out there, man,” Carter replied. He saw Mata stand. Nanites had taken care of most of her shrapnel wounds. Her skin was pale, but there was determination in her eyes.
“I’m coming with you,” she said. “You need another set of eyes in that cockpit.”
He wanted to argue, but the young woman’s voice was firm. There was a hint of a smile on her lips, and he decided he liked it. In fact, if he was flying to his death, he’d like to see her face as he drifted away. “You ever flown anything before?”
“Seems like a good time to learn, sir.”
Carter grinned and started walking. Mata took his arm.
“Godsdammit!” Doc exclaimed behind them. Carter looked over his shoulder as the young medic raced through the sea of wounded and dying lying on litters across the hangar floor.
“You sure this is a good idea, sir?” Mata asked.
Deathangel Page 26
