Bukk brushed him aside and stepped forward. Xander noticed the Altar was no longer wearing the scarf as a sash. “Honored Ella’Chi, I am Bukk of the Altar, assigned to Force Two Five on a classified mission directed by the Peacemaker Guild.”
“Well met, Bukk. We are aware of you, this ship, and your mission. How can we assist the Peacemaker Guild?”
“This is not guild matter, yet. But, all transits out of the gate must be stopped immediately.”
The Sumatozou nodded solemnly. “We have been prepared since receiving intelligence from Peacemaker Kurrang several weeks ago. We are ready to execute our part of this operation to the best of our ability.”
Xander recovered his faculties enough to step forward. “What?”
“Oh, I see.” The Sumatozou laughed, a deep rumbling sound. “You are unaware of the next phase of this operation?”
“What are you talking about?” Xander asked. “Those bastards are getting ready to threaten you so that you’ll let them escape. You’re saying you’re ready for them? You’re going to fight them off?”
“Not us,” the Sumatozou replied.
<
Bukk turned to Xander. “It appears we’ve been caught with our shirts down.”
“Pants.” Xander shook his head. “The expression is caught with our pants down. I get the feeling Kurrang expected something to happen and called in the reinforcements in case we failed.”
The Sumatozou shook its head. “You are mistaken, Mister Alison. Peacemaker Kurrang expected success, but he wanted to dominate the enemy, not merely defeat them.”
Xander blinked. “But he said your guild was limiting their Blue Flights.”
“That was the direction from my guild master, yes. The situation has changed. Our guild has been targeted by emissaries from the Mercenary Guild. I have recommended that all constraints on the Peacemakers be withdrawn immediately.”
<
“Are they charging weapons?” Xander asked.
<
“Bring the cannon about, Lucille. Prepare to engage.”
“Given the proximity of the frigate to the gate, you must not fire. If you destroy that ship as it powers up its shunt, you could damage or destroy the gate. I am afraid you’ll have to let them go,” the gate master said. “I am sorry, Mister Alison.”
Xander fumed but understood. “We have no idea where they’re going.”
“No, but we will know when they get there. We will share that information with you. Of course, we cannot deliver that information to you immediately.”
Which means it won’t matter. By the time we know where they went, they’ll be gone. Xander clenched his jaw tightly and tried to refrain from an emotional outburst. Worse, if those arriving ships are not friendly, this whole situation could implode around us.
When Bukk spoke, Xander gasped in complete surprise.
“Well, shit,” the Altar said.
<
Xander looked at Bukk and shrugged. The Altar tried to replicate the move, but his upper abdomen was not as flexible as a Human’s shoulders. The resulting movement looked painful. Xander knew, though, that his friend felt the exact same emotions and frustration. The eerie premonition that all hell was about to break loose was nothing new. What bothered Xander Alison was that he could do nothing to stop whatever was coming.
God help us if they aren’t friendlies.
* * * * *
Chapter Twenty-Six
Avenger Six
Victoria Bravo
Major Vuong, in his Mk 7 CASPer, stepped out from his concealed position and fired four, quick MAC rounds at the closest lander—the one that had been in the center at the Victoria Spaceport. Four of the enemy’s landers had been destroyed before the forces inside deployed behind the Victoria position. The two remaining landers had taken more damage than the others, but still flew. His target looked exactly like the others, while the one hovering to the east did not. The Earth-bound forces of his grandfather’s had regularly been taught vehicle recognition. With the expansion of the galaxy and Earth’s inclusion in the Galactic Union, more vehicles, ships, and craft appeared than could be easily quantified, classified, and identified so that Humans could recognize them from a distance. Five of the landers had been bullet-shaped. The sixth was a more typical type of landing craft—a wide, stocky rectangle with multiple winglets on each side of the wide, armored fuselage for weaponry. Four winglets were visible, and each bristled with armament. The lander pivoted in mid-flight as Vuong watched. He didn’t have to guess at the lander’s target. He noticed it wasn’t Cochkala made, nor was it completely invulnerable. It was simply something else they had to face down.
“Lightning Six, Avenger Six. Enemy air to your six o’clock. Evasive action.”
“Copy!” Lightning Six’s voice seemed about two octaves higher than it had been. Vuong tried not to grin as he pressed his radio transmit button. “Hammerheads and Avengers. Synchronized fire in ten seconds. Avenger Six will designate the target.”
One by one his elements checked in with simple acknowledgments. Vuong listened, but he really wasn’t paying attention to them. He knew the litany like the back of his hand. He listened for familiar voices and—
Wait.
“Hammerhead Three, this is Avenger Six.”
“Avenger Six, be advised Hammerhead Three is heavily damaged and firing off the boresight only. No precise targeting, over.”
Vuong frowned. Loss of voice communication wasn’t a showstopper, as the saying went, but it did complicate things. “Understood, Three. Keep them firing as long as possible.”
“We’re ignoring gun tube heat warnings, Avenger Six. We’re going to ignore them until we’re dead in the water.”
“Copy.” Vuong saw the central lander smoking from recent impacts. Where it burns, it dies. Using the sighting reticle, Vuong aimed his MAC at the damaged area. Working quickly, he transmitted the targeting data to his vehicles. “This is Avenger Six, target is lit. Standby to fire.”
His platoon’s standard operating procedure was to initiate fire on a shared target within six seconds. Since the Hammerheads were attached to his element out of necessity, he gave them four extra seconds before locking on the target and firing.
“Avenger Six, up on the guns.” Vuong fired a burst of three MAC rounds at the lower hull of the lander. Within a heartbeat, multiple rounds slammed into the designated impact point. The lander shuddered. Vuong maintained his position, brought his MAC back up, and fired two, quick, three round bursts before ducking back into cover. Rounds impacted the ground around him. The distant lander’s range was far better than the others’.
Who are these guys? Where did they get that ship?
“Avenger Six, Hammerhead Three. Splash one!” Vuong risked a look and saw the lander spiraling out of control, heading for a very hard impact with the surface. He didn’t watch the descent. With his targeting computer still active, Vuong aimed at the last lander. According to a quick burst of his laser rangefinder, the lander was outside the maximum effective range of every weapon on his CASPer except the MAC. He glanced down at his ammunition stores information and frowned deeply.
Eleven rounds.
It wasn’t enough for him to make a difference. He designated the target and selected the command frequency. “All stations, all stations, this is Avenger Six. Target is designated. All available weapons lock and fire on this target immediately.”
He switched back to his company’s frequency. “Avengers, we have to get closer to the target to do any real damage. Standby to bound. Avenger Two, yo
u are with me. Bravo team provides covering fire. Five seconds.”
“Ready, Six,” Avenger Three called. Wooden was the most experienced of the three Avengers despite his youth. The kid from Georgia had a quiet, still demeanor that resonated with Vuong and the other kids. They looked up to him.
Three seconds.
Vuong looked at his tactical display and identified his destination. Where the taxiways from the spaceport’s active runway rolled uphill toward the terminal, there was a culvert deep enough to hide his section. He took a deep breath and ensured his CASPer’s mechanisms were free. Running and jumping in the powered suits was never as easy as the recruiting videos made it seem.
“Avenger Six is on the move. Let’s go, Two!”
“Moving!”
Vuong didn’t look back. Either Gannon was going to be there, or he wasn’t. The youngest, most inexperienced CASPer pilot was motivated as hell, but he was awkward and clumsy in the powered mechas. Rounds of cannon fire and hypervelocity accelerated slugs slammed into the ground around him. Vuong squeezed his hands into fists and jumped. While the Mk 7 climbed, he brought his MAC up. The control mechanism automatically locked onto his last target. He raised his right fist, squeezed his palm, and fired four rounds before he reached the apex of his leap.
On the descent, he fired three additional rounds before turning his attention to the landing site just short of the culvert. He kept his CASPer under exquisite control as he landed, then he ran forward to cover. As he turned his back to the higher ground, he saw Gannon easily slide into place next to him.
“Set,” Gannon called.
“Bravo team, clear to bound. Two, up with me.” Vuong looked at the ground behind them. Moving forward two meters would provide considerable cover yet still enable them to fire small arms at the target. Vuong reached down and snapped his arms tight, looking for the mounts for the hand cannons attached to the Mk 7’s thighs. He withdrew the guns from their holsters and brought them up, noting with satisfaction that Gannon had done the same.
“You ready, Gannon?”
“Semper paratus, sir.”
Vuong smiled. The kid just might get it after all. “Bravo team, bound! Covering fire!”
They stepped out together, spinning to their right in unison. As Vuong centered his hand cannons and squeezed the triggers to fire short, controlled bursts, he saw movement. Both his Bravo elements, Avengers 3 and 4, bounded toward a culvert about one hundred meters to the north. Behind them, moving forward at breakneck speed, came a Mk 6 CASPer and a gleaming Mk 8.
“Avenger Six, Deathangel Two Five, closing through on your six.”
“Copy, Deathangel Two Five. I have visual. Clear to traverse,” Vuong replied. “Has Lightning Six cleared the area?”
“Negative, Avenger Six. We’ve got to keep that gunship occupied and—”
WHAMM!
The impact jolted Vuong, and he flung himself into the relative cover of the slope. Loose dirt slid into the culvert from the shoulder of the taxiway above them. Across the thirty-meter concrete pathway, a black cloud rose.
“Avenger Three, you with me?”
His ears filled with static, and Vuong swore under his breath.
“Standby, Two. We’re on the attack.”
“Sir?” Gannon asked. “We’re down two CASPers and—”
“No, you’re not.” He recognized the voice of Tara Mason. “Avenger Six, Deathangel Two Five closing on your five o’clock. Maintain covering fire. We’ll be there in ten seconds.”
“On it,” Vuong replied. He charged his hand cannons and armed his MAC. “Let’s go, kid!”
They stepped out and saw the remaining lander edging slightly to the south and east as if it were following something. As they did, the lander pilots oriented the nose back on the center of the Victoria Forces. Continuous fire from the weapons pylons hammered various targets. The icons for Avenger Three, Avenger Four, and Hammerhead Four dropped off his command and control display. Vuong locked his MAC onto a pylon bearing a swiveling globe that was firing some type of laser. He fired four rounds at the weapon and grunted in satisfaction as the third round tore the weapon apart. A spectacular secondary explosion ripped what was left of the pylon from the lander’s blocky fuselage.
“Hit that bastard, Two.”
“Firing!” Gannon replied. Vuong watched the youngster fire at the scar where the lander’s pylon had torn away. The softer, less protected underside of the winglet immediately flared and smoked.
“Nice shooting, Avenger Six,” Mason said. He saw a scarred, white and gray Mk 6 fly toward the lander, followed by Mason’s sleek, distinctive Mk 8. Eyes back on the lander, Vuong watched the ship descend quickly, as if diving toward a spot halfway between the spaceport’s perimeter fencing and the city.
There wasn’t anything there, except for the water treatment facility. Why would they want—
Shit!
“Deathangel Two Five, they’re heading for the water system.”
“Affirmative, Avenger Six. Standby to bound. We’ve got to find a way to get there before they do, or this whole thing is over.”
* * *
Lovell City
Victoria Bravo
From the jostling and urgent voices, Vannix knew the MinSha infantry were moving her. She opened her eyes and blinked several times, attempting to focus. Buildings, trees, and blue sky became visible. Vannix attempted to raise her head, but she was too weak. Four MinSha were carrying her on a makeshift litter—one at each corner. The strong, female warriors easily handled her comparatively light body, and she felt like she might fly off the stretcher as they ran.
“Here,” she heard one of them say. The MinSha at her right shoulder turned to the others. “Center. Steady. Lower.”
They set the litter on the ground a moment later, and Vannix’s strained sense of equilibrium returned. She blinked again as the MinSha leaned over her. She recognized Lieutenant Whirr and nodded.
“What...what are you doing?”
“Administering a stabilizer and getting you out of here, Peacemaker,” Whirr replied. “Evacuation is on the way.”
“Where are the Cochkala?” Vannix wheezed. Her chest and arms hurt as though a million burning fleas had burrowed themselves in her fur. She barely felt the sting of the hypodermic needle in her thigh. “Where did they go?”
“They’re in the water system under the city. We think they’re moving to rejoin their ship or one of the landers.” Whirr nodded. “Before you say anything, I’ve dispatched a squad to find them, and we’re getting maps of the tunnels from Governor Watson and his men.”
Vannix shook her head feebly. “Leave me here—go get them.”
“No,” Whirr replied. Her antennae bobbed to one side in concern. “You are my primary effort, Peacemaker. There is a fallen angel operation underway to retrieve you. The rest of the battle is not your concern. Please, rest. Try to remain still and breathe as normally as you can.”
Vannix licked her dry mouth and chops. Through her whiskers, she felt a change in the wind. Through the ground, she felt a clomping in the distance. It came again, but closer. The third time, she jerked and tried to find the source. She looked up and saw a Mk 7 CASPer bearing the markings of the Victoria Forces landing in the middle of the intersection. As it landed and stabilized, she saw WARTHOG SIX painted on the front of the CASPer, below a crude nose art drawing of a wild boar from Earth holding a lightning bolt in one hand and raising a…middle finger with the other.
The CASPers external speaker came on. “Bring her here. Lift her into my arms.”
Whirr and the other MinSha picked up the litter and ran to the CASPer. The MinSha leaned down to Vannix. “I am afraid this is going to hurt, Peacemaker. There is no other way.”
Vannix looked up at the faceless CASPer, then back at Whirr. She gritted her teeth. “Do it.”
“On three,” Whirr said. On the count of two, she and one of the other MinSha grasped the Veetanho Peacemaker under the shoulders, picked he
r up, and settled her in Whirr’s arms. With one forearm under Vannix’s shoulders and the other under her legs, Whirr climbed onto the backs of two of her warriors and nestled her into the outstretched arms of the CASPer.
“Got her!” she heard the CASPer’s pilot call. “Clear to jump.”
Vannix watched Whirr and the others step back, grab their long rifles from the ground, and scatter toward the tunnels to the west. She looked at the dull gray metal of the CASPer’s cockpit and wished she could see the pilot’s face. His name was stenciled on the cockpit rail—Captain Chris Hogshead.
“I’ve got you, Peacemaker. Hold tight,” Hogshead said over the external speaker. “This is going to be a bumpy ride.”
She started to respond when Hogshead ran forward. The damned CASPers were faster and more balanced than she’d believed from the simulations. Granted, her anatomy wouldn’t allow her to pilot one, so everything she’d done was simulated, but she was fascinated by the difference in movement. She heard a whine coming from the CASPer and knew the pilot was preparing to fire the jumpjets. Turning her head, she saw a six-story building standing in the way. Hogshead didn’t slow down.
“Uppa we go!” Hogshead yelled and planted both feet. As the jumpjets fired, Vannix gaped in shock as they quickly shot past the building. In a heartbeat, she saw the roof below them, then the far side of the building as the CASPer flew.
Smiling, Vannix strained to see the battlefield in the distance. The lander Whirr had spoken of appeared to be descending over the city’s water plant. There were two CASPers closing in on it. No, more than that. She watched them take cover, then fire as two more CASPers took their place. Vannix recognized Alpha One and Deathangel Two Five.
Tara and Jackson.
She watched them until Warthog Six began descending. They landed, and she felt the CASPer reach running speed much faster than she expected. Hogshead ducked down two streets, then raced west toward the spaceport. Over the speaker, she heard him on the radio. “Mako One Three, I have the angel. Repeat, I have the angel. Need a landing zone update, over.”
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