by J Porteous
'They're clever, I'll give them that,' Hawke said. 'They're trying to hide their radar signature in the shadow of the hill. Looks like they were expecting to be followed.'
Justinia brushed ash off of her visor. 'Expect trouble then,' she said, as she pushed her rifle snugly into her shoulder. She looked back at the group. 'Let's not keep them waiting.'
The crew pushed forward towards the hill, the unrelenting ash continuing to smother the landscape and crew alike. The ash that settled gave little resistance to their advance, the weight and force of their combat armour easily pushing it aside, but the walk did not seem any easier. The hill itself was much bigger than any hill Carl had seen before. On any other planet it would have been deemed a mountain, but it looked diminutive compared to the hulking super-volcanoes that dominated the distant horizon. The magma bursting from them appeared to be so high above them that it would have been easy to mistake it for an ongoing battle on the edge of the stratosphere.
A weak burst of static came through the comm unit. 'Hello? Are you getting this?'
Justinia held a hand up, bringing the group to a halt. 'Yeah, reading you,' she said. 'What have you got?'
'Good,' Hawke said. 'The signal is getting weak but if the scanner is correct you are almost on of top of them.'
Carl followed the rest of the group in staring ahead through the hazy atmosphere. Nothing.
Justinia pressed a hand to her communication unit. 'Not seeing anything here, Hawke.'
'The seismic scanner says that the ground drops away,' Hawke said. 'Just before the hill. The Hell Hammer is set in the dip.'
'On it.' Justinia looked up at the group. 'Looks like we are here. Weapons ready.'
'Do not forget that there are four ships,' Arrathnar said. 'We need to make sure they stay grounded until we can search them all for the stone.'
Justinia nodded in agreement. 'Try to keep it non-contact until we get close. If you see someone running for a ship, just let them have it.'
Carl's heart thudded violently in his chest. Whoever or whatever is down in this crater, they are to blame for the New England. For my parents death. Adrenaline flooded his system, his legs becoming restless as they stood checking weapons in silence. A finger tapped his shoulder. Watts stood there, a grimace spread over his face. Carl nodded an acknowledgment. 'Watts.'
'Whatever we find down there,' Watts said. 'However you want to handle it, I've got your back.' He held out a hand to Carl.
Carl stared back at the wiry engineer for a moment. What am I going to do when I do catch up with them? If he was being honest with himself, he had not thought that far ahead. 'Thanks,' he said. He grabbed Watts' hand and shook it. 'Some closure would be nice.'
'Plenty of time for the love making when you get back,' Justinia said, a smile tugging at her face.
Watts grinned back and slapped Carl's back. 'Nothing wrong with a bit of camaraderie,' he said. The grin dropped from his face as he lowered his visor. 'Let's get to it.'
The group made their way forward, waiting to feel the land descending underneath them. The ground soon began to give way, leading them down a sharp incline and into the crater ahead of them.
Justinia threw a hand signal, and they all dropped low in the ash. They watched the land below them intently, the ash plastering everything in the same dull hue. They waited, looking for some sign of movement among the dead landscape.
'Is Hawke sure this is the location?' Watts muttered, his eyes scanning the scene intently. 'I know the ash is making things hard to see but-'
Before Watts could speak any further, a light burnt through the endless sea of grey that stretched before them. Shadow figures appeared briefly, before disappearing into the world of ash.
'Got the bastards,' Justinia said. She turned to Carl, led next to her in the rising ash. 'The ash must have entirely coated their ships, we're not going to see them until we are right on top of them.'
As if on command, a large noise thundered up the hill, a noise that Carl recognised all too well. 'That's a warp drive starting up,' he said. His heart pounded, a mixture of fear and excitement. I won't let them get away, not again. He brought up his communication unit. 'Hawke, you need to get airborne immediately.'
The response was quiet and distorted. 'Goban? What's going on?'
'We've got a ship taking off right now, we've got no chance of stopping it in time.'
'Fuck.' The line stayed dead for a moment. 'Heading to your location now. Don't worry, Goban, we'll get them.'
'Don't worry about that,' Carl said. 'I just hope the stone isn't on board.'
'You and me both. Hawke out.'
The warp drive burst into life. The ash around the ship rippled before being blasted away as the baseline thrusters kicked in, revealing the bare rock underneath. The ash fell away from the ship, revealing its identity. The hard angles and grey and white paint job gave it away. A Starblade interceptor? What are military ships doing warping in and out of systems with the Hell Hammer?
A loud rumble shook the ground as the rear drive kicked in, blasting away the ash in the surrounding area. Three other ships were revealed, their ash cloaks stripped from them. Another two Starblades flanked a third ship. The Hell Hammer. The mercenary ship sat snugly between the military ships, its brilliant yellow paint job stood proud against the drab exteriors of the two Starblades. It still displayed the crude paint job that was tastelessly emblazoned on the side. Two crossed hammers against the background of a skull. Carl could not help but laugh to himself. Original.
Justinia leapt to her feet. 'No time for subtlety,' she yelled over the roar of the engines. 'Show them what you've got, Bastards.' She charged forwards toward the revealed ships, the rest of the crew jumping into action behind her.
Carl launched himself up, yelling an unintelligible cry at the top of his lungs. His vision became blinkered, the world around him disappearing. The ships in the crater answered his battle cry. Their ramps dropped and the murky shapes of troopers spilled out into the base of the crater. The sound of the Starblade that hovered above the scene disappeared as it took flight.
Carl risked a glance up, catching the glow of thrusters as they disappeared into the fog of ash. Come on, Hawke. The War Goddess thundered over head, an answer to his thoughts, roaring after the Starblade. He brought his focus back to the much more immediate situation. The troopers ahead of him were now forming up in a line, taking cover behind whatever sizable rocks they could find.
Justinia opened fire next to him as they charged down the hill. Her rounds blasted away chunks of rock and boulder, the troopers behind them ducking behind their disintegrating cover. Returning rounds whistled past Carl's head, a stark shock of how exposed he was.
He threw himself behind a nearby boulder, his body slamming into the rock and causing the ash to billow out like a cloud. He saw Watts and Arrathnar do the same, diving behind whatever cover they came across. He peered around the rock, firing off rounds at any trooper who dared to poke their helmet out of cover.
'They're dug in well,' Watts shouted out, wincing as rounds ripped away pieces of rock around him.
Outnumbered and outgunned. Without a positional advantage they would eventually be overrun and killed. He gritted his teeth. I did not come this far to die. 'Throw me a thermal charge,' Carl yelled back. Watts fumbled around in his ammo bag before throwing a charge over. Carl caught the device and gave him a quick thumbs up.
He braced himself against the rock, then launched himself out of cover, blindly firing towards the horde in front of him. He sprinted forward, taking shots where he could. One round slammed through a helmet, red mist spraying into the air and mingling with the ash, another round glanced off armoured plating.
A large section of rock lay ahead, providing sizable cover for the enemy force. Carl primed the charge and threw it against the mid section of the formation. More rounds rained down on him, blasting chunks out of the landscape around him. He dived behind a low lying rock and pulled out the thermal trigger.
He braced himself for the shock wave and pressed the button.
A blast rang out, sending debris high into the air. Carl covered his head as large rocks landed, pounding into the ground around him and throwing up great plumes of ash. The clear sound of screams and orders being barked informed him that he did the damage he intended. He looked up to see Arrathnar and Watts rushing forward, taking rough shots at the troopers as they approached his position.
Watts grabbed Carl. 'Did you see that? That was amazing!' He laughed maniacally to himself.
'Do not celebrate just yet,' Arrathnar said. 'We still need to get to those ships.'
An explosion showered them in vapourised rock, the sound deafening them. Watts shook his head and crawled to look around the corner. 'Ah, fuck.' He quickly pulled himself back into cover as rounds ripped apart the ground where he had been led. 'They've just rolled out a Heavy Combat Synth.'
Carl thought back to the carnage the Synth on the Royal Hunt had caused. He looked at Watts. 'How many thermals have we got?'
'We've got enough,' he said. 'Just need to get close enough, that's all.'
'That is not our only problem,' Arrathnar said, nudging Carl's shoulder.
He followed her gaze to see a handful of troops running back towards the Hell Hammer. 'What are they doing?'
'What do you think?' Arrathnar said. She grabbed Carl's arm, earning his focus. 'We cannot let them take off.' She flinched as more rounds zipped over head.
Justinia skidded across the ash and dropped behind cover with them. 'Plenty more fighting to be done,' she said, chucking another clip into her rifle. 'Especially since they rolled that Combat Synth out.'
'We'll take care of the Synth,' Watts said, pointing a finger between himself and Justinia. 'You and Arrathnar go take those bastards out before they escape.' They all ducked as another explosion ripped chunks out of the ground behind them, closer this time. Watts pulled his helmet straight. 'Don't go doing anything I wouldn't do.'
Carl nodded back. 'We'll be back before you know it.'
Arrathnar looked at him, her eyes a picture of intensity. 'Are you ready?'
Carl checked the clip in his rifle and steeled himself. 'As I'll ever be.'
Both of them watched as Justinia and Watts stood and fired down the hill towards the Combat Synth. Whatever they were yelling was drowned out by the chaos around them. More rounds answered their cry. Justinia looked back at them and screamed a silent Go.
Carl sprinted out from behind cover, Arrathnar easily keeping pace as they thundered down the remaining hillside. Rounds started heading their way, whistling past them. Keep running, he told himself. Whatever you do, just keep running. The Hell Hammer lay at the bottom of the slope, nestled in the protection of the crater. Carl watched the figures breaking for the ship, on a quick count it looked to be five troopers.
A number of troopers appeared in the ground between them and the Hell Hammer, intent on stopping them from making it. Carl raised his rifle, firing round after round at whatever body part was exposed. One round burst through a kneecap, the trooper's weight instantly felling him, while another ripped through a hand, an explosion of blood and sinew.
A round caught Arrathnar across the chest, glancing off of her armour plating. She stumbled briefly before bursting ahead with renewed vigour, easily outpacing Carl. She closed ground quickly on a trooper, bringing her weapon full force into the trooper's head as he fumbled to reload his weapon, crumpling him under the ash.
One last trooper stood between them and the Hell Hammer. Carl slammed into the trooper with his full weight, the force sending them both flying into the ash. Carl pulled himself up, landing a bunched fist into the trooper's helmet as he tried to clamber to his feet. He jumped on top of the trooper, throwing fist after fist into the helmet until it cracked under his immense blows.
Carl pulled himself to his feet through ragged breaths. Arrathnar threw him the rifle that had flown from his hands a moment earlier. 'I thought the Harathdans didn't fight?'
Arrathnar offered a quick smile. 'Strange times cause strange events.' She nodded towards the Hell Hammer. 'Come. We do not have time to waste.'
Fire coursed through Carl's body. He had never felt so violent, so unstoppable, so alive. He glanced back up the hill to see rounds tearing into the cover which separated Watts and Justinia from a violent death, the rock crumbling away thick and fast as they fired back.
'Come on,' Arrathnar said, grabbing his arm. 'The sooner we stop this ship, the sooner we can help your friends.'
Carl prised his eyes away from them and turned his attention towards the Hell Hammer. Two figures ran down the ramp towards them. Carl recognised their armour, the same logo adorning their chest plates as was on the side of the Hell Hammer. They hesitated when they spotted Carl and Arrathnar approaching, then raised their rifles in unison. Carl raised his rifle in return and fired two rounds, each finding their target. The first round punched through one mercenary's chest armour, his body falling and rolling down the boarding ramp. The second round smashed through the others visor, dropping him like a rag doll.
Carl and Arrathnar surged up the ramp, into the drop bay of the ship, and on into the innards of the Hell Hammer. The corridors were similar to that of the War Goddess, very basic, with harsh strip lighting, but there was one striking difference. The walls were riddled with holes from what looked to have been an intense firefight, scarring the interior with sharp-edged gaps. They made their way onward to the cockpit.
Arrathnar stopped Carl as they arrived at the cockpit door. 'Three of them left,' she said. 'We burst in, I will sweep left, you right.'
Carl gritted his teeth and nodded. He shouldered his weapon and nudged the door button with his elbow. The door slid open. Two more mercenaries swiveled around in shock, hands raised above their heads.
'Wait! Wai-'
Arrathnar pulled the trigger, the round bursting one of their heads like an over ripe fruit, before pivoting and emptying the rest of her clip into the other one. She shot a glance at Carl. 'A bit slow off the mark there.'
'There's only two,' Carl said, dropping his rifle from his shoulder. 'We were expecting three.'
Arrathnar stepped into the cockpit, inspecting the bodies of the two mercenaries. She grasped one of them by the hair, raising up the head of the slumped mercenary, her other hand tracing something on his face. 'Recognise something?'
Carl stepped in and looked down at the blood splattered face of the mercenary. A large, claw-like scar raked across his face. It was deeper and more severe than Hawke's, but it was unmistakable. He stared into the mercenary's dead eyes, lost for words.
Arrathnar let the mercenary's head slump to his chest again. She waited a moment for Carl to look up at her. 'Now can you see why I am worried about Hawke?'
It explained why the crew of the Hell Hammer had dropped off the radar. It explained why the ship was riddled with signs of battle as well. He cursed silently. Hawke was alone with the ship, chasing after the other Starblade, what was to stop him leaving them here? What if this was his chance to betray them? Another thought entered his head, his hair standing on end. 'The third trooper...' he murmured to himself. Arrathnar had not heard him and continued to poke around the cockpit.
He stood silently, listening while Arrathnar patted down the bodies. What was that? He took his helmet off to hear better. There is was again. Something shuffled slightly, and something else could be heard too. Breathing? He glanced at Arrathnar, and she had noticed it too.
She nodded to the grate underneath his feet and shouldered her weapon. Carl slowly reached down, curling his fingers around the grate. With lightening speed, he wrenched the grate up and reached down, grabbing something with both hands and hauling it into the cockpit.
A military trooper cowered on the floor, mumbling something. Carl pulled the trooper to their feet and launched them into the control console, sending them sprawling. He was quickly on top of the trooper, pinning them against the console by their throat. 'Where do
you think you're going?' He brought down a heavy fist against the trooper's helmet, causing them to cry out in pain. He brought down another fist for good measure. 'Why did you destroy the New England? Why the fuck did you do it?'
His body was on fire, power surging through him. The trooper mumbled something, but nothing coherent. Carl hauled the trooper back to their feet and slammed a fist into their gut, knocking them to the floor. The trooper reached out a hand to steady themselves on one of the command consoles.
Carl stood towering over the cowering form before him. He brought his heel down on the hand that stopped them from falling to the floor, bones cracking under the weight. 'You're going to answer me, and then you're going to die.' The trooper writhed and groaned as he removed his boot from their hand. He grasped the trooper by the helmet and wrenched it off. An invisible fist smashed into his stomach. All power drained from him, his hand letting the helmet fall clattering to the floor.
Rix?
She was battered and blood-splattered, but all too recognisable. Emotions mixed and merged. The adrenaline that coursed through his veins had no way to escape him, poisoning him with an overdose of hatred, grief and disbelief.
'I'm sorry, Carl,' she muttered through broken lips, her head dipped to the floor. 'I didn't mean for this to happen. I shouldn't be here.' She quietly sobbed to herself. 'I shouldn't be here...'
'No,' Carl said, stepping backwards, his eyes transfixed on her. He shook his head slowly. 'No, this can't be right. This can't be right, can it?' Her relentless sobbing told him everything I need to know.
'I'm sorry, Gobbo, I'm so sorry...'
Carl pushed one of the dead mercenaries off of the pilot's chair and slumped in it, glazed eyes staring at the wretched form in front of him. What do I do? What now? Part of him wanted to pull her to her feet, to hold her tight. She was like a little sister to him. The other part wanted to crush her skull against the desk she knelt at.
'I'm sorry, Carl, I'm so sorr-'
'Stop,' he said, finally forcing some words to leave his dry throat. 'Just stop.' He grabbed her chin and lifted her head, locking eyes with hers. 'How about you tell me what the fuck is going on? What happened on the New England?'
