“It’s complicated,” I said. “The Peace Fortress is probably going to explode.”
“Because of what I did? Because of blowing the reactor?”
“There’s a lot of blame to go around on this one,” I said. “Hard to say how much is actually your fault.”
“Sasha,” Rex growled. “What in Space is going on? Did you do something to the penny-ante applecart cannon?”
“No, sir,” I said. “Ted did.”
“Ted?” Rex asked. “I knew there was something I didn’t like about that guy. Never should have broken him out of prison.”
“It wouldn’t have made any difference, sir. He sabotaged the cannon twenty years ago.”
“He thinks ahead, I’ll give him that much,” said Rex. “If this place is going to explode, we should probably get to the Flagrante Delicto.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” said Sergeant Ricketts, pointing his lazegun at Rex.
“You can come with us,” said Rex. “Or we can all die here together. Your choice. Is your loyalty to the Malarchy so great that you’d prefer to die than let us escape? Before you answer, keep in mind that the hot tub on Our Moment of Triumph seats six, and there are only five people on board.”
The sergeant thought for a moment, then sheathed his lazegun. “Let’s go.” We made our way down the corridor toward the hangar deck.
“Wick!” I said into the comm unit. “Get Fingers and Issimo and get to the Flagrante Delicto. Ted too, I guess.”
“Do I have to?” he asked.
“Well, no,” I replied. “But if you don’t, you’re going to get blown to pieces.”
“Fingers and Issimo are evacuating with the other marines on one of the battleships,” said Wick. “I was thinking of going with them. Is that OK?”
“Why are you asking me?” I said. “Do whatever you want.”
“I mean because of the reactor thing. Do you think I can still be a marine?”
“I think they’d be lucky to have you, Wick. Everybody blows a reactor or two in their youth. Good luck.”
“Thanks, Sasha.”
Rex, Sergeant Ricketts, and I made it through the chaos of evacuating marines and got aboard the Flagrante Delicto with only seconds to spare. I fired the engines and we took off with a jolt, trailing behind a small fleet of Malarchian battleships. As we hurtled into the black, a gigantic blast erupted behind us, blinding us with white light. The Flagrante Delicto shook violently, knocking us to the floor. The Peace Fortress had exploded with enough force to destroy a planet. Unfortunately, I saw on the rear-facing viewscreen, the planet itself was still there. Rex regarded the ugly brown ball glumly as I rationalized a course back to the forest moon.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
All of Rex’s most promising moneymaking schemes died along with the battle station. Schufnaasik Six remained fully intact, such as it was, so there was no bilking the Malarchy out of development funds, and if the entropic modulators were inherently flawed, then the designs for the reactor and the cannon I had cached in my memory were worthless. Rex had a debt of 1.6 billion credits and no possible way to pay it off. And now that the Galactic Credit Bureau no longer held Wick as collateral, repo bots were going to be scouring every civilized planet in the galaxy for us. It was an indication of the seriousness of our plight that the safest place for us to be was a backwater moon targeted for imminent destruction by Heinous Vlaak.
Vlaak’s prized battle station had been destroyed, but the Malarchy was far from defeated. A small fleet of warships had escaped the carnage, and now that Vlaak was no longer distracted by a nonexistent cloaking facility on Schufnaasik Six, he would direct his attention to the rebel base on the forest moon. Our only hope was to get there first. If we could get to the base in time to warn the Frente of the impending attack, we could get them to evacuate and find another planet to set up shop. The Frente would live to fight another day, and Rex and I would hide out with them until Rex figured out a way to come up with 1.6 billion credits. It wasn’t a great plan, but it was what we had.
We had one advantage over the Malarchian fleet: we knew exactly where the rebel base was. If Wick hadn’t told his superiors about the tree, the rebels might have enough time to evacuate before the attack started. If he had told them . . . well, it was best not to think about that. We landed on top of the car park and made our way to Princess Willie’s reception chamber.
“Where’s the rest of your team?” she demanded. “What happened to General Issimo? Where have you been?”
“The good news is, we blew up the Malarchian battle station,” said Rex. “Well, it blew up. I’m a little unclear on how much of that was our doing. As I understand it, we stopped it from not blowing up, which is pretty much the same thing as blowing it up.”
“And the bad news?”
“We lost five men. Was it five, Sasha? I lost count.”
“How did you get five men killed?” the princess cried in exasperation. “There were only four on your team!”
“Oh, they didn’t all get killed,” Rex said. “Three of them converted. Better uniforms, you know.”
“Converted? You mean they joined the Malarchy?”
“Afraid so,” said Rex. “People these days have no sense of loyalty. Speaking of which, we’ve brought a Malarchian sergeant with us. He wants to sign up with the Frente.”
“What about the general?”
“He was one of the converts,” I said. “Him, Wick, and Fingers.”
A horrified look came over the princess’s face. “But if they joined the Malarchy, then . . .”
A distant explosion sounded overhead.
“Yeah, that’s the other bad news,” said Rex. “The Malarchian fleet is on its way here.”
“Princess!” crackled a voice over her comm unit. “This is Major Herle. A Malarchian fleet has entered the forest moon’s atmosphere. They seem to be heading our way.”
“How many ships, Major?”
“At least thirty, Your Highness.”
“Fire the lazecannons!” the princess ordered.
“They are still out of range,” said the major. “They should be in range in about two minutes.”
“I would suggest evacuating the base, Princess,” I said. “You’re not going to be able to hold out against a full Malarchian assault. I assume you have some sort of evacuation plan?”
“The plan is secret,” said Princess Willie. “General Issimo has it.”
“Corporal Issimo,” I corrected. “And he’s probably not going to be of much help under the circumstances.”
“This is a disaster!” cried the princess. “What’s the status of the cloaking device? Can we hide our ships as we evacuate?”
“I didn’t have a whole lot of time to get the cloaking device working what with all of the sabotaging of Malarchian battle stations I was doing, Princess,” snapped Rex. “I suggest you get your people on the ships as fast as you can and get out of here.”
“We’d have to turn off the repulsion barrier to launch the ships,” said Princess Willie. “If we did that, the Malarchy would blast this whole facility to atoms. As long as we stay here, we’re safe from an air assault.”
Another explosion sounded overhead, closer this time.
“What is that?” asked the princess. She tapped her comm unit. “Major, are you firing at Malarchian ships?”
“No, ma’am,” replied the major. “They’re still out of range. Some of the ships appear to be exploding on their own.”
“Is this your doing?” the princess asked Rex hopefully. “Did you sabotage the Malarchian starships?”
I intercepted the question before Rex could take credit. “The ships rely on dangerously unstable technology, Your Highness. Their plasmatic entropy reactors are exploding.”
“Will they all explode?” asked the princess.
“E
ventually,” I said. “The Chaotic Equilibrium works in mysterious ways.” I hated myself for saying it.
“So we just have to hold out until their ships all explode!”
“Well, yes,” I said. “But the Malarchy will land some of their ships out of range and send in marines to take out the repulsion barrier propagators,” I said. “If they take out the repulsion barrier while they still have one intact destroyer overhead, we’re all dead. And as I say, it’s impossible to predict how long their ships will last.”
“Then we’ll just hold them off as long as we can,” said the princess. She turned to Rex. “Mr. Nihilo, given your exceptional service to the Frente and the ill-timed defection of General Issimo, I hereby put you in charge of our defenses.”
“Erm,” said Rex. “How much does something like that pay?”
“General Nihilo,” said the princess solemnly, “protect the repulsion barrier propagators at all costs!”
Rex seemed uncertain how to react to this dubious honor. He’s never been one to stand and fight at great risk of bodily harm when fleeing was an option.
“Sir,” I said, “as much as I hate to say it, I think you taking over the leadership of the Frente’s defenses may be our best chance of getting out of here alive.”
Rex nodded glumly, apparently coming to the same conclusion. We had seen the Frente’s best and brightest in action, and I didn’t think either of us wanted to depend for our survival on an officer culled from the rebellion’s second string.
“All right,” said Rex. “Sasha, sound the alarm. I want everybody with a lazegun out there defending the repulsion thingies.”
Not knowing how else to rouse the troops, I ran through the car park yelling and whistling as loudly as I could, telling the men to get outside and defend the repulsion barrier propagators. At first there was a fair amount of resistance; I didn’t think anyone knew what to make of a robot with a severely damaged face running around screaming about a Malarchian attack. As the explosions neared, though, the rebels started to get the idea. They grabbed their lazeguns and headed outside. Some of them hadn’t been out of the base for days or even weeks (there wasn’t much to do on the forest moon but drink and play cards) and once outside they mostly stood blinking in the sunlight, transfixed by the occasional explosion of a Malarchian battleship overhead. A few of them even stretched out on some of the dryer patches of ground and started critiquing the show.
“Defend the repulsion barrier propagators!” I screamed, running around the building waving my arms in the air.
“Shhh!” hissed one of the men. “We’re trying to watch this.”
“Ooh!” exclaimed another as a Malarchian destroyer erupted in flames overhead. “I felt the heat from that one!”
I thought I had them almost convinced that the Malarchian attack wasn’t happening purely for their entertainment when the Frente’s lazecannons started firing and the base’s PA system started blaring Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon. I stood by helplessly as Malarchian ships landed in the distance.
Rex came up next to me, holding a martini. “How’s the defense of the repulsion thingies going?” he asked.
“Where have you been?” I cried. “This is hopeless. These men have no discipline at all. The repulsion barrier propagators are completely undefended!”
“I see,” said Rex, taking a sip of his martini. “Out of curiosity, what does a repulsion . . .”
“Repulsion barrier propagator,” I said.
“Yeah, what do those things look like?”
“See those four antenna-like things?” I said, pointing at the structures fifty meters or so from each corner of the car park. “If the marines blow up any one of those things, we’re all dead.”
“Got it,” said Rex. “Can you patch me into the PA?”
I set the frequency on Rex’s comm unit and handed it back to him.
“Brave rebels of the Frente!” exclaimed Rex. “My name is Rex Nihilo. I’m your new commander. Now get your asses over to those antenna thingies and shoot anybody wearing a Malarchian uniform.”
The men stood grumbling and looking uncertainly at Rex. I noticed that Rex was wearing a bulky overcoat he hadn’t had on before.
“Who’s gonna make us?” growled one of the men at Rex.
“Me,” said Rex and pulled a lazegun from his coat. “Don’t worry,” he whispered to me. “It’s set to stun.” He shot the man in the face. The man screamed and fell to the ground. Smoke billowed from his blackened scalp.
“Those guns don’t have a stun setting,” I said.
“Oh,” said Rex, inspecting the weapon. “It says ‘scorch.’ Whoops. Anyway, it gets the point across.”
“He shot Larry!” another rebel shouted. “Frag him!”
Larry rolled on the ground, still screaming.
“Let’s not get any ideas,” said Rex, sloughing off his coat. Underneath he wore a vest that appeared to be packed with explosives. “Don’t worry,” he whispered to me. “It’s just sand. I think.” Over the PA, he said, “Anybody shoots me, we’re all dead. Which, by the way, is also what’s going to happen if you don’t GET YOUR ASSES OVER TO THOSE ANTENNA THINGIES!” He waved the lazegun wildly, firing in the air. Overhead, a Malarchian battleship exploded, punctuating his command. The men ran to the four structures. I helped Larry to the medical ward inside.
It took a few minutes longer to get the men more or less evenly distributed between the four propagators and pointing their lazeguns in the directions from which the marines were likely to approach. It turned out that there was no rush. The Malarchians were attacking with their most deadly, unstoppable, and excruciatingly slow armored vehicles: the Totally Reliable Terrain Liberators. TRTLs were completely covered with impenetrable armor; their only known weakness was their inability to move faster than half a kilometer per hour. At the rate the Malarchian ships were exploding overhead, the battle might be over before the TRTLs got within firing range of the repulsion barrier propagators. There appeared to be one TRTL heading toward each of them.
Rex and I stood watching one of the TRTLs approach. A lazecannon beam sizzled overhead and shortly thereafter a Malarchian destroyer exploded. The two events were probably unrelated; I hadn’t actually seen one of our lazecannon beams hit anything since the battle started. Debris rained down on the invisible repulsion barrier above us.
“Should have just let the guys watch the fireworks,” mused Rex. “It’s not like they’re going to be able to do anything against those TRTLs anyway. If they ever get here, that is.”
I was busy watching the skies overhead, trying to determine how many Malarchian ships were still intact. A few transport ships carrying TRTLs had landed, but most of what remained of the fleet hovered low in the atmosphere, waiting for the repulsion barrier to fall. I counted twelve ships that hadn’t yet self-destructed. If any of them remained in the sky after the barrier fell, it would be a simple matter for them to blast the Frente’s paltry lazecannon battery to pieces and then destroy the ships parked on the roof. Once our defenses had been nullified and our escape route cut off, Vlaak’s marines could wipe us out at their leisure.
I turned back to the horizon. The TRTL we had been monitoring had crept almost imperceptibly closer. Another ship exploded overhead.
“I’m going to take a nap,” Rex announced. “Wake me up when those things are close enough to shell.”
“We don’t have any mortars, sir,” I said.
“What’s a mortar?”
“Never mind, sir. Have a nice nap.”
While Rex dozed, four more ships exploded and the rebels got in some pretty good target practice burning their initials into the TRTLs with their lazeguns. When one of them managed to write VLAAK SUX BALLZ on the forehead of one of the TRTLs, I woke Rex up.
“They’re getting pretty close,” I said, leading him back out to the repulsion barrier propagato
r.
“How close?” Rex asked.
I pointed at the nearest TRTL, which was now less than fifty meters away.
“Heh,” Rex said, reading its forehead. “The spelling is atrocious, but I admire the sentiment. Not to mention the marksmanship.”
“That’s Sergeant Ricketts’ work, I think,” I told him. “He’s the best marksman we have, now that he’s not wearing a Malarchian marine uniform anymore. But we’ve barely scratched the surface of that armor, and they’re going to overrun our position within the next, oh, twenty minutes or so. And there are still seven ships overhead.”
“Are we sure the TRTLs have no weak points?”
“None that I know of, sir. Every centimeter of their exterior is armored.”
“What about the underside?”
“I believe it’s armored too,” I said. “Although it might not be as thick there as on top.”
“It’s worth a shot,” said Rex. “Where’s my vest?”
“Your vest, sir?”
“You know, my suicide vest.”
“I thought you said it was full of sand.”
“Nope,” said Rex. “Turns out that was my other vest.”
“Your other . . . ?”
“No time to explain. I think I left it in our room. Go get it, would you? Make sure you get the right one.”
“Yes, sir.”
I ran downstairs to get the vest and brought it to Rex. The vest was surprisingly heavy. The TRTL had moved a few meters closer.
“OK,” Rex said. “Now put it on.”
“Sir? I’d really rather not . . .”
“Don’t worry, Sasha. I’ll have the men hold their fire while you approach the TRTL. Get as close as you can and then drop the vest and run back here. I’ve got a remote detonator.”
“Sir, I really don’t think you’ve got enough explosives here to take out a TRTL.”
“You’re saying you want to carry more explosives?”
“No, sir.”
“All right, then, put on the vest.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Men,” Rex hollered, “Sasha here has bravely volunteered to run into the path of the TRTL in an attempt to breach its soft underbelly with explosives. Kindly hold your fire so as to avoid premature detonation.”
Starship Grifters (A Rex Nihilo Adventure) Page 20
