Bundin activated his jetpack and sailed toward the hatch. Joseph hurried after him. Kim surveyed the ship around her before joining the others. Auburn watched it all happen. He was a passenger until he could stand on his own feet. He hoped that would be soon, and without alerting the locals.
***
Terry squinted as he tried to see the others, but they were lost in the darkness. “Might as well be invisible,” he said.
Ted had turned around and was trying to look at the ship they approached. The two-thousand-foot-long monstrosity loomed before them. Turrets suggested a close-in-defense system.
“Is this a carrier?” Ted asked.
Char jetted ahead, turned, and slowed. She faced the ship and looked on it as the enemy, her purple eyes cold, like the darkness that enveloped them. Terry eased close beside her.
“What do you see?” he asked. Ted leaned back and forth.
“Closer.” Ted pointed toward a nondescript area of the ship.
Char shrugged, her armored suit interpreting the movement as a shoulder twitch. Cory watched the three people she was with and ignored the ship behind her. She didn’t care about the ship or who was inside.
Dealing with the enemy had never been her thing.
She reached out a hand, delicately contained within the shipsuit’s fabric. She ran one finger down the metal construct of the armor that surrounded her mother’s head.
Char glanced at the hand, but her focus was on the ship getting bigger as they floated through open space. Terry whisked away, heading toward where Ted had pointed. Char ensured she had a tight grip on her daughter before activating her jets.
***
Marcie held on to Sergeant Fitzroy, the recently promoted platoon sergeant. She was taking him under her wing while Kimber was mentoring an older corporal, but not on this mission. The corporal had been left behind in charge of the platoon in case the ship needed them to repel boarders or conduct a follow-on assault.
Contingency on top of contingency. Terry Henry had had to prepare for them all. He planned for flexibility, but without the mechs, the platoon was constrained to operating within a breathable atmosphere. The shipsuits were not designed for combat. One ricochet from a projectile would punch a hole and no matter how enhanced the occupant, they would eventually die without air.
Kelly carried Praeter and remained behind Marcie and Fitzroy. Their target was one of the smaller ships, a destroyer, a tin can, Terry had called it during the briefing. Their mission was to create a diversion. They didn’t have the means of hacking into the ship’s systems, so they brought a large quantity of explosives.
Same with Kae’s team. Unless the aliens surrendered, those two ships were dead.
Marcie turned and activated her jets to slow their approach. Nothing happened.
“Activate the jets!” she yelled within the suit. Nothing happened.
“Hang on,” she told Fitzroy. He clenched his jaw and pinched his eyes shut. Marcie braced him within the mech’s arms as best she could.
Kelly grabbed Marcie’s arm and ran her jets to the maximum. They slowed, but didn’t stop. The four warriors slammed into the ship’s hull like railgun projectiles.
“Ohh, that hurt,” Fitzroy said as he lay on the ship’s deck. Artificial gravity within was enough to hold him in place. Marcie’s armored legs absorbed the impact for her and she remained crouched. Her boots had dented the ship’s surface by almost a finger-length. Kelly had held onto Praeter, who was wincing and stretching his back.
“Thanks for your help,” Marcie said, nodding to the other mech. “I’d be really surprised if they didn’t know we were here. I expect a repair bot sometime soon, so I think we better move. Maybe they’ll decide it was an asteroid.”
Kelly looked at the boot-prints in the hull. “Or not.” She started walking across the surface toward an area filled with non-geometric shapes. She thought it would be like hiding in a warehouse, and she had no better plan.
Marcie picked up Fitzroy. He yelled into his bubble-helmet, but she couldn’t hear him. He’d turned off his comm system. She wondered what was broken, but not for long, because he would heal. The nanocytes in his blood were already at work putting his bones back in place. More importantly than his pain, she had to find cover. Marcie hurried after Kelly, casting glances over her shoulder and toward the stars, looking for any movement of an inbound bot or worse, an alien fighter.
***
Christina blew out a long breath. Unlike the others, she carried Aaron like a backpack. He was draped over her, holding on to the rocket mounts with his legs wrapped around her waist. It gave her the freedom to drive the suit as she needed. In space, one didn’t need to be aerodynamic.
Aaron was too tall to fit inside the armor. It was congenial for shorter warriors, but unforgiving beyond a certain height. Kaeden had ordered a custom suit for Aaron, but that was in the backlog, just like the rest of the Bad Company’s suits.
Yanmei drove the other mech. She carried Ankh’Po’Turn like a baby, cradled in her arms. He swiveled his head, more than a human could, to look around. His usual stoic expression was gone as the infinity of the universe weighed on him. He wasn’t used to being anyplace that was uncomfortable; he wasn’t used to being on the front lines; and he would never get used to being outside the War Axe wearing only a shipsuit.
His small hands hurt from gripping Yanmei’s armor so tightly.
“Stay frosty, little man,” Christina said, nodding toward Ankh. “You need to get us aboard without anyone noticing. Then, we’ll punch into the heart of that pig and you work your magic.”
Ankh turned his head and looked back into Christina’s yellow eyes. He never doubted she was serious.
“I will do my job,” he replied noncommittally.
“We know you will, Ankh,” Aaron said soothingly.
Christina smiled. An alien and the two weretigers. She couldn’t wait to get aboard and show the enemy how weak they were. Whether through stealth or violent action, she would not fail in her mission.
She growled as they approached the massive ship. “What are those doors for?” Aaron asked.
“Those look like hangar bay doors. Lots of hangar bay doors,” Ankh whispered.
They drifted in. It went against her nature to hold back, but her training and study of the Force de Guerre and Terry Henry Walton’s tactics showed her his reliance on Sun Tzu. Winning a battle without fighting…
That concept stuck in her mind. If they could cripple the ship by taking the computer that drove it, then she would win. Stealth was her best weapon.
As they drifted closer, a light flashed above one of the doors. It rolled up, exposing a hangar with multiple small ships.
Christina and Yanmei touched down gently above the door. They crouched together on the alien ship’s hull and waited, helplessly exposed.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The War Axe
Captain San Marino put the War Axe into a holding position between the fleet of cargo ships and the blockade.
One more cargo ship had departed and none had arrived since Micky last checked. He massaged his temples as he kept his eyes on the main screen.
“Smedley, anything from the alien fleet that might indicate our people have been discovered?”
“There are no indicators. The situation remains status quo. What do you think we would see?” Smedley replied.
“The ships starting to run, or an explosion, or the jammer dropping. Stuff like that.”
“There has been no stuff like that.”
“Have faith, Skipper,” Clifton declared over his shoulder, being one of many who adopted Terry Henry’s nickname for the captain. “I think Colonel Walton and his people will deliver fireworks that will let everyone know that you don’t fuck with us.”
“Clifton! Language.” The captain started to wonder who had more influence on his people.
“Oh, shit. Sorry,” Clifton muttered, turning back to his controls to calculate a variety of flight profiles
for an attack on the blockade.
Just in case.
K’Thrall was doing the same thing, conducting weapon simulations.
“Commander Mac, if the gravitic shields go down again, do you have what you need to get them back up?” Micky asked through the comm system.
“Not in the least,” Mac replied. “If our shields go down, we have to run for it before they hit us again.”
“Didn’t Ted tell you how to fix it?”
“He fixed it with Plato, and he’s got Plato with him. And Ted didn’t tell me anything. I have no idea why they went down or what it took to bring them back up,” Mac admitted.
“I guess I knew that. It looks like our eggs are in one basket. Starspeed, Terry Henry Walton,” the captain intoned.
Alien Ship of the Line #1
Terry rotated and slowed to a perfect two-point landing on the hull. He pushed Ted toward the ship and was relieved to find that he was able to stand without floating away.
“They have artificial gravity technology,” Terry said.
Ted ignored him. He didn’t have time for stating the obvious. He kneeled beside a panel to one side of the round hatch, studying the interface for a moment before pulling a handle below it. The group watched expectantly, disappointed when nothing immediately happened. Ted placed his gloved hand on the structure between the pad and the hatch. He nodded slowly.
Terry took a deep breath, stopping the instant the hatch started to retract sideways, rolling into a space between the external hull and the interior framework. The ship was double-hulled, a standard practice for Earth’s surface fleets to increase survivability.
“Some lessons are universal,” Terry said as he climbed into a large airlock. Ted pulled himself inside and Char pushed Cory ahead before bringing up the rear. Once inside, Ted tapped at the panel beside the hatch that led inside the ship.
“Green and red?” Terry whispered as he looked at the panel. The symbols on it showed everything. He did not have to understand the alien’s language.
As TH liked to say, it was idiot simple. The interior hatch contained a porthole-sized window through which Terry glanced. Beyond was a standard corridor, empty. Terry grinned behind his suit’s helmet. When the hatch opened, he found that he was barely able to squeeze through after Ted who took a sharp right and started to run.
“Ted, get the fuck back here!” Terry tried to tiptoe down the corridor, but the mech wasn’t built for silence.
Char hesitated, torn between getting out of the mech and going after Terry and Ted. Cory bolted from the airlock to follow the other two. Char didn’t want to lose them, so she squeezed into the corridor and crouched as she ran after the others.
The two mechs pounded the deck like a pile driver being run by a steamroller.
Terry caught up to Ted and grabbed his collar. Ted struggled, but Terry was having none of it. He locked the grip and picked him up. TH stalked to a side hatch. He stopped and listened, using his suit’s enhanced capabilities. When he heard nothing, he opened the hatch and shoved Ted through. He crawled into the storage space behind him. Cory entered, then Char moved in and shut the hatch behind her.
The colonel moved to the side, locked his suit down, and climbed out the back. He took a deep breath of the ship’s air, knowing that the suit had declared it to be normal air, slightly higher in oxygen than what they were used to.
“Ted, goddammit! Where in the fuck were you going? You put this whole mission at risk making us run down the corridor in our suits.” Terry clenched his teeth. A vein stood out on his forehead. He reached out and grabbed Ted, picking him up and then slamming his feet back into the deck. Terry breathed out heavily before letting go of the werewolf.
“Plato sensed the power of their AI. We must go there,” Ted declared as he pulled his hood back. His gloves retracted automatically into the shipsuit’s sleeves. Ted watched the suit transform itself back into normal attire, fascinated by the utility.
“We go together, and it’ll be best if we don’t announce that we’re here. Let’s give it a few minutes before we strike out again.”
Char moved to the side of the hatch, parked her suit, and got out. She shook her head, sending her hair cascading over her shoulders. Terry watched, distracted for a moment.
Cory removed her hood and without thinking, brushed her hair to cover her wolf ears. She held her breath for an inordinate amount of time before taking in the ship’s air.
“The air’s fine,” Char offered.
“I don’t know. Something doesn’t seem right about this place.”
“You got that right. What’s wrong is that it feels like the War Axe, a human ship, not just a ship with some stolen human technology,” Terry suggested.
Char looked to the round activator in the center of the hatch. “This looks like it’s from a United States warship.” Char pointed. She spun the wheel and dogged the hatch.
“We need to get to the ship’s AI,” Ted declared. He held the black box containing Plato.
“I can’t believe you brought your AI.” Char shook her head before closing her eyes to explore the Etheric, find where the warm bodies were as well as get insight into the ship’s layout.
“There are few people on board, and no one in this area,” she said, rolling her monologue as she followed the other dimension through the ship. “This is a carrier, with fighters and transport ships, although I think the ships are all flown by computers. There doesn’t seem to be a place for an entity, human or otherwise. Wait! Here comes four people, human or human hybrid. They’re heading for the airlock.
“They’ve reached the airlock. There is some confusion. They are looking at the deck. Now they’re coming back this way.”
Terry growled, rolling his shoulders and checking the Jean Dukes Special that had been wedged against his side while he was in the suit. He rocked slightly as he prepared for the expected fight. “On my order, pull the hatch open if they cycle the action,” Terry told Cory. He stood to the side where it would open. Char put a hand on his shoulder and leaned in behind him.
Ted pushed Plato into Cory’s hands before pulling his shipsuit off and changing into a werewolf. He stood on all fours behind Terry and Char. Together, they waited as the four crew of the enemy ship approached, stopped at the hatch, and reached for the wheel.
Alien Ship of the Line #2
Two small fighter spacecraft maneuvered from the opening before accelerating into the darkness. The door started to roll back down.
“Is that our way in?” Christina asked. Without waiting for an answer, she leapt over the edge and used her suit’s jets to angle down the side. She peeked into the bay, looking for any living creatures. Her recce of the hangar bay said it was empty.
Yanmei followed her down, staying on the side away from the door.
With a nod and a wave, the two suited warriors walked through the door and dove to the side, depositing their passengers as they stood still and waited. Their suits gave them an enhanced view of the hangar bay, better than what their own Were eyes provided.
There were no more spacecraft within. The bay was large enough to hold two fighters and the support equipment for them.
When the door closed all the way, the lights within the hangar extinguished, leaving Christina and her team completely in the dark.
“Got any ideas?” Aaron asked. Christina and Yanmei both shook their heads, but no one saw.
“I think we should turn on the lights and go find what we’re here to find,” Ankh said flatly.
As Christina was looking to turn on the suit’s exterior lights, a hatch opened to the hangar bay and a person walked through. The lights came up to a twilight level. The individual walked halfway across the bay, picked up a toolbox, turned, and walked back to the hatch, closing it behind him. The lights dimmed and then extinguished.
“Sure looked like a human,” Yanmei whispered.
“Does that change anything?” Christina asked.
No, Aaron answered using his comm
chip. It means that we know how evil they can be without having to guess. The worst creatures in the universe are human, as are the best. Figuring out where this group stands will determine if we have to destroy it or not. Maybe we can talk the crew out of the blockade.
Interesting, Christina replied. The suit says we have an oxygen-nitrogen atmosphere. Let’s park them out of sight and go take a look-see.
Christina turned on her suit’s lights, high beams from each shoulder that illuminated what was in front of her. She turned slowly from one side to the other.
Yanmei activated her lights. Farther to her right was an area with crates and boxes. She headed that way with Ankh in tow. She clambered behind a pile, shut down her suit, and climbed out. Christina watched, providing cover as Yanmei transitioned.
The weretiger pulled the oversized railgun from the mech suit’s shoulder and hoisted it in her arms. Ankh moved from behind the crates and walked toward the hatch still illuminated by Christina’s suit.
She waited until the Crenellian and Aaron were in place beside the door before working her way behind the crates to ditch her powered, armored suit. She followed Yanmei’s lead in taking the large railgun as her personal weapon. When she was ready, she powered her suit down, plunging the small hangar bay back into darkness.
Clearing the crates by touch alone, she squinted in the direction of the door, letting her yellow Pricolici eyes take in the light. She saw the shapes of her team. She walked boldly across the open area, tripping over a tie-down point as she walked. She heard Aaron snicker.
“Yeah, yeah, I get it. When I’m sitting in the captain’s chair of this pig, you’ll be down here removing that tripping hazard.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Aaron mumbled. Christina joined them at the hatch.
“I don’t hear anything from the other side,” Yanmei offered.
Christina listened, then whispered, “When that guy opened the hatch, did anyone see what was beyond?”
“A nondescript corridor,” Aaron said. “That’s all I saw.”
Blockade Page 9
