Trial by Ice (A Star Too Far Book 1)

by Casey Calouette

  William blinked and felt the cables dragging over him. The tank was moving backwards with the carbon rod still stuck in the side. The tank pivoted slightly to correct the course and crushed his left hand. The entire forty ton form bore down for just a single section of track. He thrashed against it like a caught animal and clutched the mangled meat with a howl.

  The cables were still moving.

  He stood with the destroyed hand tucked against his sternum and raged forward. He pushed with his chest against the carbon rod and squeezed the electrode trigger with his right hand. It buzzed and sizzled and started sinking deeper. He walked step by step as the tip seemed to barely sink in. The slight pivot had covered him from the APC.

  The rod wailed and hissed as a jet of acrid oily steam exploded against William. He was blasted under the shelter of an entryway. His chest was a quilt work of crushing pain and burning. Motes of light danced on the edges of his vision as he sat himself up. The tank before him was stopped.

  It wiggled slightly as the APC in front rammed itself against it, but made no progress. Farther up the column the trapped armor pivoted and tested the walls. Shells hammered into the concrete, trying to make an opening to exploit. Rounds that are designed to devastate tanks a few kilometers away did nothing but punch clean holes.

  William felt the light ebbing from his vision as a rough hand grasped him from behind and dragged. He curled his hand against his chest and wished more than anything that the pain would stop. He was pulled over broken stone, sharded steel, and the wreckage of what had once stood. He lost consciousness as the rain began to fall.

  * * *

  The orbital battery wasn’t even over the horizon when it powered up the acceleration coils. The charge was gently primed. The body of the coal black craft turned slightly and dropped its nose by just a fraction. Straight below it was a sea of blue and green. A moment later it energized the charge and sent it over the horizon.

  The charge burned with an intense heat before discarding a ceramic-alloy heat shield. It bore down on the target point. Below it flashed serene fields of emerald green. The target was still over the horizon.

  In a silent display of chaos it erupted from the sky onto the target. It had broken into a cluster of thermo-kinetic warheads. What had once been pillars of sore concrete and roofs of blackened alloy was now nothing but the shreds of dust.

  The concussive blast followed as it shuddered down to bedrock and echoed through the stone. The sonic boom came a split second after and blasted the young dust cloud into shreds of silt. No one saw the empty husk reenter the atmosphere in the briefest blink of light.

  The sound of horses stamping and chomping startled William awake. He’d heard those horses once before but couldn’t place where. The light burnt his eyes. His mouth was filled with the taste of ash and grit hard against his teeth. His hand throbbed. Every pump of blood tore through his core as he rolled in agony.

  Sebastien was on his knees next to him. He was coated in gray dust like a survivor of Pompeii. Raindrops fell slowly. Each dragged a cluster of dust with it and slowly cleared the air.

  William struggled to his knees and looked around blankly. They were surrounded by destroyed hovels with standing structures not far away. “Sebastien,” he croaked.

  Sebastien turned his head slightly. He tried to rise up from his kneeling position but dropped back down. “You owe me a drink.”

  “I think I can manage that.”

  “Your hand?”

  “Let’s not talk about it.”

  “Well, I know the feeling.”

  William nodded and tried to stand before falling back down again. He wanted to laugh, to try and highlight the absurdity of it all.

  “Hey, uh, we could use a ride,” he clicked through.

  William stared down as the rain washed away the dust from his mangled hand. The mass of crushed meat and bone throbbed violently. He rocked back and forth as he clenched his teeth. He waved to the approaching troops with his good hand and passed out once again.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  On the Needle

  The celebrations were muted after the orbital battery deposited a final payment from up above. Rye liquor and rough meals were feasted and toasted to the heroes who few had met, and none knew. The civilian militia had taken charge and spread out to secure whatever they thought needed securing. The professionals kept watch on the elevator.

  William awoke to a subtle numbness and a cool chill. He recognized the nostalgic decor of the elevator complex. He stood slowly and blinked away the sleep from his eyes. His neck tickled. He reached up his right hand and felt the sheen of a nanite patch. His left hand was strapped to his chest in a tight cloth wrap.

  “William,” Vito said with a smile and a glint in his eyes. “You should lay back down.”

  William shook his head slowly and stifled a yawn. “No, no. More patches?”

  “Peter brought them by. They found them inside the refinery.”

  William nodded. “Sebastien?”

  “Like an Ox, he’s out with Crow.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Getting ready for us to head upstairs.”

  “Oh.” William looked out into the hallway.

  Arrayed around the embarkation area were pallets of weapons, pattern armor, and supplies. Several dozen civilian militia were sitting idly. They looked sober and tense. Leduc sat with Avi against the polished wall, eyes closed, legs sprawled out before them.

  O’Toole stood near the base of the ribbon with a combat shotgun unslung. Around him were scattered boxes, crates, and a vaguely humanoid metallic form. It was slender and lithe of build. Eduardo was hunched over it.

  “What’s that?” William asked.

  Xan spoke from behind a data console. “Eduardo found a Sa’Ami strider in one of the containers. He’s trying to rig it.”

  William felt almost drunk as he stood and took a few steps. His leg felt surprisingly good, though his shoulder was sore. His left hand was like a blank slate, numb and empty.

  “My hand?”

  “Uh,” Vito began and stopped. “It had to come off. I’m sorry, William. David found a doctor to come in…”

  William looked down to the bound arm. The stub was anchored directly over his heart. He didn’t seem to much mind. Was it the nanites? His last conversation with Sebastien came back to mind. Sebastien really was the only one who knew what it was like. William felt a slight sense of emptiness as he continued into the hallway. “Did the corvette break orbit?”

  Vito shook his head. “Still there.”

  William shook his head. It didn’t make sense, the corvette had no reason to remain. As far as he could tell, they were firmly in control of the planet.

  “They’re going to sign the Covenant,” Vito said with a proud smile.

  William nodded, not entirely paying attention. He understood this was a triumph for Vito, but he kept focusing on his hand. His fingers tingled, or at least the nerves did. It itched in a place where there was nothing. “Excellent, Vito.”

  “They wanted to do a ceremony, but, well, I felt this was better.”

  “What was better?” William asked, as he was led out of the embarkation area.

  Before him were a dozen men and women with David towering over the lot. They tried to look dignified but the veneer of grit and sorrow was tough to breach. They strained to stand upright and none seemed comfortable in the presence of the others.

  Vito whispered as he grasped William’s good elbow. “I know it’s abrupt, but we needed something, something before we’re gone.”

  William felt warm as the group faced him. He greeted them with a tired smile. This was not what he wanted to be doing. He gave Vito a sharp look and approached the group.

  “Midshipman Grace, this is a historic day. The deeds of this day shall be immortalized,” David said in a smooth tone. His eyes looked tired and his shoulders hunched.

  “Midshipman,” a woman with streaked gray hair said. “How many troops
will you be leaving for our defense?”

  “Mr. Grace,” a gravelly voiced man brought himself to the forefront. “What taxes will be levied?”

  “William,” a younger woman said as she edged past David. “My family would like to secure rights to the export of wool.”

  “Marjorie! I see you still have no class,” David said.

  The room felt pregnant with tension and restrained hostility. William realized that these weren’t professional politicians, but farmers, herders, craftsmen, all about to be hurled into an alliance with something that was nothing but an abstract concept.

  “Vito can speak of the broader details, but all agreements beyond the Covenant will be handled by the delegate,” William said to the group.

  “Where are they?” Marjorie asked.

  “Buried in the snow.” William turned and walked back to the troops. The sounds of squabbling followed behind as Vito did his best to placate the group.

  * * *

  William felt lost as he stood at the base of the elevator and looked up. The ribbon disappeared into puffy white clouds like an endless black road. He waited for Sebastien.

  The climbers were at ground level. Inside were stacked containers of rock and gravel along with alloy plates. Cases of shotguns were stacked near the entrance. The weapon of choice was a shotgun with low velocity shells that split plastic flechettes.

  The flechette was an unfortunate necessity. A standard nanite bullet would breach the hull or destroy critical subsystems. The flechette, however, would bounce off hull walls. When in flesh, it would quiver and dance until it ran out of kinetic energy. The tips were grafted with a polycrystalline diamond coating. This allowed it to have some chance against armor, though it relied more on volume than on penetration.

  Sebastien returned and appraised William with a knowing glance. “I’m surprised to see you up.”

  “I’d say the same about you.”

  Sebastien nodded with a slight smile. He ran his hand over his stubbly beard. “The tanks were unmanned.”

  “Unmanned? No crew at all?”

  “No bodies, hard to tell much more beyond that.”

  “Controlled by the ship up above?”

  Sebastien shrugged. “Maybe, but it doesn’t explain why they haven’t left yet.”

  “How long ‘til we go up?” William asked. His heart fluttered with excitement at the thought of being back in orbit.

  “Not long, as soon as Crow comes back from the mines, we suit up and roll.”

  William nodded. “What’s at the mine?”

  “You’ll have to ask him.”

  * * *

  William ate a meager meal of rye porridge mixed with shaved mutton. He couldn’t get past the tallowy texture.

  Sebastien and Selim instructed the militia on how to assault a spacecraft. Use the cover, secure the breach, work in sections. It sounded so simple, so mechanical. The militia had a look of intense concentration fused with confusion.

  Crow jogged into the room with Peter close behind. He gave a quick nod to Sebastien and strolled over to William. “How are you feeling?”

  William shrugged. “Well enough. You look excited, what’s up?”

  Sebastien walked up with Selim and all eyes focused on Crow.

  Crow took a deep breath and nodded his head to the south. “The mines, big cuts right? They’re taking the refined ores from the refinery here and putting them back into the mines.”

  William shook his head. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “There’s no refined ingots here, nothing. The cargo loaders have been moving stuff down, not up.” Crow pointed to the elevator cars. “They’ve got the ability to move big stuff up, so why don’t they?”

  Blank looks responded to the query.

  William wracked his mind. “This isn’t a rogue mining operation, is it?”

  “There was an additive manufacturing cell there, it was working on assembling tanks, armor panels, struts,” Crow said in a low voice.

  William was caught in silence. This planet was far away from Hun and Sa’Ami space. “If they operated here, they’d have an isolated structure to harass from, but they’d be cut off.”

  Crow shrugged. “It’s what we saw, I don’t know why, but we need to get this information back soon. They’ve got enough materials stockpiled to make one hell of a resupply base.”

  All of the men stood and absorbed the news. Currently the UC held the advantage in the cold war, but if a second front was opened, who knew what would happen. William pictured the spheres of influence, the UC as a giant sphere with the Sa’Ami and Hun on the far edge. Too far to ever make real use of the base on Redmond.

  “It’d take them months upon months, this is a damned long voyage from Sa’Ami space, even longer from Hun. We could intercept ‘em throughout the route.” William shook his head.

  “Got me, I’m just a grunt.” Crow shrugged. “But we need that ship.”

  William nodded and let the information digest. There were few naval assets on this edge to counter an invasion. The United Colonies would be caught in the middle. Whatever the people on this planet had endured so far would be nothing compared to when the Hun or Sa’Ami took possession. The attackers would have to pass through Gracelle and then K126 space, they’d never make it without the UC noticing. He knotted his brow and put the question behind him. No use getting worked up about something he couldn’t do anything about.

  * * *

  The assault teams spread into two groups on either side of the ribbon. The professionals stood in clusters of their own. The strider laid on the ground heaped with wires and plating. It was silent but held a certain aura of restrained violence.

  William tore a notch in the bandages and stuffed in his pistol holster. He couldn’t quite get it to stay in place without popping out when he drew the weapon.

  “What are you doing?” Sebastien asked.

  “Getting ready,” William replied. He tucked in the holster once more and wedged it sideways.

  “Negative. You’re not coming up ‘til it’s clear.” Sebastien swept an arm towards the two groups. “They’re in full body armor, with shotguns, and they’ve got two arms. What are you going to do?”

  William seethed but knew Sebastien was right. “Take the pistol, to hell with the armor, and give me a shotgun.” He stalked over to a case of the weapons and drew out a stubby weapon. It was heavy in his hand. “Eduardo! Get me a saw.”

  “Hmm, si, over there,” Eduardo said.

  “You’re not coming. What the hell are you doing?” Sebastien asked as he followed.

  William dropped the shotgun onto a plastic case and stepped on it with his good leg. He grasped the powered saw and plunged the reciprocating blade into the stock of the weapon. In a short moment the butt had dropped off. He kicked it so that it spun around and he did the same to the barrel.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Sebastien said.

  William hefted the ragged edge of the shotgun into his hand. It was unbalanced, rough, probably shot crooked, but it was a weapon. “How about I stay in the elevator until you clear the entry. You’re going to need someone who knows a Naval vessel.”

  “I’ve got Tero, he’s a ship’s engineer.”

  “You need a command officer, someone with bridge experience.”

  “Like hell, you’re a Midshipman.”

  “And how many starships have you flown?”

  Sebastien glared back. “You stay in the climber until we get to the ship. If I see anyone helping you, I toss your ass back into the climber. Got it?”

  William nodded. “Got it.”

  * * *

  The climbers were loaded with the eager, the foolhardy, and the desperate. They crammed behind the crates and the alloy plates and relaxed.

  The strider hopped awkwardly near the door as Eduardo cursed and swore behind it. The slender limbs jerked and wavered. It slowly walked forward and half collapsed, half fell, into the side of the climber. Everyone edged away a
s it jerked its head and had what appeared to be a mild seizure.

  Eduardo walked on behind it with a small black toolbag. “How long have I got to fix this pile of shit?”

  “Forty-seven minutes,” Crow replied.

  Eduardo nodded and squatted next to it. He opened a carbon panel and began digging in. O’Toole sat near the back of the strider and connected a small tablet.

  A few troops remained on the ground. Von Hess was cradled in the cloth chair as he communicated with Eduardo in a rapid banter. Beside him sat Tik and Xan. Militia, civilians, and the occasional child clustered into the control room and watched.

  The doors slid shut against heavy alloy bumpers and sealed with a dull boom of pressurized air. The climber clanged for a moment and began the steady rise upwards.

  The city came into view as a ragged mess of rubble, smoke, and the construction of desperation. Beyond it the farms and pastures winked emerald before giving way to the haze and low clouds. Everything disappeared. Only a featureless haze blustered outside the window.

  William stretched his good arm and patted the ragged butt of the shotgun that was tucked into a bandage tied as a belt. The steel taste came back into his mouth. Finally, back into space.

  He could sense the nervousness in the militia around him. Some laughed and stomped and shifted. Most stood silently and stared at nothing. One man sat down and sobbed.

  The climber broke through the low cloud cover in an eruption of light. Below them stretched a quilt of fluffy white with a breakthrough of bright green. The curvature of the planet blended into high clouds. They were gaining altitude and fast.

  The floor pushed harder against William’s feet as the rate of acceleration continued. His knees grew sore as he shifted his weight.

  “The air is thinner, we can go a helluva lot faster,” Aleksandr said to a civilian.

  William settled in and squeezed his toes tight against his boots. The smell of the elevator hit him as the fear grew.