An alarm clanged. A buzzing sensation passed through William’s legs and the acceleration dropped in intensity.
“The field shifted, one G for us, another to slow the car,” Aleksandr said as he hopped and stretched. “It used to be topsy-turny time and a bit of freefall, now the Gracelle fields shift it all. Took the thrill out of it.”
William wasn’t sure about a thrill. The feeling of two different accelerations made his stomach queasy as the field shifted and pulsed. How much longer? They must almost be there. He looked to Sebastien who rested back against the alloy barrier and had his eyes closed. Was he sleeping?
Crow clicked through onto the comms. “Two minutes, safeties off, time to wake up.”
Sebastien blinked his eyes open and stifled a yawn. William wondered how anyone could sleep. Though he knew if he had much more time he’d surely collapse.
“Eduardo, you got that thing working?” Crow asked.
Eduardo shook his head without turning to face him.
“Listen up, once the doors open, the heavies go out and everyone else follows. Push the crates. Stay behind the alloy. Spread out,” Crow said.
Sebastien stood and grasped the handle of an alloy plate. Even he could barely budge it, but he could damn well slide it.
As suddenly as it began, the car stopped and the second field dissipated. William felt the bile rise. The taste of rye flooded through his mouth. His ears popped as the air pressures equalized.
“Ready! Move on my call!” Crow yelled.
The air buzzed with the energy of the men tethered and waiting like a stampede at the gate. The door popped open a fraction of an inch, paused, and slid gracefully away.
The immediate sound of gunfire and the ricocheting of plastic balls careened into the climber. William hissed as a plastic ball struck his chest, but the energy had been lost to a ricochet.
Sebastien grunted and drove the alloy plate forward. Men streamed behind him. As soon as the plate cleared the door, the militia opened fire into everything, everywhere. Flechettes flew in the wide expanse before them.
The space was almost cavernous. What had once been a colony ship was now an orbital platform. Stacked all around were containers and netted dunnage. Some looked old while most looked fresh and new. The defenders were well placed and hidden throughout.
William waited and watched as the troops streamed forward. He could picture the same thing happening directly behind him as the other climber came into position. The concussions of the shotguns in the close quarters made his ears ring. He drew the shotgun from his waist and crouched near the door.
Sebastien had gone ten meters and stopped. He released the alloy plate and pulled out his shotgun. Plastic balls bounced with a dull sound against the decking. A militia man was slammed back and laid in a heap with an egg-shaped divot in his forehead.
Crow sprinted into a heap of netted dunnage. Leduc was on his heels with a pack of militia. The militia fired wildly while the professionals kept the weapon at or near the shoulder and fired with more precision. The defenders slowly pulled back but not without driving up the butcher’s bill.
Men lay, dead or dying, in groups or alone. The armor worked wonders but the kinetic energy contained in the spheres was enough to knock a man to his knees.
William crept out from the climber and joined a group of militia who were spraying flechettes in the direction of a particularly large container. Behind it a fully armored man popped out and sprayed the spheres at them.
A man squirmed at William’s feet with his Adam’s apple pushed into his throat. A deep purple-black bruise was already spreading as the man grasped and flailed at his closed airway. William dropped the shotgun next to the man and squeezed the cartilage back open with an audible crunch. The man sucked air in gasps and wheezes.
Screams came from his right. William picked up the shotgun. A small shape, the size of an armored dog, jumped off the top of a container and ran alongside the next container. Flechettes bounced off of the beast’s armored flanks as it bored down on a group of militia. William watched in horror as it set upon them like a wild animal, thrashing and flaying at men with claws of alloy.
“Smash it!” Selim yelled as he charged forward. He gripped his shotgun like a mallet grasping the short barrel.
The creature turned, hopped, and shifted away before disappearing over the top of a container. Selim tucked himself tightly against the container. Dead men were scattered about his feet. More screams came farther down. He stood and sprinted into the fray.
William poked his head up and tried to squeeze a round off at the armored defender. He slowly squeezed the trigger and found himself lying on his back. He thought for a second that he was shot in the face but realized the recoil of the pistol had flipped the barrel back and it had cracked him on the bridge of his nose. Blood streamed down his mouth.
“Get clear!” Eduardo clicked over the comms.
The Sa’Ami strider erupted from the mouth of the elevator and leaped onto the top of a container. It paused for a moment before prowling down and disappearing into the maze of containers. Screams rose from the other side of the hall.
“Go, go!” Crow yelled as the combined teams spread out and moved forward.
William crouched and ran behind the men before him directly to where the defender was. They turned the corner with weapons drawn and found a corpse with the armor collapsed by a blunt force. They continued forward.
A horrible screech and bang greeted William as he turned the next container. The enemy strider, smaller and bulkier, was squaring off against the larger one. William slid himself around the container and watched as they engaged.
The Sa’Ami strider hopped up and bounded to the side of the dog-like unit. The dog-strider snapped around and delivered a steely caress that sent the Sa’Ami strider off to the side. It skittered on the decking and charged back in.
Flechettes and the plastic balls impacted on both of the striders as they came in together. The speed at which the limbs pumped and slammed was but a blur. The dog-strider slipped loose and pulsed in between the arms of the Sa’Ami strider only to find the legs had flipped up and over. Now the long arms of the Sa’Ami strider were able to keep the dog-strider at bay.
One arm clenched the alloy spine and pinned the thrashing beast as the other arm pulsed against the seams of the body like an unrelenting blacksmiths hammer. The metal seam parted and the dog-strider thrashed wildly until it buckled and was still.
“Move!” Crow yelled.
The combined forces surged ahead with the form of the Sa’Ami strider bouncing into the cover, leaving nothing behind. They found fewer defenders as they moved cautiously towards the rear of the docking station.
They trailed the strider through the now silent docking station. The hatch leading to the boarding tube was open, but hanging askew. The Marines entered first through the zero-g tunnel. The militia waited cautiously with William.
* * *
Avi exited back into the docking station and found William waiting. “C’mon, Mr. Grace! Make a hole!” He shoved the ambling militia away and darted back into the tunnel.
William pushed past the militia and stepped off the orange line marking the end of gravity and propelled himself through the zero gravity. At the opposite end, another orange line was above him that marked the start of ship’s gravity. He tucked, laid his feet out, and made the seamless transition. Except up was now down.
He pushed through the narrow corridors and followed behind Avi who was running ahead. It was narrow, tight, constricting. The air had a scent of spiced cookies with a hint of steamed dinner. The ship was familiar to a point, it was not of human design, but that of the mechanical K742. Glances of consoles told of a Gracelle hand in the design as well. It took everything he had not to stop and check it out.
The corridor opened up into a wider common area with crates and containers secured to the deck above and below. It was common practice to load ships in zero-gravity. No use in letting the ce
ilings go to waste. William edged his way through the tight space and caught up with Avi.
The strider was tucked up into a fetal position at the entrance to the command room. Inside stood Sebastien and Selim. William caught glimpses of other soldiers and Marines sweeping through the ship. An almond-skinned woman in a blue jumpsuit sat on the floor. Behind her laid a dead man with carbon pads on his temples.
“Mr. Grace, this is Captain Melati,” Sebastien said.
William looked down at the woman. She looked upwards with deep brown eyes. “Ma’am, in the name of the United Colonies, I am taking possession of your ship.” The words rolled out of his mouth and he felt surprised saying them.
She winced as he spoke and nodded. “May I collect my husband?”
William looked to Sebastien.
Sebastien pointed to the dead man with carbon pads.
“Sergeant Selim, get a detail here to bring out the body.” William walked past the woman. The bridge was sparse and relatively simple. The K742 design philosophy was simplicity and minimalism. A simple system that would fail in a simple way. Curved screens were dark around him. He sat at the center console and laid a hand on the granite like plate.
Lights flashed and flickered before settling into a steady state. To the right and left appeared system diagnostics with a simple map of the planet and moon. William snapped his head around to the woman. Her eyes smoldered with hatred.
“Sebastien!” he snapped. “Get everyone into this ship now, we’ve got a marauder inbound.” The projected course of the marauder brought it directly to the docking station.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Space
The bridge glowed with a subtle intensity. The illuminated screens gave just the basics about each and every subsystem. Only in the event of failure would they relay more. Information overload had become the greatest threat to the proper operation of a starship.
William sat at the center console and studied the gravity well chart before him. Dimples sat next to puddles which orbited spheres. Slender lines appeared, disappeared, and reformed in a different direction. He concentrated on each route as quickly as he could, slowly dropping everything into a wider view.
“William?” Xan slid into console.
“Oh shit! You scared me.”
Xan smiled and fired up the console. “Well, this is more like it.” His hands danced over the screen. “We’ve got full comms!” He stopped, leaned forward, and tapped the granite. “Oh my. I found our orbital batteries.”
“What?” William turned. “Can you transfer the plot?”
Xan nodded. “Coming right up.”
A series of icons blinked onto the screen above William. Each was in a low orbit, almost to the point of decay. “Have you seen Tero?”
“He’s checking on the Haydn.”
William nodded. “Comms are up, yes? Bound on the table?”
“Bindings are up. Give it a try.”
William tabbed on a dull red icon projected onto the console. “Tero, you getting me?”
“Hey! You chose a good ship to steal!”
“How’s it look down there? I’m showing a standard drive, is it ready to go?”
“As far as I can tell. K743 all the way through, it’s old, but all of their stuff is.”
“Get ready to move, we’re going to embark shortly.”
“What? Already? We just got here.”
William slid his hand across the console once, twice, a third time before scrolling down with his fingertips. A full list of the ship’s provisions was displayed before him. He nodded his head quickly.
William turned to Xan, “Ship wide broadcast open?”
“One second…” Xan tapped a few more buttons.
A white icon appeared on the console. William slapped at it. “All hands to the bridge.”
William sat back and watched as the projected trajectories converged in front of him. He didn’t like any of the choices, but he liked the thought of staying even less. The marauder inbound was a Hun heavy cruiser, large enough to carry a full compliment of troops and designed for harassment.
Sebastien plopped down into an empty chair. His eyes were tired. The others came in and stood silently at the rear.
William turned to face them with the display of the system map behind him. “In about two hours, a Hun marauder is going to dock at this station.” He waited a second as the animation looped once more behind him. “This ship doesn’t have near the firepower to engage it successfully, and it is about a dead match for us in propulsion.”
“So we run right now, Mr. Grace?” Leduc said.
William shook his head. “They’d slam us on the way out of the gravity well. If we power up now, they have the benefit of velocity, they’d catch us quick. We’re going to wait ‘til they slow down to dock and then hit them with a surprise.”
Tired smiles appeared around the room.
William’s eyes glinted as he continued. “So when a ship blinks between gravity wells, they come from one gravity well and head to the next. Notice where this ship is coming from,” William turned and highlighted the trajectory. “It came from nowhere.”
The course the Hun marauder had followed showed it coming from a blank point in space with no gravity wells inline. “Now it could have turned, or shifted in space, but I see no reason why it would. I don’t know how they did it, but we’ve got to get this information back. Find the crew quarters, strap yourselves in, and relax. Before we engage, I’ll let everyone know. Questions?”
“Um, Mr. Grace, what should we do?” Avi asked.
“There’s not much to do. If we get hit to the point that the hull is breached, just stay where you have life support. This ship has a full complement of repulsor shields and a nice coating of nickel ablative armor. We’ll be a tough nut to crack.” William looked around at the men and nodded. “We’ve come this far, let’s get home.”
The soldiers and Marines nodded and streamed off of the bridge.
Sebastien stood like a creaking machine. “Wake me up when we’re clear.”
* * *
Sebastien disliked starships. They were tight, compact, and everything seemed to want to squeeze against everything else. This one was a bit better as it was designed to carry ten times as many as were on it. But it was still tight.
He disliked being useless on a starship. He was now just cargo for the Navy. At the end of every deployment came that initial moment of relaxation followed by the boredom. You could only clean, repair, and exercise so much. Then, he knew, the memories would hit as all those other voyages came back.
He walked through the silent corridors. He opened doors and peered into the darkness until he found a room with a bed. A duffel bag sat on top in a crumpled pile. He swatted it onto the floor. He stripped out of his uniform and lay down.
Diagnostics cascaded down over his closed eyelids. Nothing serious, nothing he hadn’t dealt with before. He still had a few months until the nanite grafts began to run out. Then he’d move like a ninety year-old geriatric.
Sleep wouldn’t come. It was always the same as the adrenaline seeped out. He’d been running on the edge of exhaustion for so long that he couldn’t just relax. This reminded him of his first drop. He sighed and opened his eyes.
“Farshore,” he whispered.
* * *
The Hun marauder decelerated and swept through the orbital plot just as William had expected. He feared that it would change course and cover an exit point. They had to know the ship had been attacked. Xan registered no comms chatter, though that was as telling as a hail.
He took a few minutes to wander from the bridge and opened the door into the Captain’s quarters. The room was dimly lit and covered in bright red cloth. Displays flashed pictures of the woman with the dead man. A necklace of seashells hung near the edge of the bed. They had the one thing he desired, a steam-needle shower.
He stripped down slowly and gently. It took a few tries to remove his jacket with a bandaged stump. He held
the stump outside of the steam jets. The entire time he looked down the length of his arm and stared at nothing.
William gave a quick salute to Avi as he passed onto the bridge. The Marine Private had stationed himself outside the door.
“Oh, well, look at you!” Vito whistled. He wore a set of clean civilian clothes.
William walked back onto the bridge in a clean set of mechanic’s coveralls. He smiled sheepishly and straightened himself up. They were a bit too large for him but he couldn’t manage to get anything else buttoned or zipped. “I’ve dreamed of a shower.” He sat down and stared at the display. No change. Thirty minutes.
William keyed the bindings. “Xan, Tero, Eduardo. To the bridge, please.”
Xan and Tero rushed onto the bridge, both in clean clothes. Eduardo came behind with overalls tied around his waist. He had found a clean uniform and his arms were bared. The tattoos shivered as a setting sun with the shadow of a crucifix. William’s stomach grumbled with hunger.
“I’ve laid the course in. When they approach to secure themselves to the station, we’re going to burn. Once they set a course to follow, I need those batteries to hit ‘em, and hit ‘em in unison.” William turned and highlighted the course. “It’ll take us about an hour to clear the well, the first blink will take us about two AUs out. It’ll be a few more hours to clear that peak, then an eight AU blink. That next burn is going to be a few days.”
“Where are we going?” Vito asked.
“If we head in the most direct line back to UC space, we expose our flank on the way out. So we’re going to head for K space, bounce a few systems, and get back that way.”
“How long?”
“Two months.”
Vito nodded absently and stood. “I better get seated.”
William watched the marauder slide in closer. This was his first time in command of an actual starship. He had spent hundreds of hours in simulators competing against others. This, though, wouldn’t end with a scoreboard.
The only hitch was if the marauder opened fire while they sat on the station. They’d most definitely destroy the docking station and the elevator with it. He wondered what the Captain of the other vessel was thinking—they had to know it was a ruse, but how to proceed?
Trial by Ice (A Star Too Far Book 1) Page 21
