by Cain Hopwood
“Not with us up here. You’re heading is good, and clear of guards. When you get to that… spiky looking ship, stay parallel with the wall. That should bring you up behind the guarded ship. You won’t miss it, it’s the biggest in that area.”
“Copy. Next job for you guys is getting us an exit.”
“Have you looked over your left shoulder?” Gritz said.
Jon did. Down a haphazard row of ships he could see a black rectangle tinged with just a hint of violet.
He stopped to take a closer look. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Why not? These ships have to get out somehow.”
“Sure, but that giant hole must be in the middle of an external wall.”
Gritz gave a lopsided grin. “With all this hardware, I think they’re past medieval siege tactics.”
“That’s not what I meant. Did you notice an entrance like that when you had the redoubt under observation? It would have been the wall facing your post.”
Gritz straightened. “No I didn’t, it must have had some kind of camouflage then.”
“Maybe, but we didn’t see it when we surveyed either.”
“Lieutenants.” Skip’s voice had a note or urgency. “We’ve got guards coming up the stairs. You’d better get moving.”
Jon and Gritz took off.
“New plan,” Jon said between pants.
“New plan?”
“Keep ahead of these new guards.”
“And the guards by the ship?”
“Run at them fast and shoot.”
“My kind of plan.” Gritz hefted his rifle and checked the magazine. “Beats all your sneaking around.”
As they approached the ship Jon slowed down, motioning Gritz to follow. They didn’t want to go into a firefight already fatigued. But they couldn’t really afford to rest, the guards must have discovered the bodies by now. Pursuit wouldn’t be far behind. They also didn’t want to make too much noise. Surprise was one of the few advantages they had.
The ship was up ahead, and it was at least as big as the Aquina, though sleeker and newer. It sat on four large skids, holding it far enough off the ground to walk under comfortably.
They were approaching from its rear, and they could see the back of a large lowered ramp at the front end of the ship.
“Two guards, at the bottom of the ramp, facing away from you. They don’t look alert.”
Jon pointed at the ship, then made the signal for a pincer. Gritz nodded. They’d use the ramp as cover, and with a little luck surprise the hapless guards.
Jon’s surrounding darkened as they stalked under the shadowy belly of the ship. They paused just behind the ramp, then in a coordinated move, Jon darted around one edge, rifle out, while Gritz took the other side.
As luck would have it, both guards turned his way. Jon’s eyes widened, these guards weren’t lumbering white Marbelites but a pair of Ka-Li.
And the Ka-Li were fast. In a blur of motion their flechette carbines snapped up. Jon barely had time to squeeze off one shot, then dived sideways in a roll. His only hope now, was to distract them and give Gritz a clear shot from behind.
His round hit the closest Ka-Li in the chest, where a Marbelite’s brain would have been. The Ka-Li doubled but all the bullet seemed to do was put it off its aim. Which was lucky, because even so one of its flechettes caught Jon in the calf as he went to ground.
He rolled and came up, sighting down his rifle to see the Ka-Li farther back going down in a hail of slugs. The closer Ka-Li spun with an unearthly speed just in time to catch Gritz’s second volley. But it was still staggering, so Jon double tapped it in the back, then put one round in its head as it went down.
“You could have fucking told us they were Ka-Li Levin,” Gritz muttered through gritted teeth.
“Sorry sir, You’ve got more coming.”
“Ka-Li?”
“No. Yogi’s.”
“How long Skip?” Asked Jon.
“Twenty, maybe thirty seconds.”
Gritz’s head snapped left and right. “We need somewhere defensible.”
“We also need to stay on task,” Jon ran up the ramp into the ship. “Come on, in here is better than being out there. You hold them off, I’ll see about doing away with the potential disaster this thing is carrying.”
“I don’t know, this feels like a trap to me.”
“Same, but deal with it.”
Jon stopped and looked around the hold. It was big, but not as big as he expected from the size of the ship. Even so, it wouldn’t have been hard to hold a basketball game in here. Though the roof was a bit low.
It also didn’t take Jon long to identify its cargo. Hundreds of cubes, each emblazoned with the Galactic symbol for fuel.
“Shit.” Said Jon casting his eye over the sea of cubes.
“What?” asked Gritz.
“I was hoping the fuel would be in a tanker, something I could blow, and have it spread everywhere while we get away. But there’s hundreds of individual containers. I don’t even have enough ammo to put a single bullet in each one.”
“Well, come up with something. We’ve got company.”
Behind him, Jon could hear the tinny crack as Gritz picked off any Marbelites stupid enough to sneak a look around the ramp. That would buy them a little time, but it wouldn’t take the Marbelites long to figure that a concerted rush would get them past a lone assailant. From his limited experience of the white furred natives, they weren’t lacking in bravery.
Jon spun, they needed time. “If only we could raise that ramp,” he muttered, and ran to support Gritz. Half way there he heard a grinding noise.
He skidded to a stop next to Gritz, just as the ramp thudded closed. “I was thinking exactly the same thing,” he said.
“What do you mean?”
“You didn’t close the ramp?”
“No, I thought you did.”
Jon double tapped a tooth. “Skip? Murdoch? What did you do?”
But all he got was silence. “We’re cutoff, no network. The ship’s hull must block the signal.”
Gritz waved his gun at the ramp. “We’ll have bigger problems when they open that. Unlike us, they probably know how the controls operate.”
“Maybe, maybe not, at least not until more Ka-Li turn up. We need to know what’s happening outside.” Jon scanned around. On the other side of the ramp a companionway led upward. “That leads forward, probably to the cockpit. Let’s go.”
“You can’t be thinking of trying to fly this thing.”
“Of course not, we wouldn’t get out of the hangar.” Jon held up his last comms relay. “But the cockpit might have a window, and I’m thinking this might be able to get a connection with Skip.”
Jon took two steps towards the passageway, then stumbled as pain shot up his leg. The hit he’d taken outside had finally overcome the combat adrenaline.
“You okay?” Gritz said.
Jon kept going, but slowed down trying not to limp. “I took a flechette to the calf. It’s a through and through, so the under armor’s smart weave should take care of the wound. The pain’s just kicked in though.”
“Did you get a shot of combat-pharm?”
“Not yet, no time. I was going to ask Skip.”
“Let me,” Gritz said. He muttered a command code. A medical glyph flashed in his vision and moments later the pain in his leg faded into the background.
“Thanks.”
Jon wasted no time moving up the passageway. As he suspected, it led forward, and ended in a small triangular room that had to be the ship’s cockpit. Although it wasn’t quite what he expected. There was a single amorphous bean bag like flight seat at the front, two more behind it, then three more traditional seats a little farther back in a row.
But importantly, over the three forward flight seats was a transparent canopy. It was clear from the layout that the frontmost seat was for the pilot. Though it was missing any obvious flight controls.
Jon moved forwa
rd, standing just behind the pilot’s seat. As he approached, it started changing shape. It looked as if it was adapting to accommodate a human form.
“That’s odd,” he said.
Gritz was inspecting the control panels in front of the three rear seats. “What?”
“The front flight seat. It just changed shape.”
“Looks comfy. Can you see anything outside?”
Jon craned his neck to see out the canopy. “Not much, just roof. But Skip should have one of the micro drones operating somewhere up there.”
“Let’s hope this works,” Gritz said.
Jon took the relay, activated its adhesive and stuck it to the inside of the canopy. “There, should be online shortly.”
Then he wavered, his vision contracted, and he nearly fell.
Gritz stood. “Are you okay?”
Jon shook his head. “Just a bit of head spin, I think.”
“Probably blood loss, or the combat-pharm kicking in.”
“Maybe,” Jon said doubtfully. “I felt like sitting down for a second there, I’m good now though.”
Then the tac-link crackled. “Lieutenants, you’re back. What’s happened? How are you back online?”
“Had to activate another relay. We’re in the ship’s cockpit,” Jon said. “We need to know what’s happening outside.”
“Cockpit? Okay, I’ve got you now. There’s not much going on outside. There’s a lot of Yogi’s just milling around and pointing at your ship.”
Jon nodded. “Okay Sounds like they don’t know how to open the ramp either. Let us know if any Ka-Li turn up. They’ll probably know how to get it open.”
“What will you do in the meantime?”
“We’ll be down in the hold, there’s hundreds of fuel containers down there that need draining.”
— 41 —
Jon and Gritz had settled into a rhythm when Murdoch interrupted them.
“Lieutenant, you’re gonna have company shortly.”
Jon looked up. He’d just thrust his combat knife into the side of yet another of the hundreds of cubes in the ship’s hold. As soon as he withdrew the blade, liquid spurted out.
“We’ll they’ll get a surprise when they open the hold. Besides, this place could do with a drain.”
The hold floor was awash with fuel. Jon had been puncturing containers for a solid ten minutes, and hundreds of liters had flowed out onto the floor. If the liquid he was standing in had been an old style hydrocarbon fuel, Jon might have had reason for concern. But, this was ship fuel. According to Pascale, only a very specific type of electromagnetic field could unlink the molecules of fuel from the fluid they were suspended in, and release the fuel’s energy.
“Skip, you’re sure that gunfire won’t set this stuff off?” Jon asked.
“Our rifles, sure.”
“What about those flechette carbines?”
“That I’m not so sure about, which is worrying me.”
Jon snorted. “You’re worried? I’m standing in the bloody stuff.”
“Sir, if all that fuel goes off, I’ll be vaporized a few milliseconds after you. Along with a good portion of the mountain range I imagine.”
“Good point. Let’s hope they recognize this for what it is and take appropriate precautions when they storm the place.”
Gritz, who’d been watching the ramp, piped up. “Ramp is lowering.”
Jon hobbled back to the cockpit passageway. “Come on, no point staying here.”
“How many did you do?” Gritz asked.
“It’d be lucky to be a quarter of them, we need more time.”
“I’ve got an idea, but we need to get hold of one of those Galactic flechette rifles,” Gritz said.
Jon cocked his head. “Oh, I see where you’re going, good idea. And I’ve got just the thing.”
Jon pulled out the box that had projected the barrier field in Gritz’s makeshift prison cell. “If we set this up just inside the cockpit passageway, we should be able to use it as a shield.”
Gritz’s eyes widened, then he frowned. “Nice idea, but how do we shoot through it.”
“Timing, I’ll line up a target, then tell you when to open the barrier.”
Jon tossed the device to Gritz then took a position in the corridor leading up to the cockpit.
Gritz set the device down just inside the hatch. “Give me a sec.”
Jon sighted down the short length of corridor. From this position, he had a good bead on the top of the ramp. Any second now, the Marbelites would start storming up it.
Jon double tapped a canine. “Skip give me a feed of the foot of the ramp, I want to know what’s coming up.”
“Copy.”
A moment later, an image appeared in the corner of his HUD. It showed the ramp lowering inexorably, still half a meter off the ground. There were half a dozen Marbelites and two Ka-Li at its base.
A deep clunk echoed through the hold as the foot of the ramp hit the ground. The Marbelites wasted no time, but they didn’t come in a rush. Instead, they stalked up the incline.
“As soon as we start taking fire hit the barrier,” Jon said.
Gritz nodded, his rifle was up and his eyes didn’t leave the hold. He was kneeling by the barrier device, using the coaming around the hatch as cover. It wasn’t good cover, but it was better than nothing.
One Marbelite poked its head over the top of the ramp. Jon reflexively picked it off, and it disappeared. Then he clenched his teeth, remembering that he should have waited until its torso was visible. But, he didn’t have time for regrets because the Marbelite sprung back up, accompanied by two others and they let loose a hail of flechettes.
The Marbelites weren’t aiming specifically at them, but the flechette rifles were firing in antipersonnel mode. This time, it was Gritz who caught a round. Jon saw him flinch as a flechette hit him in the shoulder.
Gritz dived for the floor and activated the barrier. But Jon could already see blood soaking through his fatigues. During his imprisonment, Gritz had been deprived of his equipment, and his smart fabric under armor. With it, the wound would have been a trivial irritation. But without the under armor to bind and close the wound, he was in danger of bleeding out.
Jon rushed forward. “Hold on.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Gritz said through gritted teeth. “You’ve got to drive them back, get one of those rifles and close the ramp quick.”
Jon looked up. But it was too late, two more Marbelites and the two Ka-Li had stormed up the ramp. And now all six were sighting along the corridor, straight at him.
“Fuck, I hope this barrier can stop those flechettes,” Jon muttered.
Then, like a giant mouth the ramp swung up and slammed shut, knocking two of the Marbelites to the ground. For a second the group seemed dazed, then one of the Ka-Li yelled and pointed at Jon.
Moments later they all opened fire.
Before Jon could react, hundreds of flechettes hammered into the barrier. Each was turned into a bright flash as it impacted the invisible field. But the barrier held.
The shriek of firing stopped, and Jon let out a breath of relief he didn’t even realize he’d been holding.
“Good call Moss,” said Gritz. “That hunch worked. Though we’re kind of locked in here.”
“At least the ramp is closed,” Jon said. “If we can pick them off one by one, we still stand a chance of draining all those containers.”
But before Gritz could reply, the four Marbelites started firing into the barrier again. They were taking turns to keep a continuous stream of flechettes slamming into the field. Except this time, they were focussing their fire at a specific spot. They were hitting the field as close as possible to the generating device.
“What are they doing?” asked Gritz.
“They must know some kind of weakness in the barrier. Maybe it can only take so much.”
Gritz looked at the device. A small light had started flashing. “That wasn’t flashing before was it?”
“I don’t think so.” Jon reached down. As he was about to touch the barrier device, he stopped. “That’s not good.”
“What?”
“It’s getting hot, I can feel the heat from here.”
“They must be trying to overload it,” Gritz said.
Jon peered through the haze of flashes. “I don’t think it’ll be long either, they look like they’re getting ready to rush us.”
Gritz pulled himself to his feet. “It’s been good knowing you Moss…”
Jon grabbed Gritz and dragged him back up the companionway toward the cockpit. “Don’t give up yet. We’ll hole up in here.”
Jon had to help Gritz to keep moving; he’d lost a surprisingly large amount of blood for one small hit. As soon as they entered the cockpit, Gritz flopped down into one of the rear flight seats. He still managed to lift his rifle to cover the companionway though, but unless he had medical attention soon, he wouldn’t be conscious long.
“Good move,” Jon said. “Now how in hell’s name do we close this hatch.”
The moment he uttered the rhetorical question, the hatch irised closed.
Jon took a step back. “Okay, now that was freaky. But I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.”
Next, Jon looked at Gritz’s shoulder. He wasn’t much of a field medic, but Jon knew he had to do something. He took out a knife, sliced the arm off Skip’s already blood soaked shirt, and improvised a bandage.
“How did you shut the door?”
“I didn’t.” Jon opened the tac-link. “Skip, Murdoch, did either of you hack the ship?”
“No, we wouldn’t even know where to begin. What’s happened?”
“Doors are closing. It almost seems like it’s voice controlled.”
“Well that’s possible.”
“The only problem is we’ve been speaking English.”
There was a pause. “That seems unlikely, sir.”
Jon tied off Gritz’s bandage. “Tell me about it.” He looked Gritz in the face. “You’re looking pale, need a shot of something?”
“Thought you’d never ask,” he mumbled.
Jon flicked through a couple of menus, then accessed Gritz’s implant and selected a standard trauma combat-pharm cocktail. He didn’t know what was in it, beyond pain killers and adrenaline, but it had got him and his men out of sticky situations before.
