Dark Ice (Mercenaries Book 2)

by A. R. Knight

  Cass was saying something, but Merc tuned her out. Maybe just screaming as the Viper blitzed through space. Even with one of his engines missing, Merc was pretty sure that disc fighter couldn't keep up. Had to make this a longer range game, where that thing's ability to dash around like a dragonfly wasn't an advantage.

  His sensor board showed the disc following, taking the occasional potshot, but with Merc juking the Viper at random, the disc wasn't landing much. The freighter loomed back in front again, big and white. The Jumper was off to the side, closer to Neptune and out of the fight. Even with experienced gunners rocking the turrets, they hadn't been able to hit the disc. No sense risking the prisoners.

  "One-on-one," Merc said, without realizing it. His right hand gripped the stick tight, sweat beading. Merc's left hovered over the sliders for engines, lasers, and shields, all even at the moment. In a second they'd be flying over the freighter.

  In a second, the disc would lose half its options, everything below would mean slamming into the freighter's surface.

  "Ever done a front flip?" Merc said, and didn't listen for Cass's reply. He cut the power to the engines, pushed the stick forward and pushed the maneuvering jets, swinging the Viper around in the opposite direction of the first time. Only he didn't fire any thrust, so the Viper kept speeding across the freighter and away from the disc.

  Merc couldn't see the disc, and he had to bet that the disc couldn't see the Viper either, except on its sensors. And sensors did a crap job of showing where someone was pointed. Where they were going, sure. But now Merc's lasers were firing where he'd come from. Flashes as the beams struck out into the distance, and Merc saw a few crash against a shield, but when he looked at the sensor, the disc was still there, coming at him from a different vector.

  "Get him?" Cass said.

  "How d'ya know it's a he?" Merc said, pushing the engines back up. Pushing back towards the freighter. Towards the disc. Sending a streaming of lasers forth and watching every one of them miss as the disc blipped around at irregular angles. Then the splashes came against the Viper's shields, the disc sending a shot and veering out of the way of Merc's counter.

  This wasn't the way to win the fight. Cutting off half the disc's options wasn't enough. Merc had to pin the fighter, cut the opportunity. The Viper shuddered as another shot hit it on the side, the console flashing red as the shields fell to minimal strength.

  "If I die here, I'm haunting the hell out of you," Cass said.

  "I'll be dead too," Merc said.

  "Doesn't matter."

  Merc shook his head. The sensors blipped. A new icon, coming around the freighter. The frigate. Must be Bakr's ship. Trying to grab those ice diamonds. Merc blinked. Pushed the power from the Viper's lasers to the engines, and the fighter shot across the freighter's surface, building distance between it and the disc.

  "What next, hotshot?" Cass said.

  "It's a secret," Merc replied.

  "I just hope it's better than your last trick."

  Me too, Merc thought. The Viper shot over the edge of the freighter. Merc cut the engines, shoved the power to shields and let the disc catch up. Wouldn't work if the enemy was paying too much attention. Had to get them greedy.

  A moment later the Viper was back in the cloud of ice diamonds, zooming through space in Neptune's orbit. Merc angled around clumps of them, twisting the Viper through and watching the sensors as the disc followed suit, closing. Any second now, the disc would shoot fire into the Viper's engines. Any second now, they would both be entirely surrounded by the diamonds.

  The Viper shrieked as it took another hit to the engines, the disc's lasers punching through the shields and causing Merc's middle engine to wink out on the console. Perfect. Merc shunted power to the right engine, the only one left, and spun the Viper around again. The disc was ready, reacting to the Viper's spin. Merc saw it, saw the disc move as he pulled the trigger and sent lasers firing into the vacated space. Watched as the disc flew directly to the side, an impossible angle for most ships, an angle that took it right into the path of a cluster of ice diamonds.

  The ice diamonds weren't energy. Solid, forged mass. They cut right through the disc's shields at high velocity, powered by Neptune's lingering gravity and the ejection from the freighter. They sliced the disc to ribbons, shattering the engines, laser cannons, breaking the fighter into dozens of shards that spun right along with the cluster.

  "See? What'd I tell you?" Merc said, using the maneuvering jets to guide the Viper clear of the diamonds. "You're fine."

  "Are we?"

  Merc glanced at the sensor board, then tilted the Viper to the left. Bearing down on them, filling most of the Viper's cockpit, was the frigate, bristling with turrets. And Merc only had one functioning engine.

  54

  Shooter’s Past

  The target was surrounded by other targets. The collection that the ECA - Earth-Corporate Alliance - had been hunting for months was here, all here nestled in the side of Olympus Mons. A mountain was so large that the side filled Opal's entire horizon and kept on going, but the mountain's shadow had a purpose. Olympus Mon's sheer size restricted the view of satellites, disrupted communications, and made it difficult to get any sizable force nearby without being observed. Which was why Opal lying next to a mini-rover and looking through a scope at people over three kilometers away.

  Peace. That was the topic under discussion. The reason the Red Voice had gathered its ranking members here. Define the conditions that the ECA would have to accept if they wanted to keep their Mars investments producing. If they wanted to keep them at all.

  "Opal?" A voice. From the comm?

  Opal glanced at her wrist. No message.

  "Can you hear me?"

  Aside from the giant mountain, the only things around Opal were mounds of reddish rock and sand. Locked in a narrow crevice between a pair of rises, her rover out of sight behind them, Opal wasn't sure where the voice was coming from. A few moments breathing. Nothing more. Maybe just a daydream.

  "Focus," Opal muttered to herself, looking through the scope again.

  The primary target, Alissa Reinhert, still moving, welcoming associates into the large room. A design flaw, putting that many windows in high-profile meeting space. But then, who'd have predicted the luxury resort being commandeered by hostile forces? Opal took a breath. So many of them. Alissa was the ECA's primary goal, but if they were all here, the entire leadership of the rebellion . . . maybe if she could get a comm signal out, the ECA could try something more.

  But did all of these people deserve to die? Opal didn't recognize most of them. Minor players. Specialists. Non-combatants. They weren't in her mission protocol. So the comm stayed off.

  Opal zoomed out, looked at the exterior of the building. Like half an oval, the resort was built into Olympus Mons, with part of it literally inside the mountain. The conference room fit along the oval's outer edge, providing what was probably a spectacular view. Only, glass works both ways.

  Opal noticed motion in the scope; doors were opening into the room, waiters bringing in celebratory toasts. No more time to think about strikes. The targets, Alissa included, were grabbing glasses and circling up around a table. Opal didn't have the angle to see what was on it, but she could guess. The document, the terms. A deal struck to get the rebellion to the table, a deal the ECA had no desire to keep. One way to get out of a promise was to get rid of who it was made to.

  Allisa was in the scope now. Walking over to the table. Grinning. Laughing.

  "C'mon, Opal. I need a sign that you're there," The voice again.

  Opal blinked. What was that? Who was trying to talk to her?"

  "Come back," It said.

  No. The target. Opal centered Alissa in the scope as she leaned over the table, pulled the trigger. In Mars' thin atmosphere, the rifle cracked lightly, the kick-back strong from the weak gravity, but Opal was ready. Kept the rifle dialed in, eyes down the scope. The shot was on dead-on. Hit the glass. And bounced of
f. Not even a scratch. Nobody inside even looked up.

  That didn't make sense. The statistics on the resort said the glass was standard. Her shot should have pierced. Gone right through. Through the scope, Opal could see the other members of the party taking turns with the table, adding their names. She had to act.

  "I need a negative strike at the following coordinates ASAP," Opal commed, stating the precise position of the resort's conference room. The ECA had several orbiting satellites around Mars, a few of them capable of performing so-called negative strikes. She'd been assured there'd be one overhead if needed, if the situation called for it. If Opal felt it necessary to achieve the objective.

  "What are you saying?" The voice, confused, answered.

  The comm on her wrist clicked once. Affirmative. The voice hadn't come from the comm. Strange. Opal settled back into her position, watched.

  The negative strike was invisible, but it started quickly. Opal saw when the conference center's first alarms went off. That would be the vacuum breach as the satellite's weapon burrowed through the glass shell. The members looked confused for a moment, then filtered towards the exit. Alissa surrounded by a pair of what looked like body guards. A moment later people took off their coats, and the first expressions of panic showed on their faces. Smoke rose from table clothes, from evaporating champagne. And then the oval burst into flame as the oxygen began to burn.

  Opal knew what would happen next. The literal lighting of the air would expand too quickly for the resort to cope. It would burn through the underground, through the rooms and restaurants, the docking bays and pools. Only when the last bit of oxygen had burned away would the flames die out. And all anyone would find when they came to see would be ash.

  "This is going to sting a bit, but I need you to wake up," The voice said.

  "Who are you?" Opal asked the martian air.

  Only it wasn't the martian air any more. The red vistas, Opal's rifle and mini-rover fell away and for a moment Opal was nowhere at all. Then she felt the bed, the blanket. Saw the light beaming down at her, and Erick's frowning face.

  "You don't know who I am?" Erick asked.

  "I, I do," Opal said.

  The doctor split his face into a wide smile.

  "Opal, I think you're going to be OK," Erick said.

  But all Opal could think about was that look on Alissa Reinhert's face as she realized what was happening, that extinguishing spark as she realized everything was lost.

  55

  Improvising

  With a swipe on the console's screen, Viola turned on the Karat's ore intake. Meant to be used in conjunction with mining lasers, the intake acted as a large vacuum, sucking up ice diamonds and setting them into the cargo hold. Now, there wasn't anyone aiming a mining laser, but they had nothing to cut. The ice diamonds, floating through the vacuum, were picked up by the intake and sucked into the Karat's hold.

  "You need to get closer," Yuan said. "The intakes don't have the draw from here."

  "He'll blow us up if we get within range of those guns."

  "The shields will hold. For long enough, anyway."

  Viola swallowed. Tapped in a new heading on the console, and told the Karat's flight computer to execute. The ship drifted, the churning intakes were sucking away most of the engine power, but in a vacuum, even a small amount of thrust is enough. The sensors showed a pair of blips - the frigate the larger one, Merc's Viper the smaller one. In a few seconds, the frigate would eclipse Merc and wipe him from existence.

  "You're sure there's no weapons on this thing?" Viola asked for the fiftieth time.

  "It's an experimental ship," Yuan said. "Eden will probably add defenses on future models, based on this experience."

  "Doesn't help us now."

  "Don't focus on what you don't have," Yuan replied.

  "Whatever you say, Captain Zen."

  "Sorry, it's a bad habit."

  "If you shift our shield energy to the intake, I'll forgive you," Viola said, eyes glued to the sensor scan.

  "That will leave us vulnerable," Yuan replied.

  "Just do it," Viola said. "Trust me."

  There was something absurd in Viola, a newly-minted mercenary telling an experienced corporate captain what to do, but damn it, it was Viola's friend in danger here so normal protocol need not apply. Yuan, for his part, seemed to understand. He nodded, then routed the power. As the Karat's computer adjusted the pull, Viola felt the ship shake as it suddenly engulfed more cargo than it was designed to handle. Ice diamonds, random space debris, and anything else that happened by the Karat was getting caught in the suction and yanked into the cargo hold.

  On the sensor console the blip representing the frigate was still closing with the Viper. Only the rate was slowing. Then it stopped, the two icons barely separate. And then the frigate went backward. Towards the Karat.

  "We've got it!" Viola yelled, then turned to Yuan. "Now what?"

  56

  Vacuum

  Merc felt the Viper lurch forward, towards the frigate. Only, the larger craft didn't come any closer. Merc watched out the cockpit window, waiting for his brain to lock back into reality and tell him that the Viper and its damaged engines were going to either slam into the bigger ship or be blown to pieces by its lasers.

  "Shouldn't we be dead by now?" Cass asked. "Cause I'm cramping up back here, so if we're gonna die, can we get on with it?"

  "Trying,” Merc said, his voice trailing off. The Viper's console showed they were moving, despite having no engines. What was going on? He glanced at the sensor board. A third blip was nearby, larger still than the frigate. Too big to be the Jumper. Not nearly large enough to be the Amerigo. Which meant . . .

  "I think we're being mined,” Merc said.

  "Mined?"

  "The Karat has entered the game, and she's sucking us up,” Merc said.

  "Is that a bad thing?"

  "Still gotta figure that out,” Merc replied. If the Viper shot into the Karat's cargo bay, he might get the maneuvering jets up in time to keep the fighter from crashing. But the frigate sat between them and the mining ship. As soon as they decided to light Merc up, they were toast.

  "The thing with Bakr," Cass said. "Is that you always know he would kill you if it meant helping the cause."

  "You bring this up because?"

  "Your friends aren't as ruthless. It's dangerous not to match a fanatic on his own terms," Cass said.

  "Yeah, well, your fanatic's not doing to hot," Merc replied, then adjusted the levels. Shields and the maneuvering jets.

  "So h ow does the best pilot in the solar system get caught up with a group of mercenaries?" Cass said.

  "You're asking now, when we're a trigger finger away from being space dust?"Merc replied.

  "When Eden torched my town in the name of keeping the peace, I lost everyone," Cass said. "I don't want to die that way too."

  "I get it," Merc said, Opal flitting through his mind. "Since you asked, the best pilot in the solar system has a problem with authority."

  "Shocking."

  The frigate's nose, just out of firing range, tilted away from the Viper. Turning, towards the oval behind them. Merc hoped the Karat had some strong shields, cause otherwise it was about to be ash.

  "Doe s that satisfy your death wish?" Merc said.

  "It'll do," Cass said. "Still, would rather not die, if you can arrange it?"

  "Workin' on it ."

  Before Cass could say reply, Merc flipped on the comm and opened a wide channel.

  "Hey there, Karat, this is your friendly fighter pilot you're about to suck into that nasty vacuum of yours. I get you're trying to grab the big boy, but how about letting us loose?" Merc said.

  "How do you know they're friends?" Cass said.

  "Cause everybody likes me?"

  "Merc?" The question came from the comm, with the clarity of a tight-beam communication. "Can you hear me?"

  "Viola!" Merc said. "Girl, I can hear you like a song. Now please tel
l me you're not going to grind my ship into dust?"

  Outside the front window, the Karat's oval spawned out of the dark like a smaller, distorted version of the planet they orbited. The frigate sat between them and the Karat, halfway through its slow turn. Big ships curved in long arcs, hard to do when they're getting yanked from behind.

  "I'm trying to save you," Viola's reply. "You're small enough. Turn on your engines, get out of there!"

  "Who is that?" Cass asked.

  "Viola, my engines are burnt," Merc said, ignoring Cass. "Just, when you catch that big prize there, turn off your intakes and we'll be good."

  In front of them, Bakr's frigate completed its turn. The ship's wings, bristling with turrets, spat fire at the Karat as soon as the mining vessel was in range. Merc watched as the first few winked out against the shields, but soon the flashes slipped through and orange flares erupted in the Karat's side. Bakr's ship fired at random, trying to find a point that would disarm the vacuum.

  Out side the cockpit, sparkling ice diamonds swirled, pulled towards the Karat as well. They reflected the laser-light of the frigate, flashing crimson, gold, and occasionally white when a particular piece of electric innards blew off the Karat.

  "You got any more shields on that thing?" Merc commed. "Cause you might want to turn them on."

  The only reply was static. Given the progressive destruction engulfing the Karat, it wasn't surprising that the comms were out. The frigate had firepower when it wanted to deliver it. Only the intakes were still going, still pulling everything towards their dark insides. And Bakr's ship was getting awfully close. In a few moments they were going to collide, and when they did, everything around the Viper was going to be a cluster of debris.