Beyond the Rim (Rebels and Patriots Book 2)

by A. G. Claymore

  “How did you even get here?” She took her cup from Tommy with a polite nod and took a sip.

  “Frankly…” Paul paused to toss back his entire drink in one gulp. The hot liquid seared its way down to his belly and his body gave a slight shudder. “… I didn’t even know you guys were out here. Julia and I were scouting Sintel and got pinched by the Grays. Folks from the Mary Starbuck rescued us.”

  “Julia?” She tried to take a larger sip and gasped at the strength. “She’s that Marine you worked with to stop Seneca?” She raised an eyebrow. “I like her! Are you two an item or what?”

  Paul handed Tommy his cup and waved his arm over the payment module on the man’s forearm. He subvocalized a command and Saoirse’s armor redeployed with welcome speed.

  “We’ll have to finish this chat later,” he told her as his own armor snapped into place.

  “But not my coffee,” she groused, having dropped the small cup as her armor was closing.

  He could see a small group already crowding in around Tommy’s shop as he walked away. The man would be doing a good turn of business for weeks as people came to find out why two Marines showed up at his little café.

  Paul reached the rendezvous with time to spare, but Ava already had a shuttle waiting. She stood at the back ramp along with two guards and they all brought their weapons up in alarm as the two heavily armored figures came trotting around the corner.

  Paul came to a halt and held his hands up, Saoirse’s suit mimicking his gesture. He deactivated platoon flow and retracted his own helmet. When the guards lowered their weapons, he issued a command for Saoirse’s HMA to open. Saoirse stepped out awkwardly.

  Ava stared in shock for a moment, as if she didn’t trust her own eyes, then she started moving toward her daughter. “Saoirse!” She dropped her rifle and raced across to meet her daughter in the middle.

  Paul could feel a tightness in his chest as he watched the reunion. His mind drifted back across the years to the day he’d said goodbye to Ava. If only they’d been living here from the start. His father wouldn’t have died so young and the family wouldn’t have been torn apart by an uncaring Imperium.

  Ava wiped at her eyes and turned to Paul. “Why does her breath smell like cheap coffee?”

  Shepherding

  “…Three, two, one, initiating micro-jump,” Robin announced.

  The stars shimmered out of sight and reappeared slightly farther apart. The Ava Klum was on the freighter convoy’s flank, exactly where they’d expected to be. The three escort vessels were on the far side, pursuing the Mary Starbuck and the Walter Currie as the two decoy ships raced away from the threatened enemy freighters.

  “Shuttles away!” the operations officer called out.

  Julia had taken both shuttles from each of her two smaller, Human-built ships and moved them to the Ava Klum. All six shuttles were packed with two prize crews each, giving them the ability to seize as many as twelve vessels before the convoy could fall back on the time-honored last defense.

  They were already scattering, bereft of their escorts and menaced from a new flank. The more distance they could put between each other, the harder it became for Julia’s boarding parties.

  She turned to the cowled monk. “N’Zim? Anything?”

  N’Zim, standing in the middle of the holo-projected convoy, raised his right hand, or manipulator, perhaps. He indicated one of the ships. “The Sarah Celestial out of Bordeaux,” he rattled. “She carries organic circuits.”

  “Tactical, target that ship,” Hale commanded.

  The tactical officer immediately vectored the closest shuttle.

  Julia gave a slight nod of approval. She’d stressed the need for quick action and Hale was ready to remove any officer who failed to act quickly on N’Zim’s information.

  The crew was welcome to elect a replacement, but whoever they chose would still have to measure up.

  N’Zim identified eleven more targets and the shuttles began accelerating toward their first batch of targets.

  “Looks like the escorts have finally noticed us,” the sensor officer remarked drily. He nodded to the three red icons that were now racing for the effect horizon of the artificial singularity.

  Julia resisted the urge to look in Hale’s direction. This ship was his command but she was sorely tempted to reprimand the sensor officer. Hale was the only one who should be dealing with discipline on this ship if he wanted his own position to be taken seriously. Fortunately, he already understood that.

  “It would be better,” he growled at the sensor officer, “if you’d reported that the escorts are making a run for the edge of the effect horizon. I don’t have time to play catch-up every time you feel like making some enigmatic comment.”

  “Aye, sir,” the man replied, his ears slightly red.

  Julia knew it wouldn’t do much harm for the officer to receive a mild reprimand and it would do some good for his subordinates to see that discipline would be enforced, regardless of who was found to be slacking off.

  It was difficult for a captain to reprimand the officers who’d elected him. Hale, however, seemed to have a longer view than some of the more populist officers who’d be more than happy to sacrifice long-term success in return for happy voters.

  “Should we give ’em an ass-full of kinetic?” the weapons officer asked. “No problem hitting them at this range.”

  Hale shook his head. “Let ’em run. If they get home with battle damage, it’ll be harder for the other captains in the convoy to accuse them of cowardice. They failed to do what they were hired for; now let them face the shame.”

  “When they explain that they were up against a purpose-built warship, folks might not be so hard on them.” The weapons officer replied, clearly eager to open up on the fleeing ships.

  “Keep in mind the ship they’re running from was seized by the Mary Starbuck, all by her lonesome, against two cruisers and several destroyers,” Julia told him. “It’s not like they’re facing impossible odds here.”

  It was slightly unfair. They hadn’t had much choice at the time. They’d risked everything on a desperate gamble. No paid escort force would feel compelled to stick around in the face of such odds.

  “Take us around to herd that flank back in,” Hale ordered,, highlighting a section of the holo where four of the selected targets were opening up a lead on the raider’s shuttles.

  As the Ava Klum moved into a blocking position, the fleeing freighters altered course to avoid her, the new course preventing a straight run away from the pursuing shuttles.

  Julia looked up at the huge tactical holo that dominated the central space of the bridge. The Mary Starbuck and the Walter Currie, suddenly free of the running firefight with the three escorts, were charging back in to herd the flock from the far side. It was standard privateer tactics. Distract the escorts and keep them too busy to interfere with boarding operations but, if the escorts are destroyed or driven off, keep the prey from escaping.

  The four shuttles merged with their first targets, thanks to the Ava Klum’s intervention, and the targets began moving back into the herd. “The first six prize crews have initiated their boarding assaults,” the operations officer announced. “Shuttles moving to secondaries now.”

  Julia was about to speak when N’Zim croaked in annoyance. The monk shuffled into the center of the projected formation. “These Gray sensors!” he rattled. “So hit-or-miss when it comes to reading Human registries!” He jabbed his manipulator at a medium-sized ship in the center, issuing a loud, rattling croak.

  Julia suspected it was his idea of a particularly offensive profanity.

  “That’s the Naughty Helot,” he hissed. “We know nothing about her cargo. Nothing at all.”

  “Then why are you making such a damned fuss about it, N’Zim?” Julia frowned. “Should you know something about it?”

  “We always know something about the shipping in these sectors,” N’Zim rattled. “But this ship went dark on us years ago. We don�
��t even know who crews it. The original crew was fired and sent dirt-side when the ship disappeared from us.”

  He turned to Julia. “I would very much like to know what, as you dimensionally challenged Humans like to say, they’re up to.”

  “So would I,” she affirmed. “Captain Hale, bring us alongside the Naughty Helot, if you please. Do we have any boarding pods?”

  Hale shook his head. “No, ma’am. We left them aboard our other two ships, seeing as we’d already taken their shuttles.”

  “Signal the Starbuck; have her lay alongside the Naughty Helot on the port side and launch pods after they see me go in. Leave room for the Mary Starbuck to get in between us and the target.” The electro-chromatic tattoos under her eyes appeared along with the helmet registration marks on her shaved scalp. “I’ll jump across and seize a foothold in the Helot’s hangar bay before they get into position.”

  She saw the disapproving glance from the navigation officer and one look at Hale showed he was also forming a protest. “You’re right to think my place is here, Captain, but, if that ship’s up to no good, then it probably has more than a simple merchant crew aboard. Commodore or not, I’m going first. I want armor leading the fight and I’ve got the only available suit.”

  “Take good care of our cruiser, Captain Hale.” She gave him a nod as she turned for the exit hatch. “I don’t plan on staying over there.”

  She returned to her quarters to put on her armor. The plates of her HMA suit gave her a feeling of safety and privacy that the skin-tight underarmor suit just couldn’t match.

  She left her quarters and headed for the central companionway, following it forward until she reached a riser and timed her hop so that she’d be dropping before she passed beyond the grav-plating. Her momentum carried her down and toward the back of the shaft and she lightly pushed off the back wall with her hands and feet to rotate and step out onto the deck where she’d first boarded the ship with Paul.

  She strode into the hangar deck, still showing the damage of their firefight, and grabbed an assault rifle from a rack by the main door, slapping it onto a mag plate on her chest. She positioned herself opposite the blue haze of the entry port’s atmo shielding, crouching down into a sprinter’s stance.

  “I’m ready,” she announced over the bridge channel.

  “Stand by,” Robin replied. “We’re going to drop past them to port, slowing as we come alongside. The Mary Starbuck will slide in almost immediately after you jump.”

  “Understood.” She deployed her helmet, taking comfort in the familiar surroundings she’d spent so much time in.

  The hull of the Naughty Helot suddenly rose into view, only a few hundred meters away and Julia launched herself into a sprint, legs forcing the armor to move faster than any Human could possibly run without assistance or augmentation. She reached the edge of the deck and she simply put her next foot out into space.

  Too many of her fellow officer candidates had been unable to shake the impulse to jump at the deck’s edge. They always ended up drifting upward, completely missing the target. Those were usually the richer ones, the ones who steadfastly refused to take their training seriously. In many ways, the Imperial Marines were the best-trained and poorest-led troops in the Universe.

  She was almost perfectly in line, so her maneuvering thrusters wouldn’t be needed. Still, she resisted the urge to grab the weapon stuck to her chest plates. It wasn’t tethered and, if she was going to accidentally drop it, far better it drop on the enemy deck than to have it go cartwheeling off into the black.

  She looked to her right to see the fast approaching bulk of the Mary Starbuck as it raced into position. Though she knew she’d be out of the way in time, it was still an unsettling sight.

  She turned her attention back to the Naughty Helot. Someone in the hangar bay had noticed her approach and was drawing a sidearm. He’d probably been staring at the Ava Klum when she’d finally come close enough for him to notice.

  His weapon would be no problem for her, but she had a boarding party coming from the Mary Starbuck and so he would have to die. She put her right foot forward and slid through the atmo-shielding. She dropped to the deck, already bringing her left forward at a dead run.

  She’d left the Ava Klum at top speed, so she was arriving aboard her target at the same velocity. As soon as she had her balance sorted out, she pulled her weapon loose and brought it up to bear on her first target. She ignored the sound of small arms fire bouncing off her armor and squeezed the trigger.

  The man dropped his pistol and crumpled to the deck. She had a thermal overlay ghosted onto the normal visual display and she could see four other crewmen crouching behind the usual assortment of clutter. She moved toward the first, stepping around the corner of a pallet to find a young man pointing a pistol up at her. He was shaking his head, eyes pleading even as he emptied a magazine at her composite armor.

  He seemed to have no control over his own actions, or at least some of them. He seemed free to show his emotions, after all.

  She smacked the weapon out of his hand and grabbed his forearm, snapping it like a twig. While he howled, she repeated the procedure on his left arm. She couldn’t bring herself to kill him but she didn’t want him to unwillingly shoot any of her crew or kill himself.

  The look on his face was absurdly grateful.

  She raced around the perimeter of the large space, similarly disabling the remaining crewmen.

  When the first of the Starbucks began landing their boarding pods on the hangar bay deck, she’d already dragged her victims out into the middle of the space. “Keyson,” she singled out one of the men. “Get these guys in a pod and take them back to the Mary Starbuck. They’re to be restrained in the medical bay.”

  She noted his frown but managed not to snap at him. “When that’s done, bring back some more heavy riflemen. I’ve got a feeling we’re going to need the firepower.”

  Keyson’s expression brightened upon hearing he was to return to the fight. He started to drag the first wounded man over to a pod, calling out to one of his shipmates to give him a hand loading them in.

  Julia opened her helmet as she turned to organize her boarding party. “How many heavy riflemen do we have?”

  Five hands went up.

  “Good! I want one of you with each team. If that’s not already the arrangement, then trade off.”

  A minor shuffle ensued. One of the boarders waved to catch her attention. “Is something up?”

  Julia nodded. “There might be, Cara.” She pointed to the pod that Keyson was taking back through the Mary Starbuck’s atmo shielding. “One of those guys had a Marine transponder.”

  She let the surprised murmur run for a moment before continuing. She wanted them to understand what they might be up against. “I don’t know if there’s any more of them but, if they have armor, you can’t just go straight at them.”

  “I want you to take cover and draw their attention. Give our heavy riflemen a chance to hit them with armor-piercing rounds.” She nodded at one of the riflemen. “Do you have AP in that monster?”

  He gave her a nod, hefting the massive tube. “Depleted uranium sabots.”

  “Good!” She grinned at him. “I’ll make it a point to watch out for those things in the future!” She pointed at his weapon as the boarding party chuckled.

  “If you’re shooting at HMA,” she told him, gesturing at the seam between her abdominal plates and the pelvic armature, “this isn’t the weak point it seems to be. You’ll kill the operator but the suit can keep on fighting if it was set to weapons free.”

  She pointed to her chest. “The CPU’s on the spinal armature, at the back. You’ll have to burn through the plates at front or back to get any damage done. The sensor suite is mostly in the helmet plates. She deployed the helmet to show them. “If the operator is dead and you’re trying to slow the suit down, taking out the helmet will blind it.”

  She looked back out at the Mary Starbuck. Keyson was already lau
nching for his return trip. “Alright, get going. We don’t want to give them time to organize a defense. I’ll send the extra riflemen on when they land.”

  The various teams went off in search of their objectives and Julia fought the urge to tap an armored foot as she waited for the pod to return.

  She’d chafed at the limited technology used by her lightly armored dragoons, back in the Gliese system, but this was blindness by comparison. The irregular troops she’d been sent to advise at least had uniform gear and the ability to securely transmit their locations as well as mapping the enemy’s ship as they fought their way through its corridors.

  Now, she only knew what her crew managed to report by direct comm-link. Even having one suit of dragoon armor would have been enough to transmit some real-time data. Their citizen chips would let her know where they were, within a certain range, but she would have none of the advanced terrain-mapping features of Imperial armor.

  If only Paul were here. She smiled to herself. It wasn’t just his armor she was missing.

  The pod’s landing startled her back to the present. She turned to face the newcomers. Keyson had brought back four more heavy riflemen. The large weapons, combined with their heavy upper musculature, didn’t leave room for any more passengers.

  She pointed at the closest man. “Moravin, you and Keyson will head aft to help the team taking the engineering spaces.” She nodded at the next man as the first two moved off. “Get forr’ard, Ken, and back up the team taking the bridge.”

  Ken nodded and jogged toward the main companionway, his pistol in his hands. Heavy riflemen in close quarter combat tended to rely on faster firing small arms until they encountered a target that required their full firepower. Like the others, his man-portable rail gun was slung over his shoulder.

  Julia turned to the last two men. “Marcus, A.J., you’ll come with me. We’re going to head below and find the team securing the cargo holds. Something’s up with this pig and I’ll bet my share it’s going to be down in the cargo area.”