Rasha wasn't sure whether it was for the good or not. On the one hand they weren't a hindrance anymore. Nor were the idiots who had gone forward to negotiate and had gotten shot for their trouble. But they would be missed by their friends.
“Cop out,” Taylor muttered. “They took the easy way out rather than admit their world view was wrong. Good riddance,” he said.
Rasha was a bit appalled by her husband's point of view, but couldn't disagree with his logic.
...*...*...*...*...
Kenny Kennet, ostracized by council, mad with rage, decided it was finally his chance to get even. He had been run off the council after the Yard Dog incident. Now he saw his chance for revenge. “Major Zimmer, a moment of your time,” Kennet said, waiting for the Major to look up. He'd taken careful pains to make certain the other cybers were distracted. He wasn't quite sure what was going on outside the station, all the exterior sensors were offline, but he knew it was something important.
“Who the hell are you?” the Major asked, looking at the holographic image. “Another idiot trying to negotiate?” he demanded.
“Well, in a way. I'd like to propose an agreement. Spare my life and I will let you know where the cybers are.”
“Cybers? Did you say cybers? Is that who's been interfering in my plans?” Zimmer demanded, eyes flashing dangerously.
“I, um... Yes,” Kennet said, shrugging. “Cybers. I am a cyber. We are quite valuable, a bridge between man and machine,” he said diplomatically.
“Right right, I know all that,” Zimmer said. “So you were involved in this?”
Kennet's eyes widened. “No no, not me, I've been, exiled, I guess you could say. Ostracized by my peers. My so called peers. So, I'd like to make new ties. A new beginning so to speak.”
Zimmer stared at him. Finally he leaned forward. “Where. Are. They?”
“In the command center. I can show you the way,” He informed the Horathians about the hidden cybers. Kennet watched as the Major ordered a Lieutenant to gather a force and follow the cyber's directions. The Lieutenant gave the holographic image a single look then nodded sharply to his boss.
“It's this way,” the rogue cyber said, indicating the axial to command. “No offense, but we've been right under your nose this whole time. I hope you understand, we were just trying to survive.”
“I see,” the Lieutenant said noncommittally.
“Your Major sounds like a good leader,” Kennet said as the humans loaded up into a lift car. The tube doors closed and the machine took off, moving through the station. “I cleared the way. Once you're inside you can dictate terms to the others. I can watch over them from the inside to make sure they behave of course,” he said, trying to feel the Lieutenant out.
When they arrived on the command deck he waved them into the outer ante room with a slight flourish. “It's just through here, the command deck of the station. Beyond that is our inner sanctum of sanctums.”
“Find them,” the Lieutenant said coldly as his men spread out around him warily. “Find them and smash the pods. We'll rig explosives to make sure they're all dead,” he growled. He pointed to the inner door leading to the command room.
Kennet's holographic eyes went wide. “Now wait, that's not what we agreed... oh shit!” Kennet wailed as other holograms appeared around him. The doors locked behind the Lieutenant's squad and the air began to rapidly evacuate from the room. “No!” Kennet said. “I didn't mean it!” he wailed.
“It's a trap!” the Lieutenant said, triggering his explosives. The room rocked as the explosives went off, tearing it's interior apart.
Kennet was suddenly struck sober by what he had almost done and about being caught. He backpedaled, babbling to D'red, Yan Fu, and the others. None however were paying attention to him.
Other cybers recognized his treachery, it was rather hard to miss since they had been carefully monitoring the pirates from the moment they arrived. “We've got to do something about him, he could get us all killed. Now they know we're here, where we're at.” Taylor and Rasha Warner spoke to the others as they slapped up defenses.
“You brought this on yourselves when you turned your back on me!” Kennet's voice echoed through the system.
“Take me back!” Kennet babbled over and over. but Yan cut him off. The Asian leader cut him from the net and all sensory information, driving him insane in seconds. It was cruel but necessary.
“We'll have to kill him. For what he's done....”
“We'll deal with him later. If there is a later.”
Chapter 36
Once he had a secure beachhead Valenko paused, letting his people consolidate the gains that they had. “Time to make a call,” he said. He frowned at the report. Gauss rifles were a bit more than he'd expected. They threw twelve gram rounds down range, punching through the thin skin of the station in some places. The Marines in armor shrugged such fire off, but those in skinsuits were taking a beating.
Of course they were giving back some of their own, the Marine Gauss rifles, the C-42 fired steel jacketed tungsten impailer darts half the size of the Horathian rounds, but twice the mass and four times the striking power. And their rifles didn't blow up if they were fired too much, always a bonus in combat.
“A call? At a time like this? Oh wait, the brass,” Sergei said, turning slightly. A robot was nearby, one of the bots they had borrowed from Firefly. It was a repair remote, allowing the Marines to repair damage or find ways around problems.
“Just watch your zone Sergei,” Valenko said dismissively. He called Zimmer on an open frequency.
“What? Who the hell is this?” an angry voice replied.
“This is Lieutenant Valenko of the Federation Marines. I'm looking for your commanding officer, a Major Zimmer, or whoever is left in charge.”
“Um...”
Another voice came on after a pause. “Wait one,” it said gruffly.
Valenko turned, pretending to buff his nails. It was a silly look, but something that amused him. “I'm not going anywhere,” he said.
“Find that damn signal. I want its location,” Zimmer snarled to his subordinates. “Who the hell is it?”
“A lieutenant sir. Um, Valenko.”
“Lieutenant? Just a lieutenant?”
“I...”
“Never mind. I could give a shit,” Zimmer said, eyes turning to his screen. His intel shop was shaky at best, they had after all, fallen on their face time after time when he'd ordered them to get him a proper map of the station. Someone had been cute, they'd overwritten the map in the computer network and had even changed all the directional signs his people ran across.
“Yes?” he said, finally, clicking the microphone. “This is the Horathian commanding officer.”
“Ah,” Valenko said. “Finally.”
“Are you the Marine in charge?”
“Of this assault yes. Of all the Marines, no. That would be Captain Pendeckle, he's a bit busy coordinating all the Marines all over the system right now. So, I've been tasked to take this station.”
“Really. You're nowhere near taking this station,” Zimmer taunted.
“Really? I think my people are doing quite well. Quite well indeed. You humans are very overconfident.”
“Wait, what did you say your name is? Valenko? I thought you were human? Russian? Isn't that a Russian name?”
“Indeed it is. And my ancestors were from Russia at one point in time, but I'm not human. Far from it. I'm a Neo bear. A grizzly I believe the term is.”
“You...” the Major stared, clenching the microphone tightly.
“And yes, I'm in charge of dozens of aliens, humans, and Neo's all sent here to kick your ass. But I'm feeling good, I've been given orders to try to avoid further bloodshed if possible. You know your fleet is gone. You're alone. Right?”
Only a growl answered him. Valenko shook his head. “I'm calling to offer you the Horathians terms of surrender.”
“You're giving up?”
“Cu
te,” the bear rumbled. “No, I'm asking you to give up.”
“To... to a bear? To scum? A Neo? A piece of trash??!” the Major sputtered. From there it devolved into cursing and saying rather nasty things about Valenko's mother and his sexual orientation. Valenko tuned most of it out. Clearly the Horathian was furious at the idea of talking to a Neobear Marine, let alone surrendering to one. Valenko was amused by the other's rage.
“I'm trying to get you and your people out of this in one piece Major. Take the offer, it's the best you are ever going to get.”
“Frack you and your damn offer!” The Horathian raged, spittle coming out of his mouth. “I'll see you in hell you scum before I'll surrender to the likes of you!” He was beyond losing it. The Marines had cut his people to shreds.
“You've lost Zimmer, you just haven't seen it,” Valenko said as if explaining it to a child.
“We'll see about that. Come any further into this station and I'll... I'll detonate it. She'll be a thousand kilometers of debris by the time I'm through!” he snarled and then laughed. He cut the channel.
Valenko frowned and then sent a copy of the recording of the conversation to Firefly. Wiser heads then his had to be brought in on this.
...*...*...*...*...
“Can he do that?” the Captain demanded, looking at her staff.
“No idea Ma'am. We have to assume he can.”
“Well, we better damn well find out! Now people!” the Captain growled.
“We can't tell if he's bluffing or not. We can't see any fusion weapons with the station's reactors functioning, they just block out the neutrinos. We're getting so many false targets from all the micro fusion reactors as well, don't get me started on fissionables,” the Veraxin sensor officer chittered.
“Can you narrow it down at all?” Shelby asked.
“No. Which is a problem.”
“Can we hit them? Use our grasers to punch holes into the station and kill large pockets of them?” Purple Thorn asked.
“It's possible, but also possible that we could hit something vital and kill a lot of people. And we wouldn't know if they really had a weapon until they used it.”
Captain Mayweather wanted to use a graser for surgical strikes to take out the pirate leader or large pockets of pirates near the surface of the station.
“We'll get it done Captain,” the 'Major' Pendeckle informed her softly. She turned to look at him. “He's bluffing, he doesn't have a weapon. His boss wouldn't have sent him in to secure the station with a nuke, that's stupid. They wanted that station intact remember? It's all a bluff to buy time. For what I don't know.”
“So what do we do?”
“My people do what they do best. We'll go in there and dig them out. The hard way. We can't afford civilian casualties.”
“But...”
“Marines know the risks Captain. We'll soak up the damage. I've got the other ships companies on standby, as soon as we can, I'd like to pull some of them off and then send them in to reinforce Valenko.”
“But the bomb... if there really is one we'd be dooming a lot of people,” Purple Thorn said.
“And I'm saying there isn't one. He's nuts. No we'll get it done ma'am. Just let us take our turn,” the 'Major' said, looking at the Captain. “It's what we do,” he explained to her. “It's our turn to do our job and your turn to sit on the sidelines ma'am.”
“I hate being a cheerleader,” the Captain grumbled.
“Darn. I thought you looked good in a uniform,” the 'Major' said absently. The Captain glared at him but he ignored it and got back to work with his staff.
“Sometimes we just have to trust our people to get in and get the job done. They'll do it or die trying,” Shelby murmured to her Captain. The Captain nodded, eyes troubled. She knew the odds were long.
...*...*...*...*...
Now that Kennet had given away the location of the command center, Zimmer had dispatched two squads to secure it and kill the cybers. He knew the only way to get off the station was to seize it by the throat fast, no more pussy footing around. It was a race to get to the command center first.
He didn't know what had happened to his erstwhile Benedict Arnold, nor did he care. He'd find a way to win this without help.
...*...*...*...*...
When Jethro was certain he was close to a pocket of enemy moving to his objective, he stowed the rifle. He broke it down into four parts and then stowed each in a compartment in the armor. Then he crouched on all fours and relaxed. His breathing slowed and he entered the cloak. A moment later his suit did as well.
He was tempted to get in ahead of them but he knew they were expecting resistance from the front. They probably had eyes on their rear and flanks too, so he had to get cute. He looked up to the ceiling. Perfect. His tail lashed and then he leapt. His claws dug into the supports holding the false ceiling together. He heard a mild groan, the hangers really weren't designed to hold his sort of weight. He dropped to the deck once more, rolling in the air to hit on all fours, then bounded forward. It would work, but he'd have to be careful on how he did it. An airlock would work best.
...*...*...*...*...
Private Nap nervously looked around as he moved, trying to keep his head and not shake like an idiot. “Move!” the Sergeant snarled behind him. He gulped, moving forward. He was stuck on point, he'd trade any position for this. He had no choice, the cold bastard behind him would shoot him without even thinking if he refused. He made it to a junction and paused, looking left, then right, then left again before he moved forward. He heard a sound to the left and froze, holding a fist up. He looked to the left but didn't see anything. He frowned and then waved forward, moving out again.
...*...*...*...*...
Jethro didn't dare let out a sigh of relief as the point paused and then passed. He could have done this on the ground, but he knew the stealth wasn't quite perfect. Good yes, but not perfect. The trick was to not be where your enemy usually looked. Ground and eye level were two such places. Which was why he was pressed tightly to the ceiling, waiting for the first squad to pass.
When a dozen men had made it past, one stopped and yanked another by the scruff. He pointed to the intersection. The kid nodded and then crouched, holding his shot gun in front of him pointed to the right. He scanned the left and right, waiting for the rear squad to catch up.
Jethro noted the kid was in some sort of armor, an exosuit of struts and motors much like an ancient suit from the twentieth century. Crude, but apparently effective. It had some armor tacked to it, a pirate's cross bones on the chest and a heart with a number four there as well, but it all smacked of improvisation.
The Horathian's had a mix of weapons, Gauss rifles were the most common. A few had shotguns like the private, a couple others had salvaged Federation weapons. Two had crew service plasma rifles attached to their E-frames.
The point for the second squad met up with him. Jethro's eyes narrowed. This guy had a skin suit on, one that had armor applied. It must be heavy, but the big human wore it comfortably. The guy behind him had the hips, torso, and lower limbs of a militia powered armor, but it lacked arms. His arms were bare, just bare skinsuited arms sticking out holding his weapon. It had a space suit helmet on, one with a Mohawk and a pair of Mickey mouse lights on top. The armor was crude, some of it militia grade, but it's more than he expected. This was definitely going to get interesting.
Two more men followed, then an officer. He could tell because the man had gold pips on his collar and was urging his men to move faster 'or else'. Unfortunately for the officer he'd disdained one of the crude suits for a camouflaged suit. The green suit made him stand out in the gray corridor. Jethro crept closer until he was above the men. Then he dropped, striking hard.
His claws raked into the back of the human, and his falling weight dropped the human onto his face. Jethro reached out to the stunned guard and rammed a fist through his chest, then turned and raked his claws against another unarmored human. The man went down wit
h his throat and face tore up, but the arterial spray hit the cloaked panther.
“What the hell is it?!” the Horathians shrieked.
“Who cares! Shoot it! Shoot!” the Sergeant said, looking back. Jethro crouched and snapped the officers neck as he yanked his right fist out of the dead guard. He saw the Horathian's level their weapons in his direction and thought he was safe. He growled, crouching low, but his eyes widened when his suit hesitated and the rifle barrels tracked him. The muzzle flash made him yowl in surprise, throwing himself to one side behind the still falling corpse of the guard. His vision caught sight of his blood soaked arm and he sore vilely at his inattention to detail.
He rolled the body out in front of him then ducked into the passage. Horathian's followed so he bounded on all fours to the next cross section, zig zagging and even running on the walls and ceiling to throw off their aim. When he was out of sight he shook himself, then carefully checked his status. No hits, and he was at three quarter power. He took a grenade out of a pouch and pulled the pin. He counted a three count then lobbed it back the way he had come. He heard someone scream grenade then the shrapnel grenade went off. He threw another one, this one a smoke grenade, but didn't trigger it. Instead he took a rag out and wiped the blood off his armor. He scowled. The blood wasn't coming all the way off, in some places it was smearing. Not good. He needed a shower. It would have to do. He triggered the smoke grenade and then turned, dropped low and rounded the corner, getting back into the fight.
During the combat he realized something in the armor was at first fighting his efforts and then helping him. His lower back hurt like hell. “What a time for this,” he muttered, trying to keep his head in the game. He'd killed three of the twenty four, now as he made it back to their lines his enhanced strength sliced a fourth's leg out from under him, then he was up and slashing at a fifth before the other went down.
He could feel a presence in the computer and in his mind, something that had not been there but was now there but wasn't quite awake. His deactivated shields came online on their own to shrug off another hit.
Jethro: First to Fight Page 69
