“Fall back?” Eilentes shouted.
“Fucking yes we fall back!”
They crawled forward a few metres until they were out of the line of sight from the ground, then ran for the opposite wall.
She heard the polybot crash over the edge of the roof before they had reached the far side, and brought her rifle up as she whirled around to face it.
The polybot looked as angry as any machine she had ever seen. It reared on its hind legs, taller than a person, and waved the remains of its other limbs in an intimidating display. Eilentes wondered if it had been programmed to scare the shit out of its enemies, or if this was something it had come up with all by itself.
Norskine opened up on it, and Eilentes followed her lead.
The polybot dropped flat, limbs out wide, and scuttled towards them. Most of the shots missed, slicing the air above it, and it was almost on them before it reared up again. The sharp, broken end of a front limb slashed past — a hair’s breadth from Norskine’s face — and Eilentes backed away until her legs hit the wall behind her.
Then the polybot seemed to get smaller and more distant.
Bruiser heaved, tugging on one of the polybot’s rear limbs, swung it around his body once, twice, and let go.
The polybot sailed through the air, spinning around in a clumsy cartwheel, and disappeared over the edge of the roof. Seconds later, the unmistakeable sound of breaking things came from the square far below.
Eilentes stowed her assault rifle, found her empty hands were trembling, and clasped them together.
“You okay?”
It was Caden’s voice. She looked around, and realised the others had all come to the roof.
“Just about.” She went to recover Ambrast.
“So. Many. Stairs.” Bro was wheezing, his hands on his knees.
“Told you before; get in the fucking gym,” Norskine said. But she still went over and placed her hand on his shoulder.
Throam nudged Caden’s arm. “We can’t stay here. It’s a death-trap. Even if they don’t follow us up, they’ll be arranging an air-strike.”
“I know, let’s get mov—“
The square rang with the rattle of large-calibre chain guns, and within seconds everyone on the roof was covering their ears.
Eilentes was already at the edge of the roof, and looked out across the space.
In the corner of the square where the Viskr had been waiting with their artillery, a Gorilla platform was filling the entire intersection. Beneath one of its huge metal fists were the shattered remains of a skulker. The Viskr machine — so capable of reducing a human to mincemeat in seconds — was nothing but scrap metal beneath the weight of the autonomous MAGA vehicle.
The platform dropped its shoulders and reoriented its chain guns. Eilentes covered her ears again, just in time to muffle the sound of thousands of rounds per minute, and watched the impacts rake through the platoon near the commerce hall. The Viskr crawlers tried to manoeuvre amongst their own troops, unable to retreat quickly enough, and one was shredded right before her eyes when the Gorilla’s rounds tore through it.
Eilentes felt the rooftop tremble beneath her feet, and looked to the east. Another Gorilla platform was entering the square, lumbering on its front arms and shorter, stockier rear drive limbs. The Viskr were being hemmed in.
The second Gorilla straightened its arms, raising its body, and fired off a series of shots from its ventral cannon. The rest of the crawlers were blown to pieces, knocking down their accompanying soldiers.
“Oh yeah, we’ve got the high ground all right,” she heard herself say.
— 11 —
Roll Out the Tanks
They were almost back on the ground floor when the entire building rattled with the force of a series of explosions. Dust fell through the stairwell, and beyond its thin walls Caden heard the shattering of a thousand window panes.
“What the hell was that?”
“Sounded like shelling,” said Daxon. “Almost on top of us.”
They hurried downwards, Bro’s voice the only sound on the group channel. He cursed each flight of stairs they descended.
“Oh hell,” said Caden, as he emerged cautiously from the stairwell on the ground floor.
Around him, he could see that all the windows had been blown in on the one side of the building facing out into the square. Most of the glass on the other side had been broken outwards by the force of the blast. The air hung thick with dust and smoke.
Partitions and desks were strewn across the floor, and he could see several small fires in amongst them. Flaming debris had been carried in by the explosion. Two of the pillar walls between the windows had collapsed inwards, spilling chunks of concrete on the ground, and the tall double doors were now smouldering fragments.
“Tell our passengers to go back up a few floors while we check this out,” Caden said.
He waited while the message was passed back to the civilians from the commerce hall. Despite half of them being Eyes and Ears operatives, and the other half the leaders of the city, not one of them had thought to rescue a link of their own before fleeing to their shelter.
“What a mess,” said Eilentes.
“I’m more worried about that.”
Caden pointed out into the square. In the far left corner, where the Viskr armour had stood just a half hour before, five polybots picked over the twisted wreck of a Gorilla platform. Smoking craters pitted the ground around it.
“They shelled the square,” said Daxon. “Making the most of their losses.”
Norskine moved up next to them. “Where’s the other Gorilla? There were two.”
“MAGA must have pulled it back,” said Caden. “No point losing two assets.”
“We should get out of here before those polybots hear us,” said Throam. “Don’t fancy being torn limb from limb today.”
“I hear that,” said Caden. He moved back to join the others.
Bro was straining to hear the expeditionary comm through his link. “Sounds like we’ve taken some heavy fire all around,” he said. “But air support is starting to turn the tide in our favour.”
“Still good on the el-zee?” Caden asked.
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure the landers are right where we left them.”
“Okay, then we go back the way we came. Simplest and quickest route. Someone go up and get the—”
“Think again,” Throam shouted, and pushed over a desk. “Cover!”
Caden saw the counterpart was already crouching behind the desk, with the top of it between his body and the windows which faced away from the square. He looked out through the broken panes and saw movement in the street beyond.
Caden had his back pressed against a concrete pillar just before the bullets started flying.
He risked a very brief glance, and instantly absorbed the situation. The street they had come down — the same one they were in when the fighter had crashed above them — was filled with Viskr ground troops. Over their heads, he had seen the shiny, circular rings of skulkers bringing up the rear.
“More problems here,” shouted Bruiser.
Caden looked straight out of the square-facing windows, the same windows to which he was completely exposed by his cover, and saw the polybots bounding towards the building.
“Oh fuck.”
“Contacts, both sides,” shouted Daxon. “Bruiser: facing rear. Take those polybots down. Everyone else: eyes front. Viskr have ranged weapons, take them first. Skulkers can wait.”
Ambrast was already loosing rounds, and Caden saw one Viskr after another falling to the ground. He could not even say where Eilentes was shooting from — she had found a hide somewhere without him even noticing she had moved away.
“Eilentes,” he said into his link. “Where are you?”
“Upstairs with your friends.” Another Viskr fell. “Five. Someone needs to look after them, right?”
Bruiser’s GPMG rattled continuously. The Rodori held it in both hands, lumberin
g casually out to the square through the empty doorway. One of the polybots collapsed before it was even a quarter of the way across the square. It tried to continue towards him, crawling on broken limbs, then shuddered and stopped moving.
“We need to keep them back from the junction,” shouted Daxon. “Keep it a sterile area. They get to this road in front of us, they can spread out.”
“Keep them in the funnel. Gotcha,” shouted Caden.
“Heads up,” Throam yelled. “Rocket.”
Caden ducked behind his pillar and watched as a rocket-propelled grenade whooshed past him and flew out into the square. It exploded low, against the side of the commerce hall.
Ambrast barked, and the soldier carrying the launcher went down.
Caden could see Bruiser outside the building, still firing at the remaining polybots. They were trying to outflank him, splitting into two groups, and he lost valuable time feeding in a fresh ammo belt.
“Bruiser, you good?” Caden shouted into his link.
“These polybots will reach me before I take them down,” he growled.
“Throam. Bruiser needs a hand.”
“You got it,” Throam said. He crawled towards the back windows, keeping low, ensuring he could not be seen from the street out front.
“Norskine,” Daxon said. “Take up the slack.”
Throam got to his feet, hunkered down, and went outside to join Bruiser.
“Best out of five,” he said.
“I already have one,” said the Rodori.
“I like a challenge,” said Throam. He mounted his mini-gun on its gauntlet, and gripped the firing bar. “Let’s play.”
Caden was deafened by a loud bang. He saw Throam being thrown forwards onto his face, and something sharp whizzed past Caden’s head and bit deep into the pillar.
• • •
“Another group of fighters, aft starboard.”
“Hold it together, Tactical,” said the XO. “They’ll give up with that soon. It’s simply not going to work.”
Thande watched the Viskr fighters blip out of existence on the main battle map, chewed up by the turrets on Disputer and the other ships which shared the flak shadow of her Guardian Shield. It was clear to her that the Viskr commanders were trying any mad scheme their battle computers suggested in their efforts to break through the Navy blockade.
How the tables have turned, she thought.
“What lines of sight do we have?”
Tactical smiled to herself. “Two frigates, three corvettes, one mid-frame cruiser.”
“Anyone local to us with the same lines?”
“Yes Ma’am, I believe both Fugue and Chivalrous will also have firing solutions.”
“COMOP; invite them to join us in a bombardment of that cruiser.”
“Yes Captain… they’re standing by.”
“Tactical: lasers on their point defence sensors, and hit them with our gauss guns.”
“Lighting them up, firing on rails.”
Thande felt the soft, almost gentle repercussive thumps of the port-side rail guns firing over and over. She knew that out in the black, the other two Imperial ships were doing exactly the same thing.
On the battle map, the hologram of the enemy cruiser began to pull to one side. The ship rolled its long axis, trying to narrow its profile to protect itself from damage.
Good luck with that, thought Thande. You’ve got incoming on three trajectories.
“Status on their turrets?”
“Over-capacity, Captain. They’re struggling to knock out our slugs.”
“Maintain salvoes, and fire off a ship-to-ship.”
An audible alert pipped twice, and she knew that several decks below them a missile had been loosed from a launch tube.
Seconds passed, then the holographic ship turned yellow. A data bracket around the cruiser showed it as an inert contact.
“Excellent work, Tactical. Now let’s hit those frigates.”
“Already working on it, Ma’am.”
“Captain,” said COMOP. “Message Stoic Actual. All enemy destroyers in the atmosphere have been shot down.”
“Excellent news. Air support will be much easier without those guns to worry about.”
“Incoming wreck!” Tactical shouted.
Thande snapped her attention back to the battle map and saw the danger immediately. The ruined hulk of a Viskr corvette barrelled straight towards the outer rim of their Guardian Shield.
“Helm, ready on evasive manoeuvres.”
“Ready Ma’am.”
“Impact in five seconds,” said Tactical.
The battle map showed the collision in real-time. It was soundless, and disregarded the inevitable debris, but Thande got a sense of the energy of the collision. The corvette concertinaed against the solid umbrella of the Shield, and she imagined it spraying out plumes of burning plasma and catapulting buckled hull plates into the darkness.
The great dish started to tip.
“Now, Helm! Move us now.”
“Evasive manoeuvres,” Helm said. “Yaw minus ten, pitch minus thirty-five, full reverse.”
“Arbiter reports contact with the stem,“ said COMOP. “Minor hull damage for them, but the Shield might not be able to reorient itself.”
“We’re clear, Captain. Still got eighty-five percent cover, not in danger of a collision.”
“What about the Arbiter?”
“They’re still fully in the flak shadow. I’m afraid we lost our firing solutions on those frigates.”
“Status of the Guardian Shield?” Asked Yuellen.
“It’s struggling to get back into position,” Tactical said. “It will get there, but we’re going to be vulnerable for a while. Down to fourteen percent exposure now.”
“Can you get us any better than that?”
“The ship is too big, Commander. One way or another, we’re going to have an end sticking out from the flak shadow.”
Thande was about to swear when the first hits struck them. The curse turned into a shout of alarm, and she tracked the shots back on the battle map.
“Targets here and here; they know our cover is compromised. Prioritise them.”
“Yes Ma’am. Locking what guns we have out there on them now.”
“The Chivalrous knows our situation, Captain,” said COMOP. “They’re firing on the targets too.”
“It’s not enough,” Tactical said. “They’re knocking our slugs down.”
“I’m requesting any other unit with a firing solution to come to our aid.”
“Usable turrets are at capacity,” said Tactical.
“They fire off a missile now, and we’re in trouble,” said Thande. “COMOP, where the hell is our support?”
“I’m trying, Captain. Everyone has problems of their own right now.”
“I have a spike!” Tactical shouted. “They’ve launched!”
“Helm, move us NOW!”
The helm officer had her hands at the controls, as if she had already decided to pull the same trick, and she fired a long burst from the ship’s conventional drives. Disputer crawled into the flack shadow, her stern disappearing beneath the angled dish of the Shield, and her prow emerging into the danger zone on the other side.
“Another spike,” Tactical said. “They’re onto us. First missile is a miss. Repeat, first missile is a miss.”
“Ready on turrets,” said Thande.
“First missile is doubling back.” Tactical’s hands flashed across her holo. Sweat began to bead on her forehead. “It’s a seeker.”
“It’s now within our defensive sphere,” said the XO. “Take it down.”
“Interceptors firing,” said Tactical.
“Arbiter has taken out the second missile, Captain,” COMOP said. “They’re telling me we have multiple incoming on our blind side.”
Thande considered this for a split second. Positioned as they were, there was no way the ship would be able to take down multiple missiles coming from the blind side
of the Shield. It simply could not be done.
“Helm, reorient us to match the Shield’s stem,” said Thande. “We won’t be able to contribute much, but we’ll be even less useful if we’re all dead.”
“Aye Captain, moving us now.”
The ship turned, angling itself into the shadow of the dish, taking up a position parallel to the Guardian’s drive stem.
Five missiles appeared at various points along the out-tilted edge of the dish, curving towards Disputer. They sailed through the space where the ship had been, then their trajectories began to bend back into the flak shadow.
“Turrets are locking on,” said Tactical. “This is going to be close.”
“Arbiter also has firing solutions,” said COMOP.
“Firing interceptors.”
One by one, the missiles vanished from the battle map. The last one was within a kilometre before it blinked out. Thande bit her lip.
Helm looked up from her holo. “Ma’am, the Shield has reoriented. We’re back in full shadow.”
“Thank goodness for that. Get us back into the fight.”
“Yes Captain. I’m moving us back to our original position.”
“Captain?”
“Go on, COMOP.”
“I’m… I’m getting some alarming reports from other ships. They say the Nakrikhul Srabir is heavily damaged, but it’s now on the move.”
“Why is that alarming?”
“Because they’ve turned their prow towards the planet,” said COMOP. “They’ve turned towards the planet, and they’re accelerating at hard burn.”
• • •
Caden’s ears were still ringing, but at least now he could hear the urgent yelling on the group channel.
He could see Throam moving on the ground, trying to get up. Bruiser was standing in front of him, spraying the polybots on his right with rounds. They skittered and leapt, one of them managing to avoid the fire, the other one taking it right in the face.
The other two were still coming, unopposed.
“Throam’s down,” he shouted. “Bruiser needs help.”
“You stop firing forwards, we’re gonna lose this position,” Daxon said.
Books One to Three Omnibus (Armada Wars) Page 43
