“They're setting up quite a reception committee for us,” Scott said, gesturing at the squadrons. “And for the escorts, as well, out at the moon. They've still got an hour to get ready.”
“All true,” he replied.
“You really think we can pull this off, sir?” Weitzman asked, turning from his station.
“I think, Spaceman, that the Battlecruiser Alamo has never failed to complete a mission yet, and I'm certain that this isn't going to be the time that we let everyone down. There are a lot of people counting on us to make this work, and that's precisely what we're going to do. We've had a setback, but we've come back from worse.” Looking around the bridge, he said, “I don't want any more talk of failure or defeat, people. We're going to win this, and we're going to win big.”
Stepping through the door, Nelyubov said, “Not a bad speech, Captain Salazar.”
Flashing a smile, Salazar replied, “It's true, sir. Or at least, it will be, in a little over an hour from now.” Glancing at his watch, he said, “I'd better go and brief the fighter pilots. See if I can temper their enthusiasm a little.”
“With particular reference to Sub-Lieutenant Murphy, I suspect,” Nelyubov replied. “Just make sure you're back up on the bridge in time for the battle. I'm going to need you up here when everything starts to go to hell.”
“That was about three hours ago, wasn't it, sir?” Scott said.
“Mind your station, Sub-Lieutenant,” he replied with mock severity. “And get yourself ready for the biggest battle you've ever fought. The party begins in sixty-two minutes, and we don't want to be late to the dance.”
Chapter 16
“Just over an hour, Major,” the technician reported, leaning out of the shuttle. Cooper shook his head, looking out at the darkening plain, the sun dipping below the horizon. Points of light were drifting towards them, vehicles streaming from the Xandari base to their location. Standing next to him, Kelot frowned, peering into the gloom through binoculars.
“They aren't going to wait, are they,” the Neander said. “Not if they know that we've got help on the way. As soon as they can get enough strength together, they'll attack.” Peering through his binoculars, he said, “Figure half an hour at the most, and that's being optimistic.”
“We've still got the shuttles,” Hunt said. “Maybe we should think about moving out.”
“No,” Bradley replied, leaning on a crutch. “Take my word for it, Sergeant. If you want us to be able to link up with the fleet when it swings past, we don't have fuel for any more hops. It's going to be tough as it is. Those ships are moving fast.” Shaking her head, she added, “I'd love to know who came up with the crazy idea of a cometary slingshot.”
“I think I can guess,” Cooper said. “We've just got to find a way to buy the time we need.”
“It'll take them five minutes at most to overrun our defenses,” Hunt said. “And all they need to do is set up some mortars again, and we'll never even get off the ground. Hell, those plasma cannons have a range of more than a mile. They'll be able to take down anything that launches, no problem.” Frowning, he added, “There's got to be something we can do to slow them up.”
“There is,” Cooper replied, turning to the buggy. “Corporal, how are you doing with that beast of yours? Managed to figure out the controls yet?”
“I think so, sir,” he said, leaning on the weapon. “Though I haven't done any live fire tests. We can't recharge it when it runs out of power. None of the connectors will work, and we haven't got the time to improvise anything.”
“How many shots, then?”
“My guess would be about a dozen, Major, but that's all it is.”
“Wait a minute,” Bradley said, grabbing Cooper's arm. “You're going to attack them? With one buggy on half-charge, and no clear idea about whether it will work or not?”
“That's the basic idea,” he replied. “Hunt, I'm going to need four volunteers...”
“I'm in,” Rhodes said, interrupting him.
“Somehow, I don't think we'll have trouble finding them,” Hunt replied. “What's the idea?”
“Cause maximum hell at the bottom of the pass. If we can block that passage, we should be able to hold them up for a while, force them to work their way around and deny them their heavy artillery. That's worth sacrificing the plasma cannon for.”
“Geologic warfare,” Kelot said, nodding. “I like it.”
“I don't,” Bradley replied. “By now they're bound to have forward scouts moving into position. Probably with chameleon suits. We've still got no way to spot their infiltrators.”
“All true, but we don't have much of a choice.” He pulled out his plasma pistol, and said, “Sergeant, I presume you still remember your demolitions training?”
“Like it was yesterday, sir.”
“Then you'll be responsible for setting the charges, while the rest of us provide you with cover. Go get what you need, and remember that there is no such thing as overkill. I don't care if you rip the mountain in two, as long as you buy us some time.”
“Some of those buggies are getting pretty close, sir,” Rhodes said. “I'd say the first group will reach the base of the pass in less than ten minutes.” Swinging the cannon around, he continued, “Recommend we go in all guns blazing, sir.”
“That's essentially what I had in mind, Corporal,” Cooper replied, moving to the driver's seat, settling his hands on the steering wheel.
“You sure you don't want me to drive?” Kelot asked, dropping into the rear, pistol in hand.
“Don't worry, General, I'm pretty sure I know what I'm doing.”
“You're filling me with confidence, Gabe.”
“Volunteers, sir,” Hunt said, climbing onto the back of the buggy with a holdall in hand, followed by Martinez and Faulkner, both of them with rifles in hand and plasma pistols at their belt. Rhodes strapped himself to the plasma cannon, clutching onto the firing handles, and Cooper gunned the engine, smiling at the thundering roar.
“Wolmar,” he said, looking around. “You're in charge while we're gone. Rustle up a squad and have them ready, in case we need reinforcements. And keep trying to contact Alamo. I think I can guess what they've got in mind, but it would be nice to know for certain.”
“Aye, sir,” Wolmar replied. “Good luck, sir.”
“Thanks, Sergeant,” Cooper said, throwing the buggy into gear and sending it careening down the hill, juddering over the bumps and dips in the narrow path. The engine rumbled in protest as he slid from side to side, sending cascades of loose rocks falling ahead of them, Rhodes almost thrown from his feet, struggling to hold onto his weapon.
“Start the charging sequence, Corporal,” Cooper ordered, knuckles white on the wheel. “If you get a good shot, don't wait for the order. Take it. That goes for everyone.”
Kelot pulled out his pistol, and replied, “Not the best firing platform, Major!”
The buggy swung around a corner, two of the wheels lifting from the ground, and Cooper wrestled with the controls in a desperate bid to keep the vehicle stable, smiling despite the severity of the situation they were in.
“I've got to get one of these!” he yelled.
“Just don't wreck this one,” Kelot replied. Up ahead, they could hear more engines, roaring towards them from the plain, searchlights from the approaching enemy forces swinging around, briefly blinding them as they flashed across their eyes. A low whine whistled through the air, and Cooper swung the buggy to the side, just in time to avoid the explosion of a mortar blast, almost in their path.
“Damn, that was close!” Hunt said. “They must have someone providing forward observation, out in those rocks.”
“Faulkner, Martinez, get out and go hunting. If they're able to call the fire down on us, it won't be long before those shells are raining down on the camp. Find the bastard and take him down.”
“I've got this beast charged, sir!” Rhodes said. “Ready to fire when we get a target.”
“We hope,” Kelot added. Without warning, he raised his rifle, firing a long burst to the side, a figure tumbling from the rocks, almost dropping into the path of the buggy. “Got one.”
“They're probably scattered all through these hills,” Rhodes said. He squinted into the gloom, then said, “Down on the plain, sir! I see three buggies, heading our way.” Lining up the cannon, he continued, “Hold on! I'm not sure what will happen when I pull the trigger.”
“I know what will happen if you don't, Corporal!” Cooper replied.
A ripple of purple flame burst from the mouth of the cannon, flying over the heads of Cooper and Kelot, close enough that they felt the heat on the back of their necks, then slamming into the ground between the three enemy vehicles, still half a mile distant. Smoke and flame filled the air, obscuring the Xandari buggies for a few seconds, and when the smoke started to clear, only tangled wreckage and jagged metal remained.
“Score one for the good guys!” Rhodes said. “Though that seems to have soaked up a lot of my power. I think I know where the fire selector is now, though.” Red-faced, he continued, “I thought that was the lowest setting, sir.”
“Whatever you did,” Cooper said, rubbing the back of his neck, “Do the opposite next time. I don't know if I can take another burst that big.”
“Up there,” Kelot said. “That outcropping. I don't think we're going to find a better place to hide.”
“Sergeant?” Cooper asked, turning to the rear compartment. “You think you can work your magic here?”
“Can do, sir,” Hunt replied, climbing over the side, tossing his bags roughly to the ground. “Just keep the bastards off me for a few minutes, and I'll have a rockslide the like of which you've never seen.”
“I'll hold you to that, Sergeant,” Cooper said, jumping down to the dirt, pistol in hand, while Kelot clambered after him. He raced towards a nearby outcrop, diving down to the ground just as a bullet flew through the air, narrowly missing his head, and peered at the plain. Troops were streaming forward now, trucks already in position below, carefully positioned to avoid fire from the plasma cannon.
Leaning to the right, Cooper risked a quick burst, answered with a fusillade of shots from the approaching Xandari. By his side, Kelot tugged a grenade out of his belt, pulling the pin and bowling it down the slope towards the enemy, the consequent explosion sending shards of rock flying in all directions, smoke filling the air.
Looking back at Hunt, Cooper quickly watched as the veteran started to place his charges, sliding them into the cracks between the rocks, linking them up with cables to the detonator in his hand. With all the interference, they couldn't even trust the remote links. Today they were going to have to do this the old-fashioned way.
High above them, he saw an explosion, a flash of green flame followed by a shattering roar. One of the troopers he'd left behind, dealing with the enemy forward observer. Fumbling for his binoculars, Cooper saw a row of mortars at the rear, behind the still-advancing troops, gun crews working to prepare them for action.
“Rhodes!” he yelled. “Get that artillery.”
“Yes, sir! Fire in the hole!”
Another burst of energy surged through the air above them, passing over the enemy forces and slamming into the heart of the mortar formation, the cries of the dying echoing across the battlefield as molten slag replaced deadly weapon. Kelot fired another burst of rifle fire at the advancing troops, forcing them to take brief cover, before crashing to the ground with blood streaming from his arm.
“Sniper,” he spat, gesturing with his head to the rocks on the left. “Get the bastard.”
Cooper turned, plasma pistol in hand, trying to spot their hidden assailant, as a second shot cracked into the rock beside him, missing his shoulder by inches. At last he caught a trace of movement, pebbles falling from the rocks, and unleashed a green bolt of his own in the direction of the target, the explosion tearing into the ground.
“You get him?” Kelot asked, tugging at the medical kit.
“Not sure,” Cooper replied. “I guess we'll find out soon enough. Can you walk?”
“Sure. Give me some covering fire.”
Reaching up, Cooper fired a pair of quick bursts, pinning down the enemy long enough for Kelot to stumble back up the hill, moving into the safety of cover. Hunt was still busily working with his charges, placing them where they would do the most good, unleash the most misery.
“Fire in the hole!” Rhodes said, tugging the trigger again, sending another bolt down the slope, into the heart of the advancing forces. Somehow, they must have realized the danger they were in, scurrying for cover an instant before impact, instinct saving a dozen lives. The smoldering crater blocked their advance for a brief moment, but soon they continued their steady approach, half of the enemy formation moving into cover to rain suppressing fire down upon them, supporting the advance of the rest.
“Now they get smart,” Cooper said, shaking his head. “How long, Sergeant?”
“Nearly there, sir,” Hunt replied. “Four more charges, and I should be able to bring down the whole slope.” He frowned, then added, “You realize this doesn't leave us with any means of escape, sir? We'd never get the wounded over the rocks.”
“Little late to worry about that now,” Cooper said, shaking his head, firing another burst that triggered a thundering blast of automatic fire from the forces below.
Two more blasts echoed from the plasma cannon, followed by an embarrassing clunk and a series of curses from Rhodes, the trooper stabbing at controls in a desperate bid to make the cannon respond to his commands.
“We're out, sir!” he said, dropping down and running to crouch besides Cooper. “Nothing left in the tank. I think that first burst must have drained more of the charge than I thought.”
“Never mind, Corporal,” Cooper said, looking at the devastation below. “I think we've done enough for the moment. Sergeant, now would be a good time!”
“All set, Major!” Hunt replied. “Get out of here, and I'll set off the charges.”
“Not on your life, Sergeant,” Cooper said, sprinting towards him. “You two get moving. I'll give you fifteen seconds before I hit the button. What time delay did you set?”
“Twenty,” Hunt replied, tossing him the detonator. “Move quickly, sir.”
He and Rhodes sprinted up the slope, gunfire slamming into the ground by their side as they weaved from left to right, while Cooper, his back to the buggy, counted down the seconds in his head, his finger over the control. Behind him, the enemy were cautiously advancing towards him, doubtless suspecting that they were walking into an ambush.
Tapping the button, he tossed the detonator away, racing up the hill, his feet slipping on the uneven ground as he struggled to remain upright, knowing that any delay would cost him his life. On either side, bullets cracked past him, close enough for him to feel the rush of air past his ear, and a plasma ball slammed into the dirt to his left, the wall of heat almost sending him tumbling.
“Fifteen, one thousand, fourteen, one thousand,” he muttered to himself, trying to keep track of the time as he ran for safety, the waving figures of the rest of the attack force waiting for him at the top. “Nine, one thousand, eight, one thousand.” On he raced, his boots digging into the dirt, no longer concerned about the gunfire from behind him, only the explosion he was attempting to outpace. Hunt had used almost every charge they had brought with them from Alamo. This was going to be big, of that he was certain.
He still wasn't prepared for the thunderous explos
ion, the blast wave throwing him to the ground as dust soared into the air, thick, acrid smoke gushing from the cliffside that cascaded down the trail. Wiping the grit from his eyes, he turned to see a black cloud rising from the ruined slope, listening to the tumbling rockslide slamming into the advancing troops, rippling explosions where charge packs and grenades erupted.
“Not bad, Sergeant,” Cooper said, struggling to clamber to his feet. “Not bad at all.”
Rhodes shook his head, and added, “Remind me to sign up for advanced demolitions training when we get back. I'd like to play with those toys sometime.”
Glancing at his watch, Cooper turned to the slope, and said, “Given that we seem to have lost our ride, we'd better start back for the camp. With a little luck, in less than an hour, we'll be on our way off this rock.” Another explosion roared, and he added, “I think we've given the Xandari something to think about.”
“They'll still be coming, sir,” Hunt said. “This is only going to hold them up, and not for long.”
“Fifty-eight minutes from now, they can have this place back with my blessing,” Cooper replied. “As long as they leave us alone until then. Come on, people. On the double.”
Chapter 17
Salazar walked into the crew room and looked around at the three remaining pilots, the remnants of the squadron he had commanded when they'd originally arrived at the Xandari homeworld. It seemed as though an eternity had passed since then, and he found it hard to believe that it had been less than six hours. Certainly the look on the faces of Cartwright, Ryan and Murphy told that tale, defiance and terror displayed in equal measure.
Moving to the podium, Salazar briefly looked at the hastily-prepared tactical display behind him, then flicked it off with the touch of a button, surprise registering on the faces of the pilots. He pushed the podium away, walked across the cold metal of the floor, and snatched one of the vacant chairs, before sitting down in front of them.
Battlecruiser Alamo: Final Orbit Page 15
