Angelika used her security card to open the administrative building’s lobby door once more. Just inside the small alcove, a lone Sanissaric—the one who had covered the team on their journey here—was still laying down cover fire. Rothchild watched as the skillful marksmen took out three of Krador’s men, each with a single shot, in less than ten seconds.
“Not bad for a heathen,” Angelika whispered to the captain.
He turned to her with a smirk. “I withdraw my earlier remark.”
Chapter 17
When Fleming and his team had dashed from the lobby of the administrative building, Angelika quickly sealed the doors shut. Taking her communicator from her pocket, she tried to reach Ah’J Maboda. In the brief moment she had to scan the battle outside, she didn’t see him atop the outer wall where he had last been. Hopefully he’s still alive.
There was a burst of static in the receiver. It didn’t give Angelika any hope. Then Maboda’s signature dark voice came over the frequency loud and clear.
“Agent Angelika Jordan. I take it you have been successful.”
“Glad you’re still with us, Maboda,” she said, barely able to hide her elation.
“And where else would I be?” he replied triumphantly. “Today is the day of Inanna for my people. Today is the day for freedom!”
Rothchild looked at her in confusion. “Is he always like this?”
Angelika shrugged. “Only when it comes to the emancipation of his species, as far as I can tell.” She then addressed Maboda. “Ah’J, the exterior security systems are offline. Krador’s forces have been locked in their buildings, but they still have windows they can fire from. Get your people through the main gate and in here as soon as possible.”
“Understood.” With that, Maboda signed off the communications channel.
Rothchild looked concerned. “What about Krador’s people outside the gate?”
“There’s only a small contingent, and they’re trapped outside.”
“But they’ve got hover tanks, right?” Rothchild said with alarm. “The Sanissaric will be pummeled.”
“Krador has tanks, we have Kinetics.” She then turned to face him, smiled, and placed a finger against the center of his smudged forehead. “Mind over matter, Captain.”
Rothchild beamed. “They’ve already been taken care of, haven’t they?”
Angelika nodded. “They should have been within the first few minutes of the battle. A simple suggestion implanted into each of the tank commanders’ minds that the other was a Sector Command hover tank. I’m sure the point-blank battle didn’t last long. The Sanissaric will easily be able to clean up what’s left on their way in.”
“Fair enough,” Rothchild chuckled. “What about us?”
Angelica scanned the area once more. “You, my dear Captain, have a call to make.”
“And you?”
Angelika’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve got to go see an admiral about a little retribution.”
* * *
“Vannik, we’re under attack! We need support now!” Krador screamed in near panic, his image wavering and interlaced with static.
The Jidoan, his eyes wide in fear, looked down at the communication terminal on the bridge of the Eximer, unsure of a proper response.
“Admiral, I’m trying to send two squads of troops down to the surface now, but nothing seems to be working.”
The admiral, his face drenched in sweat, was not amused. “What do you mean? What isn’t working?”
“Every time I try to initiate the launch sequence for the transports, something else happens. The first time, the water treatment plants went offline. The second time I tried, all the weapon and propulsion systems went offline.” Vannik looked around nervously at the scurrying crewmen trying to get the Eximer back under control. They looked just as lost as he felt. “You don’t want to know what happened the last time we tried.”
“Tell me!” Krador bellowed, the sweat on his face flying as he shook a clenched fist at the screen.
Vannik eyed Krador, unsure of how he could spin the latest disaster to make it sound any better than it really was. Failing to come up with the right words in the few seconds afforded him, he simply stated what had transpired. “Well, sir, all the waste tanks on deck eight went into reverse purge. I’m not at all certain how it happened, but the entire deck is covered in three feet of—”
“Enough!” Krador screamed. “I don’t care how you do it, Vannik. Push the shuttles out of the launch bays if you have to, just get some support down here now! Get the Vindicator and the Adversary to send men down if necessary!”
“It’s not just the Eximer,” Vannik pleaded. “All the ships are experiencing similar faults. The Vindicator’s power grid is offline, and it’s snowing on the Adversary’s bridge! The only ships still capable of rendering any assistance are three of the small patrol vessels, and they are incapable of traversing the planet’s atmosphere.”
Vannik watched as Krador slammed his fist into the side of the console. “Where is Captain Taylor?”
Taylor, the Eximer’s acting commanding officer in Krador’s absence, all but pushed Vannik aside as he stepped to the console. “Here, Admiral. What’s happening down there, sir? You look as if you’ve been trapped in a sauna.”
“Captain, we’ve been sabotaged!” Krador screamed as a fresh wave of sweat dripped down his face. “It must be the Jidoans! I should never have trusted those accursed creatures. Send out a fleetwide broadcast to all ships: I want every Jidoan rounded up and executed immediately!”
“Yes, sir.”
“Executed?” Vannik cried from behind Taylor. “You can’t do that!”
Krador’s eyes never left Taylor’s. “Captain, you have your orders. Start with that sniveling weasel behind you. Once that’s done, I want you to personally take charge of getting me off this planet. Have the rest of your men get the Eximer attack-ready. I’ll lay waste to this entire planet if I have to!”
“Orbital bombardment?” Taylor asked with a note of sadistic satisfaction.
“Get me off this planet and get it done, Captain. Krador out.”
When the screen had gone bank, Taylor turned to Vannik. The Jidoan, the most influential member of his own species a few moments ago, was now a groveling heap held upright by two of the Eximer’s security personnel.
“Your sidearm, Sergeant,” Taylor said without emotion to the man holding Vannik’s left arm. The security officer instantly complied, withdrawing his pistol and tossing it to Taylor.
“No! No, please!” Vannik cried.
Taylor chambered a single round and wasted no time in carrying out Krador’s order. The two men dropped Vannik’s now-dead body to the deck and stood at attention before Taylor.
Taylor tossed the weapon back to the Sergeant. “Get that disgusting thing off my bridge.”
* * *
Four guards were posted just outside the communications center’s door. Captain Rothchild, hidden behind the last turn in the hallway, checked the charges on his two side arms. Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew a laser grenade and a palm-sized stun emitter. The grenade, he knew, could cause unacceptable damage to the sensitive communications equipment, but the stun emitter wouldn’t be powerful enough to eliminate all four men. Forming a quick plan, he activated the time-delayed emitter and tossed it down the corridor at the men.
Strong enough to render a full-grown human unconscious for a few hours, the field that was produced disbursed evenly among the men. The weakened field sent a mild shock through their systems—not enough to immobilize them, but definitely strong enough to get their attention.
Bewildered, three of the four men lunged for Rothchild’s position. As they rounded the corner they were presented with an empty hallway. They stepped cautiously down the corridor, checking that each door they were presented with was locked. As they reached the final door that would take them into the lobby, the doors slid open. A small object was tossed in their direction before the door once again cl
osed.
Crouching down in the lobby, Rothchild noted that it was only a second before the grenade exploded. The two metal doors fragmented into several large chunks that flew past the captain, once piece missing his head by only a few inches. When the smoke cleared a moment later, he made his way into the remains of the passageway. Stepping over debris and human remains, he made his way back to the communications center in as efficient a manner as possible.
“Quick,” the captain yelled before he rounded the final corner. “Unified Marines are right behind me! Wait until I’m clear before you open fire.”
Not breaking his stride, Rothchild rounded the corner with his blaster held high. The guard, doing as he was instructed, didn’t realize Rothchild’s intentions until it was too late. The captain dispatched him with two well-placed shots and reached for his access card. Trying it at the door, he received an audible reply telling him his access was denied.
He reached into his pocket once more and withdrew a communications device. “Jordan, the communications center door is locked!”
Angelika’s voice came back over the speaker a moment later and gave the captain a series of numbers. “Enter it into the keypad. Copy?”
Tossing the useless access card aside, Rothchild quickly entered the code. The single door slid into its alcove without further distress. “Thanks.”
“That code will get you access to anything you need. Remember it, Captain. You’ll probably need it to open a secure communications channel.”
“Understood,” he replied, then stepped with care into the compartment.
The communications room looked very well equipped. There was a large viewing screen on the far wall. Taking up the left wall was the planetary data network interface, which allowed Krador and his people access to the Jidoan’s native computer systems. On the right wall was the bulky, long-range communications transceiver relay. Pulling up a chair beside one of the two operator consoles, Rothchild was, for once, glad that Krador had stolen most of his technology from Sector Command. They layout was almost exactly like the one set up on the Tripoli. With his fingers poised over the controls, Rothchild felt a pang of sorrow as the memories of his fallen comrades crossed his mind. Knowing that his ensuing actions would, in some small way, vindicate their sacrifices, he entered in the passcode that Angelika had provided him, then sent out a wideband distress call toward the last known location of the nearest Sector Command warship.
* * *
At the end of hallway, about forty feet away, Angelika could see a solitary guard stationed near the magnetic lift door. His weapon was slung tightly over his shoulder, and she watched as his eyes scanned down the hallway in the opposite direction. Before his head moved to her direction, she ducked back into the doorway she’d previously jammed open. Taking out a small, pin-sized camera, she placed it on the floor and slid it just outside the doorway. Accessing the image data on her wrist computer, she watched as the guard’s head moved to and fro as he scanned the area. Taking out her weapon with her free hand, she waited until his attention wasn’t in her direction before she attacked.
Leaping from the doorway, she barreled toward the man at full speed. His reaction time was impressive: he’d managed to unshoulder his rifle and aim in her general direction before she got off the first round. She had the upper hand the whole time; both of her rounds perforated the guard’s chest and threw him against the wall and out of the way of the lift. Not bothering to check his vital signs, she requested that the lift take her to the second floor—and to Maros Krador.
When the doors opened on the second level, Angelika was met with silence—and an almost unbearable heat wave, thanks to her earlier manipulation of the climate controls. She was in another lobby, not unlike the one at the entrance to the building. This level was had been mostly unknown to Ah’J Maboda when he had planned this mission, as Ru’olf Vannik was the only Jidoan allowed on this floor. All that Maboda did know was that somewhere up here, Krador had his personal office. Whether he was still in that office or not was a mystery only Angelika could solve. She reached for her communicator and entered the code that would bring up Maboda.
“Ah’J, status?”
“The assault is well underway,” he said, imperturbable. “The bulk of the Sanissaric have penetrated the perimeter wall and have amassed on the north side of the base. We control the motor pool and the shuttle landing area, but Krador’s people are still in decisive control of the southern half of the area.”
“Numbers?” she asked.
Maboda let out a soft grunt before answering. “At this point, I would wager to say they are even. Krador has a more sizeable fighting force, but his men lack the discipline and training of the Sanissaric. Considering we now control all their heavy battle equipment, it is only a matter of time until we prevail. That is, of course, as long as Krador doesn’t order his orbiting ships to open fire.”
“I’m working on that. Is there any way you can tell if Krador is still up here on the second level?”
“Not precisely. I can tell you that many of the Kinetics here are actively probing, making sure no one escapes the complex. Krador has not moved within a hundred feet of a Kinetic at this point. Considering the sheer number of Jidoans on the ground now, he must still be near you…somewhere.”
“We’ve sent out a communication to the nearest Sector Command warship, but I haven’t heard from Rothchild since then. There’s no telling how far away they are.”
“Or if they are coming at all.”
Angelika smirked. “Have a little faith, Ah’J. Isn’t that what the Sanissaric are all about?”
There was another grunt of acknowledgment from the Jidoan before he signed off the channel.
There were hallways in four different directions, and Angelika had no idea which way led to Krador’s office. None of the passages were marked, and every door was closed. Deciding on a course of action, she turned down the hallway on her right, coming to a T-intersection a few moments later.
Before her was a set of closed, semi-transparent doors leading to a large briefing room which looked as if it hadn’t been used recently. Turning left, she entered what appeared to be a small laboratory. She could hear several rack-mounted computers in the far corner, and the three tables in the center of the room were covered with beakers and vials containing a variety of different-colored chemicals. Seeing nothing further, she opened a door on her immediate left.
Inside the room were four guards, dressed in a dark blue variant of the other guards’ uniforms. She recognized them from her initial briefing on Canis-Seven as the men usually seen surrounding Krador. Draped over their shoulders were thick white braids, and each was wearing a hat with a highly polished emblem. They were huddled near another door on the far side of the room. When they heard Angelika enter, their looks turned from astonishment to loathing in an instant.
They must be Krador’s personal guards, she thought.
The first bodyguard pulled his sidearm with lightning-fast efficiency, but Angelika fired first. Before his body even hit the floor, she quickly stepped back out the room and sealed the door once more. Running back through the lab and past the briefing room, she headed down another passageway. She caught the glint of gold out of the corner of her eyes, then stopped to see what the object was. It was an emblem, the same as the one that adorned the bodyguards’ ball caps.
Making sure her weapon was ready, she used her card to open the door. Stepping inside, she could see that this room was some sort of waiting room, a lobby for whatever or whoever was behind a set of wood-grain doors in the opposite wall. Checking the waiting area for signs of recent activity and finding none, she slowly walked to the two wooden doors. Sliding her card into the security slot, she could hear the doors unlock. Waiting for a cautious moment, she turned the shiny brass handle and pushed one of the doors open.
Before she could step inside, a bolt of high-powered energy zipped past her head, hitting the lobby wall behind her and bathing the area in a shower of s
parks. Angelika spun down and crouched behind the remaining closed door. Whatever had fired the first round had evidently thought of this strategy, and began firing several more rounds. The soft wood splintered after the first two shots, and Angelika quickly leapt behind a computer desk before the door completely disintegrated.
Angelika’s heart was beating mightily in her chest as she withdrew her second weapon. What remained of the wooden door was crackling and burning as pulverized wood dust floated all around her.
“I’d like to thank you, whoever you are,” a voice called out from the office beyond. “Because I plan on leaving this place by however you were able to get in.”
Angelika had heard the voice before, and she knew she had found her target. “Give it up, Krador. You’ve lost!”
“That’s one opinion, my dear. Would you like to hear another?”
There was a thud just on the other side of the desk Angelika was crouched behind, followed by the sound of something rolling across the carpet. She didn’t need to look at it to know it was a grenade. Leaping to her feet, she jumped back out into the hallway just before the device exploded. The force of the blast flung her through the open doorway and against a far wall hard enough to knock the wind out of her. Smelling the acrid stench of burnt wiring, Angelika tugged at the weapons she’d slung to her back. The explosion had fried their circuitry, and they were now utterly useless.
Stunned, she tossed the weapons aside, managing to get to her feet before Krador made it to her position. Staggering back to the magnetic lifts in the center of the floor, she aimed and fired both of her sidearms at the controls to one of the two lifts. She then activated the other, stepping inside just as another volley of energy rounds sprayed the walls beside her.
Chapter 18
Krador, his heavy rifle slung low on his hip, barreled toward the lifts as fast as he could, but the door closed just before he arrived. Seeing that the other lift was incapacitated, he frantically began pressing the lift control panel. The doors popped open and he quickly stepped inside, then pressed the control that would send the lift to the roof. Within ten seconds, he had arrived at his destination.
Traitor Winds - Kestrel Saga: Vol. 0 (Kestrel Saga - Origins) Page 18
