“Alpha, Sofia, give us some cover fire!”
The Drone-Mechs popped over the wing of a fighter near the hatch. Mini-Gauss rounds sprayed into the Drone-Mechs’ position, punching through metal and power armor. Two of the Drone-Mechs went down, and the other two took shelter. Now was Tag’s chance.
“Coren, on me!” Tag sprinted to another fighter then followed the length of a fallen catwalk. Coren’s footsteps echoed behind him.
The two remaining Drone-Mechs near the hatch burst up. They sent a wave of fire at Tag and Coren. Tag dove behind a chunk of broken metal, and Coren slid next to a crumpled piece of latticework. Pulsefire kicked up globs of slag around Coren. The Mechanic was pinned down, and two more Drone-Mechs were running across a catwalk. They’d have a perfect vantage point on Coren in a matter of seconds.
Tag tried to sight up the two Drone-Mechs on the catwalk, but they sprinted out of his line of fire. He needed a better angle. “Alpha! Sofia! I need more cover!”
A pair of affirmatives echoed over his comm link as a flurry of overhead shots convinced the Drone-Mechs by the hatch to hide again. Heart pounding, Tag sprinted for a new position behind what looked like a busted troop transport vessel. The flanks of the Drone-Mechs on the catwalk were now perfectly visible. They were so focused on Coren, Sofia, and Alpha that they had missed Tag. Knowing that he would only get one good salvo on them before they realized where he was, he sighted them up slowly, holding his breath and rocking his finger back gently over the trigger. A few well-placed slugs from the mini-Gauss riddled the Drone-Mechs’ suits and sent them toppling over the catwalk, their pained screams piercing the din of pulsefire in the expansive bay.
“Thanks!” Coren said.
Tag gave him a brief salute, still catching his breath from the running. The wound in his shoulder was starting to ache again. He knew adrenaline would only last so long, and he was surprised they’d fared as well as they had so far. It had been hell trying to take out the three Mech-Drones aboard the Argo. And now they were facing a whole dreadnought’s worth of hostile aliens.
The telltale rattle and scream of more pulsefire broke his thoughts. He wheeled around the transport and delivered another salvo over the catwalks almost blindly. Rounds pinged and cracked through steel pipes and latticework, then hatches opened at the ends of the catwalks. Two new squads of Drone-Mechs poured in. Tag refused to succumb to the dread threatening to swell in him at the sight of the reinforcements. His mind focused on the only thing that mattered: get Coren to the passageway. Then escort him to the terminal. Then finish these Drone-Mech assholes once and for all.
“Alpha and I are pinned down!” Sofia said.
Tag spied the glint of their EVA suits as they peeked over what looked like a hover forklift knocked on its side. They were only ten meters from the hatch and Coren.
“Coren, can you get that hatch open?”
“Yes, but I need to access the lock. Which means I can’t get shot in the back while trying to open it.”
Energy rounds pinged off the bulkhead around him as if to emphasize his point. More stomping boots overhead. More small-arms fire. Tag glanced at the three people—Mechanic, synth-bio droid, and human—who’d banded together for this moment with him. They were outnumbered, outgunned, and had no more chance at surviving this than water had at not freezing on Eta-Five.
But these people had trusted him. A medical officer who had no reason to be a captain. No reason for being in charge of the Argo except for extremely unfortunate circumstances.
The Drone-Mechs’ defensive efforts intensified, evidenced by the sheer downpour of rounds plunging into the smelted alloy of crushed fighters and singed deck panels. Tag could hear his crew breathing heavily through the comms, each desperately clinging to their respective shelters to avoid the gunfire for a moment longer. To live a moment longer.
Tag wouldn’t let it end here. He eyed the myriad of half-broken fighters and transport spacecraft littering the bay.
“Coren, how easy is it to start up one of these fighters?” he asked.
“Not so easy,” Coren said. “The controls respond only to individual pilots, and you can’t—”
“Okay, fine.” Tag eyed the rectangular black vehicle he was hiding behind with its rows of seats apparent through a gaping hole in the rear of it. “How about the troop transport?”
The comm line went quiet for a few seconds. The silence was punctuated by rapid-fire pulse rounds beating down on their positions.
“That might work. Troop transports fly using AI. You start them out and give them a trajectory, and they go.”
“I’m going to need you to walk me through that process.” Tag walked in a crouch to one side of the transport vessel he was hiding behind, closer to the wide gash in it from the Argo’s crash landing. He slipped through it as pulsefire spattered and singed the vehicle. Clambering over tossed and unfortunately empty weapon racks, he made it to the front of the transport. “I’m looking at two dark panels. What next?”
“You’ll need to—” Coren paused, and Tag watched through a porthole as he fell to his stomach, hiding from a fresh burst of incoming fire. He began again. “Just press both hands to the screens at once.”
A barrage of rounds cracked against the transport. Tag recoiled, but the small-arms fire wasn’t enough to break through the windshield or pierce the sidewalls. He pressed his palms against the two display screens, and to his surprise, they flickered to life in a dull blue glow. Strange characters scrolled across the screen. “I can’t read this. What am I supposed to do?”
“One of the command lines starts the AI systems,” Coren said.
“Which one?” Tag looked at more than twenty different lines. It was impossible to decipher the enigmatic letters, and the pulsefire hammering the transport wasn’t helping his concentration.
“It may be the third or fourth line from the top.”
“Is this something I can guess at, or am I going to kill myself if I choose the wrong one?”
When Coren didn’t answer immediately, Tag figured he knew the answer. He needed Coren in the transport, but the Mechanic was drawing far too much fire to move. If he stood, he’d be cut down before he took a single step.
“I’ll help!” another voice chimed in over the comms. Before Tag could reply, Sofia was already sprinting to the transport as Alpha provided a barrage of cover fire. The droid’s shots were clumsy and sporadic, but it was enough for a few Drone-Mechs to take pause.
Still, gunfire rained down on Sofia. Rounds burst around her, trailing her every move. She zigzagged across the deck then leapt into the charred hole in the rear of the transport. Her shoulder slammed into an empty seat, and she rolled, landing in a sprawl near Tag. He bent to help her up, but she brushed him off and strode to the two displays.
“Let’s see ...” She eyed the screens. “My Mechanic is still a bit basic, but I’ve picked up a bit from Coren.”
“Better have picked up more than me,” Tag muttered. “You got this?”
“I think so.”
“I’ll cover the rear.” Tag knelt near the hole. He sighted up a Drone-Mech sneaking toward them and sent a flurry of slugs punching through the attacker’s body. Several more returned fire, and he was forced to stoop back. “You almost got this bird flying?”
“I’m trying!” Sofia yelled as she studied the displays then pressed one of the display commands. “Got it—I think.”
Then lights buzzed on within the transport. It growled as its thrusters rumbled to life. A haunting, eerie howling filled the cabin.
“What is that?” Tag asked.
“I guess it’s their alarm system,” Sofia said. “You know, since there are so many warnings flashing across this screen. Can’t read them all, but I recognize a few words like ‘fatal’ and ‘destruction’ and ‘immediate.’”
“Great,” Tag said. “Can it fly?”
Sofia lifted her shoulders uncertainly. “Don’t see why we can’t try!” She punched at a few comm
ands, and the transport rocked, shaking off some of the debris piled on top of it. It shuddered for a moment, and Tag feared they were about to find out what the warnings were about. But then the transport lurched into the air. It hovered at an unhealthy tilt and started slipping sideways.
“So I guess the answer is not really! What do you want me to do about it?” Sofia yelled over the grinding and growling noises coming from the transport’s thrusters. Rounds pummeled the front and sides of the shuddering transport.
“You think we can safely pick up Alpha without crushing her? I want to set this thing down as a barricade in front of the hatch.”
“I can try.” Sofia punched a few of the commands. The transport rocked backward then slammed into the deck. It crushed another fighter and sent several crates flying into the bay bulkhead. Whatever damage the transport had sustained had wrecked any hopes they had of controlling it. “Not going to work, Skipper!”
Tag glanced out the back, studying Alpha’s and Coren’s positions. Dozens of new Drone-Mechs were posted along the catwalks, their rifles chattering and spraying a typhoon. The relentless assault kept Coren and Alpha from going anywhere. It wouldn’t be long before one of them perished due to the enormous volume of pulsefire alone. All it would take was one stray round. Tag shuddered, his mind racing for another solution, another way to protect his crew from the Drone-Mechs raining terror from the catwalks.
“This is one wild stallion I’m afraid I can’t tame,” Sofia said with a sigh. “Got another suggestion for me, Skipper?”
“Yes,” Tag said. “Let’s run this thing straight into the ceiling.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
“Can you say that again?” Sofia cried over the gunfire. “Sounded like you said you wanted me to ram this thing into the ceiling.”
“That’s right,” Tag replied. This was going to be a risky move, but it was better than letting the Drone-Mechs maintain their upper hand in the battle. “Send the transport on a suicide run. We’ll hop out back. Use the distraction to get to the hatch with Coren. Alpha, Coren, you hear all that?”
“Copy, Captain,” Alpha responded.
“Ready when you are,” Coren replied.
“Sofia?” Tag asked, looking toward the front of the cabin.
She gave him a silent nod, punched in a few commands, and the transport shook. Its nose started to point up, headed for the tangle of catwalks.
“She’s off!” Sofia yelled.
“Then abandon ship!” Tag commanded.
Sofia ran at Tag. He prepared to jump as the transport shuddered. More pulsefire slammed into the vehicle, and Sofia tripped. Her boot was tangled in a harness from one of the destroyed passenger seats. The transport vibrated as its thrusters began carrying it to the ceiling. Tag leapt toward her and fired his mini-Gauss into the harness at point-blank range. The slug punched through the harness and into the vehicle, shearing a hole straight out to the bay. He pulled Sofia free, and they tumbled out the back of the transport as it rocketed up. Sofia landed atop him in a jumble, and pain flamed up in his healing shoulder.
“Thanks,” Sofia said as she turned her head to watch the transport.
The vehicle curved to its left, slamming into the nearest catwalk. It ground several of the Drone-Mechs into the ceiling and scraped a long gouge into the metal. The vehicle continued forward, crashing into other catwalks, tearing them apart and sending Drone-Mechs fleeing.
“Better get moving,” Tag said. He pulled Sofia up, and they sprinted to Coren. Alpha was already at the Mechanic’s side, and the two were working to unlock the hatch.
Metal screeched against metal as the transport picked up speed, its engines roaring as it tore mindlessly along the ceiling. It scraped forward, the screech almost deafening, until it careened into the closed bay doors. The vehicle crumpled. Pieces of already-shredded metal plates flew from the impact, and ragged passenger seats tumbled through the air. The thrusters glowed a bright blue then white. A sudden flash of light overwhelmed Tag’s vision, followed by a deafening blast, and shrapnel flew across the deck. The rest of the transport disappeared in a blaze of rolling fire. Flaming, unrecognizable chunks of the transport bounced off the walls and fell across the remaining few Drone-Mechs that had stubbornly refused to die.
“We’re through!” Coren yelled. The hatch slid open. He led the other three into a corridor then punched a command into another terminal in the passageway. The hatch doors slammed shut and drowned out the alarms and crackle of fire from the fighter bay.
Tag studied their new surroundings, his chest heaving and desperately sucking in air. Sweat trickled across the inside of his helmet, blurring the intense lights blinking along the passageway. Clean white struts made graceful overhead arcs, and identical hatches intermittently lined the bulkhead. It gave the place a sterile, almost hospital-like quality—a far cry from the menacing curves and shadowy appearance of the dreadnought’s exterior.
Coren sprinted down the corridor, glancing back and forth to examine the small labels on each hatch. Tag could discern no difference between any of the labels or hatches and placed his full trust in the Mechanic. He was finding it easier and easier to follow the alien without reservation now, the distant echoes of paranoia lost to the Mechanic’s show of valor throughout their adventure so far. The passage soon branched into others, and hurried footsteps echoed in the distance, breaking Tag’s thoughts.
“Are we close?” Tag said.
“I believe so,” Coren replied.
But they weren’t close enough for Tag’s comfort. The footsteps grew louder until four Drone-Mechs rushed from an intersecting passage. His heart leaping into his throat, Tag immediately let loose a wild barrage as his crew pressed themselves tight against the bulkhead, sheltering behind the struts. One Drone-Mech crumpled, its body peppered with mini-Gauss slugs. Alpha and Sofia sent another fusillade to send the Drone-Mechs scattering and searching for cover.
Tag kept up the suppressing fire. His aching shoulder injury lit up in agony. Each shudder of the rifle resonated through him, igniting the pain just a bit more.
Alpha leaned out from a strut and squeezed the trigger once. A Drone-Mech’s visor exploded in a web of fissures, and the alien went down, limbs sprawled and weapon clattering away.
“My targeting algorithms are improving,” she said.
“Great!” Tag boomed. “Let’s keep that up.”
More footsteps bounced down other corridors.
“Keep shooting, and let’s move,” Tag said. “We’ve got to get to that damn terminal!”
They moved from strut to strut, firing and sprinting, leapfrogging each other until Coren stopped at a hatch. “This is it!”
His fingers tapped along a small panel, and the doors hissed back. Coren brought up his rifle and began firing before Tag could even see where the door led. He jumped to reinforce Coren but saw the few Drone-Mechs in here had already been subdued. Sofia and Alpha swiveled in next, and Coren slammed the hatch shut. Tag gasped to catch his breath. Sofia’s chest heaved as she leaned against the bulkhead, and Coren dropped his rifle to his side. He plodded to a central terminal in the vast space. Alpha seemed like the only one unaffected by their physical duress. She strode confidently to Coren and examined the terminal.
“This language is still foreign to me,” she said. “I’m not sure how much assistance I’ll be.”
“We’ll figure it out as we go.” Coren hunched over the terminal and began working, appearing right at home.
Gunfire thudded against the hatch, but it didn’t open. Sofia kept her rifle trained on it as Tag took a look around. Dozens upon dozens of sphere-shaped bots sat idly in racks. Tag figured these were the dreadnought’s repair bots. A series of small hatches—too tight for a Mechanic or even a human—dotted the bulkhead. He guessed each was a chute or dedicated passage for the bots.
A buzzing caught Tag’s attention, and he spun.
A huge holoscreen display glowed on the bulkhead. It showed the scene of the o
ngoing battle. The Montenegro continued to endure its relentless pummeling. More bleeding wounds had formed in its sidewalls, and fighters zipped around it in desperate orbits, struggling to defend the seemingly doomed capital ship. Small explosions dotted the field of view, more numerous than the surrounding stars light-years away. Drone-Mech destroyers and battlecruisers unleashed barrage after barrage, encroaching on the steadily diminishing SRE forces.
“Thought we might want to know what’s going on out there,” Coren said.
Tag wasn’t sure he wanted to watch the deaths of so many desperate humans. But he reminded himself they still had a chance. They could still pull this off and turn the tide of this seemingly hopeless battle.
More pounding sounded against the hatch. Sofia tensed.
“We’ve gained access to the shield systems,” Coren said. “And if I can reroute the systems commands to the shipwide network....”
“I think I understand what you are doing here,” Alpha said, leaning over Coren’s shoulder. She joined him at a nearby terminal, and they muttered between themselves as they worked.
The hammering against the hatch intensified.
“How long is this going to take you guys?” Sofia asked.
“A time estimate isn’t possible at this point,” Alpha replied coolly. “We are still rerouting our commands to bypass system security. I’m beginning to grasp the Mechanic coding practices better and should be able to assist Coren.”
The din at the hatch grew louder.
Sofia eyed Tag. “Not sure how long that hatch is going to hold.”
They needed to buy Coren and Alpha more time. Tag rushed to a stand full of repair bots. “Help me with these!”
Together, they shoved the stand. Metal squealed along the deck. Sweat trickled down Tag’s back, and his quads burned with the effort. His EVA suit struggled to maintain a comfortable temperature. He fought for purchase, leaning his full weight against the heavy rack. Soon it slid into place behind the hatch.
Eternal Frontier (The Eternal Frontier Book 1) Page 26
