Charley nodded, seeing the logic of that. But that meant they would need to withstand the first attack of these bombers.
“Let’s get inside too,” she said in a tight voice. She retreated to the inner command post with Kovacs and Harry to watch the projections. The bombers approached with chilling inevitability. Charley felt powerless as they loomed without so much as a single shot from the fort. It just didn’t feel right. And then the bombs were released.
“How strong is this base?” Charley asked Kovacs.
“Strong enough, I think,” he replied. “This place has withstood a number of attacks over the years. Some of the old warlords were fucking paranoid. Only the best shielding.”
Charley hoped so. Ghost Fort didn’t have energy shields as such, relying on multi-threaded bavarite sheets. A lab alloy now rare in the galaxy, bavarite was an extremely dense material very difficult to break down.
Sure enough, the bombs impacted against the fort but the facility’s integrity seemed to hold. Curiously, there was little in the way of sound coming over the scanners.
“Shouldn’t there be explosions at least?” Charley asked. The eerie silence continued. Realization dawned across Harry’s face.
“Pepsis gas,” the old pirate said with disgust. “A known human pathogen. They’re making it impossible for us to go outside.”
Charley watched the scanners as a green gas was released from each of the spent bombs, thickening into a dank cloud.
“Bastards,” she breathed in disbelief.
“They want to stroll right up to the front door,” Harry said. “Their infantry will have air filters.”
“What do we do?” Charley asked helplessly. Already the battle seemed unfair. But then she shook her negative thoughts free. War was unfair. It was up to her to adapt to the situation.
“Gronko,” she said suddenly, turning to the renki. “Did you find any air filters on your search for weapons?”
“There might be a few boxes down in the old barracks,” he said. “I’ll go check.”
Charley turned to Kovacs. “If we can scrounge twenty filters I’ll take a crack force out there and meet them head on,” she said fiercely. “Stab the motherfuckers in the back.”
Charley couldn’t contain her anger. Everything this Emperor Galactus did pissed her off immensely. It was time to make a stand. Prove a point. The galaxy wasn’t just a plaything for this power-hungry maniac. It was a vibrant mosaic of people doing their best to survive. The last thing people needed was this tyrant steamrolling his way across whole systems. It was up to the Pirate Guild, no matter how small, to stand in the Emperor’s way.
“I believe it,” Kovacs said with undisguised admiration. “I wouldn’t want to lose you though.”
Harry was looking at the pair of them strangely when Gronko returned, breathless.
“Around seventy-five air filters in the barracks,” he reported. Charley let out a little sigh of relief - that was much better than she expected.
“The old warlords were used to dirty tricks,” Kovacs commented. “Pepsis gas has been around for centuries and they would’ve needed protection.”
“I need those boxes up here,” Charley instructed a clutch of settlers. “Kovacs, hand pick twenty of the best-credentialed fighters.”
While Kovacs went about his work Charley checked the scanners. The bombers had completed their run and were returning to their base on the other side of the Hanov Range. Other blobs were apparent on the radar scanner, pouring through the Hanov Pass like water from a tap. The surveillance drone that had been launched earlier delivered some nice, clean images of armored troop carriers careening hell for leather across the snow. The images became static as the drone was shot down.
“Just troop carriers,” Harry said. “We were right all along - they want this place intact.”
Charley nodded, amazed at how quickly the vehicles were crossing the plain.
“Suspension fields,” Harry said. “They’re not rolling, they’re hovering.”
“ETA twenty minutes,” Summer said. “Shall I activate the missile towers?”
“Not yet,” Charley said instinctively. “We need them to be closer.”
The armored transports crept closer, fast but not as fast as the stealth bombers had been.
“If every transport can hold fourteen marines, we’re in for a hell of a fight,” Kovacs said, having lined up twenty of the best fighters at his disposal.
“Must be over five hundred men,” Harry said glumly.
“Perfect,” Charley said, warming to the challenge, refusing to let the situation get to her. “I can’t wait to see them burn.”
Her words must have struck a chord with the settlers, because several of them cheered. A chant went up among the assembled defenders - “Char-ley! Char-ley! Char-ley!”
Embarrassed and humbled, Charley looked away and pretended to check her weapons. Harry laid an arm across her shoulders and whispered in her ear.
“It’s your time to shine, sweetheart,” he murmured. She looked at the twenty best fighters Kovacs could muster. Most of them were more familiar with hunting rifles than plasma rifles, and tracking their prey rather than facing it head on, but they were protecting their homes and families and that was enough.
“Up to the rampart,” she commanded. She wanted to survey the scene of battle before she made her first move. The air filters were passed around. Charley fitted hers on so it didn’t interfere with her targeting computer. A burst of static came from FIGJAM at her waist and she wondered if the damn PalBot was laughing at her.
Charley led her troops to the rampart and was glad to see the pepsis gas cloud dissipating. From what she’d read, however, it wouldn’t be safe to breathe the air out here for several hours. With Molly’s help, Kovacs had been able to seal the major entrances and flush potentially toxic air from within.
Harry emerged onto the rampart with the first contingent of riflemen. A hundred settlers arranged themselves along the rampart, crouched down behind the thick wall. There were gun slots at irregular intervals throughout the rampart, allowing for a variety of relatively protected attacks.
There were more riflemen waiting in the inner keep to replace those that fell in battle. Kovacs was now in the command post waiting to coordinate the replenishment of men. As had been agreed earlier, it was important to maintain the illusion of neverending manpower.
The first line of armored troop transports loomed through the sickly green gas, stopping just before the frozen river. Enemy marines began pouring through yawning portals at the front of each vehicle. They were dressed in scarlet armor - the self-styled color of the new Imperial regime. Each carried a state of the art pulse rifle. They packed more punch than a plasma rifle and were far more precise. As the enemy marines marched forward in their armor, Charley fought the urge to shrink into a tight ball. She told herself that it was the body armor that made them appear taller than they really were. She had to admit, their appearance was frightening. Apart from their sheer size, each Imperial marine wore a skull-like helmet with an air filter attached.
Shaking her fear free, Charley waited until the first wave of marines were almost across the frozen river.
“Open fire!” she yelled. And then over the com: “Summer, activate those missile towers now!”
12
That familair bass rum rumbled through the facility as the defending rifleman opened fire. A rain of plasma fizzed into the river. It didn’t matter if the bolts hit the marines or not - the thick ice was immediately pockmarked with holes.
The Imperial marines looked at each other with uncertainty. Several of them crashed through the warming ice and disappeared under the crust. With the weight they were carrying Charley doubted they would be seen again. She’d heard off water-adapted armor but it was unlikely these marines had been allocated that kind of gear.
“Let it rain,” Charley said with menace.
Ports ope
ned up on the towering missile turrets. The sound of thunder crackled over all as thermal missiles were released from all towers at once. They soared towards the troop carriers, which were now advancing over the snow right to the edge of the frozen river. Charley watched through her gun hole, confused. Surely the enemy wasn’t that stupid? The missiles homed in on the transports and impacted against them mercilessly. The troop carriers were heavily armored but couldn’t withstand multiple missile hits. Many were thrown into the air, riding shockwaves thick with fire. Charley had to look away from the flare as several troop carriers were thrown backwards, rolling and skidding across the snow. A few of them pleasingly sank into the river, further disrupting the ice and taking a few marines with them. A small clutch of transports remained at the edge of the river and were now lowering platforms that all but traversed the watercourse. Charley swore under her breath. It was a neat feature and one that would allow the marines to cross the frigid water. Already scarlet marines were pouring across the platforms and leaping over to the snow on the north bank. Once there they could rush the main gate of the fort and work their way into the inner courtyard.
It was time for Charley’s crack force. She look at her troops, who had held back from firing through the rampart with discipline. There was no real point in firing their blasters from this range anyway.
“Defend the main gate!” she called out, rushing back down the rampart into the keep. It was a simple instruction and one that her troops would understand perfectly.
She led her team through the keep, passed the blinking command post filled with Kovacs’s people.
“Open the keep doors,” Charley ordered Summer over the com. Within seconds the keep’s heavy doors rolled open. She charged through, the armed settlers close behind. She felt a twinge of anxiety as the doors shut behind them, but that was a sensible security measure.
Her boots crunched over the snow as she and her force rushed across the courtyard to the gun holes at the towering main gate. Kovacs had closed the main gate after the last settlers had arrived, and it would take more than Imperial marines to force it open. Charley didn’t want the enemy to get a chance to open the damn thing.
She sighted the narrow passage beyond the main gate. Ghost Fort was well protected by walls of rock to the east and west. The rock extended to a choke point at the main gate. The enemy would need to run this gauntlet if it was to gain entry. More missiles screamed overhead, followed by ear-rupturing explosions to the south. No doubt the enemy transports were being pounded. She wondered if the Imperials had expected the missile turrets to be used. If the opposing battle commander had any sense at all, he or she would have a contingency. The defenders would need to adapt to that when the moment came.
For the moment the choke point outside the thick gate was empty. Charley could just make out the odd fireburst through the swirling pepsis gas. Charley allowed herself to hope that the enemy had been pushed back beyond the river when a number of scarlet figures suddenly appeared in the gate approach. Plasma fire rained from the rampart far above them but the enemy now enjoyed the cover of the main gate. The missiles, of course, could only target the enemy out on the plain.
“Fire!” Charley shouted above the din. She and her comrades fired through the gun ports in the main gate. Charley flicked her targeting visor down and fired at the points suggested in the glowing reticule. To her dismay the plasma fire wasn’t enough to bring the enemy marines down. Several enemy infantry ran the gauntlet and made it right to the gate, where they stood against the hard metal in between the gun ports, removing them from view.
A chill went down Charley’s spine. She got the distinct impression these marines had a plan for the front gate and it would be breached within minutes.
“Fall back to the walls,” Charley commanded, and her men fanned out to the side walls to both sides of the main gate. A strange fizzing sound could be heard from the other side. Charley watched in amazement as a number of glowing points appeared in the thick metal. The enemy were using some kind of corrosive fluid to eat through the gate. The fluid was spreading in a pattern like a spider’s web, probably linked by limpet canisters on the other side.
“Make sure you pick your targets,” Charley returned. “We’re switching to melee weapons.” She look at her crack force. “Melee weapons,” she ordered. “Our blasters can’t penetrate their armor.”
She holstered her blaster nervously, drawing the wickedly curved scimitar she liked to carry everywhere. It was about time she got to use it properly. The enemy marines’ armor was thick, but segmented. She figured it was possible to slice into the weaker joints between the armor pieces. Her force dutifully holstered their weapons and drew all manner of blades, from machetes to combat knives. They were smallish weapons but razor sharp. Charley hoped they would be effective against the hulking marines.
With a thud a circular section of the main gate fell to the snow. Marines rushed over the glowing metal, pulse rifles poised. They were immediately assailed by plasma fire from Harry’s crew at the rampart. Once that flurry had passed Charley moved in to engage at close quarters.
Her heart thumping madly, Charley squared off against a tall marine. The enemy raised their weapon and Charley brushed the barrel aside with her sword. The marines weren’t prepared for a melee - their pulse rifles had long barrels that could be turned by swift melee strikes.
Charley lashed out with the scimitar and missed, hitting the marine on the breast. The sword was pushed straight into the softer join under the breast piece and Charley felt the material yield.
Encouraged, Charley stayed close to the marine so he couldn’t bring his gun to bear. Ducking the gun barrel, Charley struck at the man’s hip and found the same join under the breast piece. This time the sword sank into soft flesh. Charley was surprised at how far the razor-sharp, finely balanced sword traveled. Certainly far enough to slice through organs. The marine stood in shock for a moment before falling to the snow. Charley had to time to absorb the kill before she was faced with a second marine. This time she leapt forward before the man could fire, swinging the scimitar in a low slash at the legs. Again she missed the join but found a leg piece which corraled the blow into the join. As such the blow lacked force by the time the join was found by the blade still sank through the fibrous material there.
The strike made the marine hesitate, and in a melee battle that was fatal. Charley swung at his neck, finding the join under the fearsome scarlet helmet. The sword scythed through skin, almost severing the marine’s head. Charley breathed out and looked around her before the man had even hit the ground. Despite her own success with the blade, the battle ran poorly for the defenders. Charley’s crack battalion simply didn’t have melee weapons as fine as hers, and thus couldn’t penetrate the weakpoints in the marines’ armor.
Several defenders already lay on the ground, their bodies mangled by the attacker’s pulse rifles at extremely close range.
Charley found herself backing towards the inner keep along with her comrades. That was playing into the hands of the marines, who allowed space to open up between the two groups. With a sinking feeling Charley realized that her group was about to be slaughtered by what was effectively a firing squad.
But then the keep doors were thrown open and Gronko came storming out with his heavy flak gun. Roaring a bone-chilling war cry, the big renki stepped forward with arrogant fury, spraying the marines with his high-octane weapon. The heavy weapon delivered armor-cracking pellets at very high speed, devastating the enemy ranks. Scarlet marines were thrown back against the outer wall, their arms and legs thrashing in the face of such a furious onslaught. More marines poured through the front gate but Gronko was now surrounded by a regiment of fifty rifleman kneeling and firing. Harry had split his forces very wisely, sending Charley a detachment to drive the attackers from the courtyard.
The ploy worked - buoyed by the reinforcements, Charley and her team flanked the shellshocked marines and pursued them when they decided to retreat back down the front gate choke point.
Charley was running full pelt when the front gates shut in front of her. She looked back at the keep, furious.
She saw Harry herding his regiment back into the keep.
“We decimated their forces, Charley!” he yelled. “It’s time to withdraw and consolidate our forces.”
Even in the heat of battle Charley saw the sense of that. She barked orders to her team, motioning that they should do exactly as Harry had suggested. On the way back to the keep she passed a team of scrappers with sheets of metal and blow torches. It seemed Kovacs was already organizing a makeshift repair for the front gate. The man was nothing if not efficient.
Charley was the last to enter the inner keep. The doors slammed shut behind her as she made her way down the steps into the cavernous main chamber. The command post was a blur of activity as Kovacs’s people frantically checked their scanners.
“Release two more drones,” Kovacs was saying. “I want one over the retreating attack force, one further south to gather intel on the remnants of the invading army.”
Summer saluted, getting to work immediately. Charley could hear the whoosh of missiles outside, no doubt pursuing the retreating marines relentlessly.
Charley walked through a throng of panting rifleman, still throbbing with adrenalin. The eyes of those around her were bright and elated. Charley still couldn’t quite believe that they’d actually driven off the Imperials! Harry found her in the crowd and wrapped her in his arms. Charley giggled as she was spun around wildly.
“We did it!” Harry exclaimed, his eyes looking forty years younger. “That was one of the best actions I’ve seen. You fought like a banshee!”
Charley blushed. “I couldn’t have done it without your steady tactical support,” she said truthfully. “You arrived at just the right time.”
The Pirate Commander (The Space Pirate Chronicles Book 3) Page 7
