Edge of Redemption (A Star Too Far Book 3)

by Casey Calouette

  “Get the Gallipoli,” Governor Myint snapped.

  A single panel of the multifaceted display blinked black and showed a comms pending indicator. To the left of it, a screen showed an orbital plot with the Gallipoli, an unnamed UC ship and a larger ship approaching near the elevator. The Gallipoli was on the opposite side of the planet from the elevator but on the right side to come in before the UC ship.

  Green flared into yellow and Mustafa’s mustached face stared back. “What?” His face was ringed in sweat with dried blood caked on the bridge of his nose. Behind him the space was dark with a crackle of arcing electricity.

  “Status?”

  Mustafa scrunched his face and glanced above the camera. “One more pass. They’re toothless now. But that dropship is gonna get those pods off.”

  “Unacceptable,” Governor Myint snapped. “Disregard the UC ship, stop those capsules!”

  “What? You stop the damned troops on the ground. That UC ship isn’t out of the fight yet!”

  “I thought you said it was toothless?” Governor Myint replied in a low tone. His eyes glared at Mustafa.

  “For now,” Mustafa replied. “But—”

  “Hit the dropship.”

  “They’ll get some capsules away,” Mustafa said.

  “Priests and nuns? We can handle that,” Natyasha said.

  Governor Myint turned and looked to Natyasha. “Nuns? Priests?” He raised his chin and looked up at the screen. “Wait and engage both, we’ll handle those capsules on the ground.”

  Mustafa turned away from the camera, spoke to someone, and looked back. “They’ll get about half of the pods out, but we should be able to work it.”

  “Excellent. We’ll be up with the ship’s master. Once the UC ship is destroyed, you will escort us out.”

  Mustafa nodded slowly.

  “We’re leaving?” Natyasha added quickly.

  Governor Myint spoke something in another language and the staff began to shut everything down. He looked to Natyasha. “No, we’re leaving. If the troops on the ground can settle this then we shall return.”

  Natyasha felt her heart drop and grasped the edge of a console for support. “But I did what you wanted! I’m committed!” Her eyes snapped around the room and saw uncaring faces focusing on other tasks. By the time she looked over, Governor Myint was almost out of the room. “What do I do?”

  He stopped and smoothed out his coat. His dark eyes looked up at the display and back down to Natyasha. “I suggest you find a weapon and help defend this complex.”

  “But—”

  Governor Myint spoke to Mustafa. “If this complex falls, you are to bombard the elevator.”

  “Affirmative,” Mustafa said slowly and glanced at Natyasha. His eyes looked conflicted, but just for a moment. He nodded and the feed cut out.

  Natyasha stood on shaky legs and watched as the staff streamed out. Everything and now this, she thought. “Damn all of you.”

  A pair of soldiers escorted two men through the space after Governor Myint. One was mostly bald with skin thin like onion paper. The other wore the sallow eyed look of an addict struggling out from the bad side of a recovery. The old one walked proudly and regarded Natyasha with a casual glance. Then she was the only one left.

  She felt betrayed but knew that wasn’t the right feeling. No, she thought, right feeling, wrong word. She glanced over at the pistol Myint had left. Two steps and she hefted it.

  Loud thumping sounds echoed through the complex. A higher pitched sound came in just after. A sound she knew well, as did everyone else on the planet. The sound of the elevator rising.

  Natyasha felt the weight in her hand and walked out into the wide hallway. Never before had she felt so alone, but never before had she felt so right. She glanced down at the blocky firearm and walked towards the sound of the fighting. She saw a single human officer leading a platoon of the bioaugments and watched it go by. No, she thought, I think I’ll wait here.

  CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

  ––––––––

  Bark stared down at the ground and shook with anger.

  “What now?” Emilie yelled to Bark above the sound of gunfire. She stayed down below the edge of a concrete embankment. “Bark

  Bark looked up with eyes that were ringed in tears and bracketed by cheeks of rose. Her voice choked for a moment as if unable to find the words.

  Gunfire sounded in the distance, faint and sporadic. The makeshift militia had surged out to the edge of the complex and stood in the grime covered streets. Eyes looked back to the sky expecting more violence to rain down. A thin mist trailed down and seeped into the silt.

  They had all stopped and listened to the broadcast. Every pocket cell hummed and sang the message. Emilie felt eyes on her as Core was mentioned, but ignored it all. The memory of the bombardment was too fresh for Natyasha Dousman’s words to stand.

  She scanned the streets and saw everyone at a standstill, leaderless. “Bark?”

  Bark looked up and locked her eyes onto Emilie.

  “We need to move.”

  “I know.”

  “Now.” Emilie glanced at the crowds. They all seemed to be watching her and Bark. Far in the distance, more gunfire sounded.

  “Bark?”

  Bark stood quickly and pointed her finger at a group of mud streaked survivors. “You!” she said to the only surviving militia soldier from the truck.

  “Me?” he called back. He sprinted across the street and nearly fell on the slick pavement. “What?”

  “Name?”

  “Pavel Gregorivic.”

  “Pavel,” she said and nodded. “Get a truck, fill it with people, and get more weapons. Take half a dozen that are armed, too.”

  Pavel nodded and ran back to the group where he came from. They broke off and ran down the street. He stopped a dozen meters away. “Where do I go then?”

  “Just listen, follow the explosions,” Bark called back.

  Pavel smiled and gave a sloppy salute and ran after the rest of his group.

  Bark stood and hefted her weapon into the crook of her arm. She glanced back and forth down the street. Immigrants stretched along the battered wall of the complex. They wore mismatched body armor and recovered weapons. “Anyone who’s served, come to me!”

  Men and women ran forward, hunched low, and crouched near Bark. She glanced down at them all and seemed to weigh each before looking to the next.

  Emilie took them in and saw angry faces, wounds, blood, and mud. She knew what they felt: betrayal, anger, with just a taste of freedom.

  “Break up into squads,” she said. “Dozen or so to each of you, make sure everyone has at least one heavy rifle. Priority is the brutes.” Her voice was level, professional, without a hint of anger. “We’re heading for the elevator. For now, we hold them there.”

  Heads nodded around her.

  “If you find a transport, load up whoever you can. If you meet militia, tell ‘em you’re with Bark.”

  “What about them?” a woman asked with a thumb pointing towards a corpse who wore the uniform of Malic’s men.

  Bark looked at the corpse and nodded. “Engage.”

  They nodded and grasped weapons.

  “Go, form ‘em up. If you get cells, dial my number, that’s how we’ll coordinate.” Bark rattled off a quick string of numbers and watched them go.

  “That’s it?” Emilie asked, feeling that it was anticlimactic.

  Bark looked down the long road heading towards the elevator, eyes squinting. “Yup, that’s it.”

  “If we can get inside the complex I can get drones on the field,” Emilie said. She felt the waves of exhaustion and adrenaline wash over her.

  “Drones?”

  “We have them, but without a neural net we can’t do anything with them.”

  Cracks of gunfire sounded in the distance, but the silence that hung seemed out of place.

  “Where’s the bombardment?” Emilie asked. It was overdue, she could fee
l it in her bones.

  The ragged group moved slowly at first. Unsure and unstable like a wobbling giant. At every dirty alley they gained more confidence, more speed, but not a single bit more grace. The group plodded forward as quickly as the wounds would allow. Some lurched farther and snapped back towards the mob.

  Mob, Emilie thought. A mob. This is not an army, it’s a riot with a goal. She turned to speak to Bark and saw her engaged on her cell. She wanted to ask how they would engage and then she knew.

  The group of Hun soldiers was pitched up inside of a low apartment building. The first round struck a man in the throat and sprayed blood onto the street. People scattered towards alleys, doorways, anywhere with cover. Some had no idea where it came from and paid the toll as automatic weapons fired into the groups.

  “Cover!” Bark screamed.

  Emilie leaped over a concrete embankment and followed Bark. The two huddled behind a delivery vehicle with four flat tires. “What now?”

  Bark flipped out her cell. “Move one street to either side. Keep moving.”

  Emilie watched the groups dissipate and melt away. “What are you doing?”

  Bark cocked her head. “Not getting into a thirty minute firefight with three soldiers. We need to lock them down into that complex.”

  Emilie was angry for a second and then took a breath. “Your lead.”

  “Yes. Yes it is.”

  The streets were slick with silt and mud. Eyes watched from above inside of the apartments. Those on the ground glanced up warily but continued forward. Some streamed out from the buildings and took position. Bark hollered out to some she knew. They were gaining strength, but the elevator complex grew in the distance.

  More gunfire echoed out from ahead. The heavy tut-tut sounds of autocannons slowed the approach. Emilie felt the hairs rise on the back of her neck and jogged closer to the sides of the street. No one moved in the middle of the road. Everyone hunched forward and prepared.

  Stacks of cargo containers loomed up and signaled that the elevator complex was coming near. As if the giant black ribbon disappearing into the clouds wasn’t enough of a reminder. A loud crack rang out and a woman crumpled to the ground.

  Emilie sprinted forward and slid in next to a corrosion streaked container that wore blocky letters that said WALMART. Then she heard the gunfire exploding all around her. She didn’t even try to peek up. A woman next to her fired an automatic. Emilie could taste the nanite propellant in her mouth. “What is it?” she asked.

  The woman finished firing the clip and slid back against the bluish container. “Why don’t you look?”

  Emilie leaned forward a bit and felt a heavy hand on her shoulder. She glanced back and saw Bark with her cell to her ear and a stern look on her face.

  “Don’t,” Bark said, in a quick pause, and continued speaking into the cell.

  The surge of the rabble halted against the first lines of Hun troops. Cracks and sporadic fire popped between the two groups with each side testing the other. Bodies lay broken on the mud slicked street with only the mist running down their faces.

  Then they dropped down.

  Emilie didn’t notice anything until the screams sounded from behind her. She whipped her head back and saw a hairless apelike creature with a stubby submachine gripped in arms too long. It swung the weapon and fired wildly at the crouched militia. She scrambled to the side and reached out to move the woman next to her.

  The woman slumped down dead. The front of her scalp flopped forward.

  Emilie shrieked and fell back into Bark. Bark dropped the cell and swung out her weapon but the creature was already buckled over with gunfire.

  More of the humanoids dropped down. Some crashed and scattered with broken legs while others collided with light poles and cars. But the few who rained down burst out with vengeance.

  The sounds of the high rate bursts of the submachine guns rang out all around. Cries and screams followed bursts of the lower pitched additive cell produced weapons.

  Bark grabbed the cell and dialed on the face frantically. “Fuck,” she cried out angrily and frantically punched in more numbers. “Hold and cover! Deal with it and get ready.”

  The assault ground to a standstill. Too many groups of uncoordinated soldiers all waited for commands. The breakdown of communication was becoming painfully obvious as no one wanted to advance without the cover from others.

  Emilie saw the futility in a single person organizing an assault. She knew nothing of combat, but when it came to organizing mass groups of people, she was a pro. “Hold on,” she said and grabbed the assault rifle from the dead woman. She leveled the barrel and opened fire at a wide window.

  Glass sprayed onto the ground with bits of advertisements still attached. Inside a yellow and red light blared. Racks of bare shelves showed what was once a small shop. A generic vendbot stood in the corner, garish and bright, like a circus clown.

  Bark stopped talking and blinked at Emilie. “What?”

  Emilie sprinted across the street. The glass crunched under her feet and she used the barrel of the weapon to clear away the shards still stuck on the sill. A quick bound and she was inside and punching out as many of the flimsy cells as she could.

  Her fingers flew and ripped off each tab. The faces glowed pink and she laid each down. She repeated one after the next and watched as they synced with the others near it. She tapped quickly and hunched down with every explosion in the distance. Finally she gathered them up and ran out the door to Bark.

  Bark stood with her back against the wall and her hand on the flexible cell. She watched Emilie run up and kept her eyes on the phones all the while she was talking.

  “You! All of you!” Emilie called to a group in cover. She handed each a phone. “Names?”

  “Consuela,” a dirty faced woman with bruising on her arms replied.

  A man with a ragged tattoo across his chin replied, “Paul.”

  “Levi,” a man with sallow eyes replied.

  Emilie handed a flexible cell to each and crouched down next to them. “Each of you needs to handle three numbers. When she—” Emilie pointed at Bark, “—orders something, you each pass it along to your contacts.” She held their gaze. “No fuck ups.” She left the pile of cells on the ground and stood in front of Bark. “Call everyone, tell them that you’re delegating.”

  Bark scrunched her face and ended the call. She opened her mouth and sighed, rattling off numbers followed by names.

  “You can’t be wasting your time calling everyone, delegate. We need you to keep everyone moving forward. We’re stopped while you’re digesting all this,” Emilie said. She’d handled departments with as many employees as there were citizens on Winterthur. Nothing was worse than a manager who was overwhelmed by petty details. She’d seen it time and time again where someone would be so reluctant to hand over a bit of control that they lost control of everything.

  The rate of fire increased. Heavy autocannons barked out. Quick bursts of lighter fire rattled everywhere. A set of explosions popped through the air. Screams came from the distance and whispered away on the light wind.

  “Go! All teams move forward! Keep them in that complex!” Bark yelled to the three with the cells. She fumbled with her weapon and stopped. Her chest rose and lowered. Her fingers flexed on the weapon. She glanced up at Emilie and nodded.

  The three with the cells punched keys frantically and passed word down the line. Emilie listened as closely as she could and beckoned the three to follow. Bark was already moving to the next piece of cover.

  “Whoever sees the brutes, tell ‘em to report the position. I want to know where they are!” Bark yelled, more at ease with her tone of voice.

  The group pushed ahead with the rabble before and behind. Some moved with a precision honed through a life of military service while others ran unsure and awkward with eyes wild and raw.

  The walls of the elevator complex loomed up in patches of raw, fresh concrete, next to streaked panels of aged gray.
Stuttered weapons fire shot back from the tops of the walls.

  “Gordo relleno at the main gate!” Consuela said quickly.

  “What?” Bark said.

  “Big-big!” Consuela moved her heads away from her face and pantomimed puffy cheeks.

  Bark nodded. “Move up Koyo’s group, and support with Haswell.” She turned and looked around. She raised her weapon and shot her way into a dim warehouse.

  “What are we doing?” Emilie asked. She followed close behind.

  “Hitting those brutes,” Bark said as she ran at a slight jog through the empty space.

  “How?” Emilie had seen what the brutes could do and had no desire to get close.

  “Take out the support, get in close.”

  “You don’t know, do you?” Emilie asked again, with a quick glance to make sure the cell operators were following.

  “You have any ideas?” Bark raised her weapon and kicked open a flimsy alloy door.

  A man fell back and yelled out in surprise.

  “Where’s Koyo?” Bark snapped.

  The man scurried back up against the wall and pointed down the road. Farther down the elevator complex skirted away. The main gate was at the edge, a hundred meters away. The tops were chipped and torn by gunfire. A heavy tut-tut of autocannons spoke of the defense.

  Emilie felt afraid. Afraid like she’d never really felt before. Everything else she’d done was for survival, but she’d never risked her life like this. The feeling of control she always desired had slipped away long before. She didn’t feel adrift, but she definitely wasn’t the one steering the boat.

  “Bean says they’re moving up near the wharf!” Levi said in a shaky voice.

  “Tell Bean to hold his fucking ass tight. He covers that sea shore. If he needs help, have Wallace move some in. Who has Koyo?”

  Paul rushed forward and handed a cell to Bark.

  “Koyo? No? Get Koyo,” she said quickly. She hunched down next to the man she’d scared and stared out at a group of corpses.

  One of the Hun bioaugments lay broken near the wall. The side of his head was cracked open and matted patches of brown hair covered the wound. Both of his hands were curled up like claws.