He Who Dares: Book Two (The Gray Chronicals 2)

by Rob Buckman

  “If that is what happens, so be it. After we complete the mission, we high tail it back to the mining ship?”

  “It would be great if the Chief could fly it around to the nearest airlock or docking bay. We’d be able to get the hell out of there a lot quicker.”

  “Good point. I’ll relay that to the Chief. My only concern is, that the moment we launch those fighters, or blow the place up, the Sirriens will know something up.” Mike continued dressing as they talked, with Rice double check the seals on his suit.

  “Not if we create enough confusion they won’t, sir. Hopefully they’ll just think someone ordered the fighter out if they thought the base was takes a hit.” Mike liked and didn’t like Rice’s idea. It would cause mass confusion as he wanted, but it also had the potential of getting a lot of people killed.

  “I only have one caveat, Sergeant Rice.”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “We are not at war with the Sirriens, at least not yet. Before you start blowing stuff up, you set off the alarm system in some way to give the people on that station a chance to get off if something major blows up.” Rice looked at him a moment then nodded.

  “As you say, sir. I’ll make sure personally that any alarm system is activated before we start blowing things up.” He smiled then. “I thought you might be thinking along those lines, sir, so I added a collection of explosive devices, just in case.”

  “You’d better let me carry a few as well, look for communication, power junctions, and things like that.”

  “A hull breach in a few places would go amiss either sir.”

  “Damn! You Marine’s are a bloodthirsty lot.” Mike grinned. Yet he knew Rice was right, they had to create as much panic, and confusion as possible, and avoid killing as few people as possible in the process.

  Standing in line, they all turned to the left and checked the back of the equipment of the person in front of them, then did an about face and did the same thing the other way. This was one thing no one rushed as a person's life depended on how well each of them checked the other. At last, each held his or her thumb up to indicate the check was complete and clear. There was one moment when Conner Blake held his thumb down, and Sergeant Rice went over to look. It wasn’t serious, and at last, he held his thumb up. After that Rice walked down the line, check each man back and front himself, before closing his face shield. Together they shuffled into the airlock and sealed the door.

  “Bridge! Away team number one in the airlock.”

  “Understood team leader cycle lock when ready.”

  “Aye, Captain.” Mike acknowledged, smiling to himself as he hit the key.

  The airlock cycled, and opening the outer hatch, they stepped out onto the short deck at the aft of the main sail. Rice held up the short rope attached to his belt with a carabiners on the end, and snapped it to the cable running from the ship to the surface. The Marines had already rigged a boarding plank to the rugged surface and the moment Mike stepped onto it, he felt the change to zero gravity once they passed beyond the one generated by the ship. The black surface of the rock was lumpy, not that they touched down, but sped hand over hand along the cable. At the end, they switch from one cable to the next around the rock until they reached the rock hopper’s ship. The moment Mike saw inside the ship, he understood Sergeant Rice’s reason for using the line instead of the Jetpacks. The inside was cramped enough and there was nowhere to put the Jetpacks, which meant they would have had to jettison them. Mike was thankful he got the second seat next to Conner, who was already aboard checking out the system.

  “Any problem with radio traffic, Chief?”

  “No, sir, the ships been sending out its automatic repeater signal, and no one seems to be bothered about us.”

  “Good, let's hope it stays that way.”

  “Just in case, I’ve jimmied the radio to break up when I transmit.”

  “Good. Once we are aboard the station and find out where our ships are, we’ll radio for you to bring this bucket around to the nearest docking port or airlock.”

  “Aye-aye, Skipper.”

  “So, let’s get this show on the road.”

  The controls were fairly standard, even if all the instruments were labeled in French it only took a moment before they lifted off. Conner followed a random course, as if checking another asteroid and gradually worked his way back down the belt towards the solar furnace. Everything went well for a while, and then the radio spluttered to life.

  “You’d better answer that, sir, your French is better than mine.” Mike nodded, and keyed the comm unit.

  “I’m having radio problems and heading back to base!” Mike answered in perfect French, trying to match the tone the miners use. Immediately, the request came back for him to repeat, as his message was breaking up. He let out several colorful French swear words. “Been trying to reach you for a while, I’m having radio problems.” Again, someone asked him to repeat.

  He did, repeating the message four times in all, sounding more frustrated each time. In the end, they got the idea, and told him to go ahead, and that they’d pass on the information, he was having radio problems. That at least should stop anyone asking questions as to why he didn’t respond, and elevate suspicion. They did get several radio calls from different people, but he ignored them, and from what could tell, they’d got the message. After that, no one bothered them as they pulled out and headed for the main complex. Even so, Mike’s hands were sweating as the automatic docking beacon took control of the little craft and brought them into the correct docking port. With a loud ‘clang’ that vibrated through the tiny ship, the magnetic clamps locked together, bringing the ship to a halt, airlock to airlock.

  “Head up people, just in case there’s a reception committee waiting for us.” Rice called. By now, the Marines had stripped off the soft suits and the moment Rice gave the word they pulled their side arms as the airlock cycled open, sounding as if the pump was on its last legs. Finely the green light came on and Mike undogged the hatch. No one waited outside for them, and the moment the outer door opened, two Marines pulled themselves out onto the deck. The moment they it, the artificial gravity returned, bringing their feet to the floor and they took off to scout the short, landing bay corridor. The rest waited, and after a few moments until they signaled the all clear.

  “Chief, you stay here and monitor our progress. As soon as I’ve located the ships I’ll signal you.”

  “Right, sir, I’ll bring her round to the nearest airlock to you, or the launch bay if possible.”

  “Good man. You take care, Conner.”

  “You too, sir. While I wait, I’ll make out I’m a maintenance tech working on the radio repair or something in case someone comes poking their nose in.”

  “By the look of it, this ship could use some repair, oh yes, make sure you check on fuel, we’ll need full tanks.”

  “Aye-aye, sir, there has to be a loading dock, or fuel lines around here.”

  Stowing the Evac suits in an empty locker, the six of them made their way out of the dock onto the main concourse and quickly mingled with the throng of people. A quick survey showed at least three major species, Human, Voss, Cerulean, with a few other’s mixed in. The majority, of course we're human, Sirrien or people from star systems within their so call Empire. Most worked for them as rock hounds, miners, prospectors and traders, or techs on the solar furnace. Except the military and station security, everyone was dressed differently in a wide assortment of clothes and colors. That meant they blended in and simply vanished into the crowd.

  “Jesus, this station is big, sir, what do you think would be our best course?” Sergeant Rice asked, looking around.

  The Star base was big, a multi-leveled circular structure, and from top to bottom and at least half a mile long, and a three quarters of a mile wide at the center. From the outside, it looked something like an old-fashioned spinning top. The main concourse teamed with gaudy clad people, sampling the local wares, as the ‘ladies of the evening
’ plied their trade, or enticed the men into knocking shops or bars. The air was filled with a multitude of enticing smells, and sounds of music.

  “Nice place to spend some R&R, if it wasn’t on the wrong side.” Rice muttered, looking longingly at a tray full of beer floating passed on the top of a droid.

  “Later, Charley, we’ve got work to do.

  “Aye-aye, sir.” He sighed.

  “I’m betting those fighters are in a strictly military area, so see if you can find a directory terminal.” He looked around. “If the Sirriens build their Star bases anything like Earth, then they should be spaced out around the main concourse.”

  “Aye, sir.” Rice muttered softly, then pushed his way through the crowd, and passed the word.

  It didn’t take long to locate one, as expected, finding them scattered about the wide concourse at regular intervals. The terminals also gave the information in a multitude of languages, and simply by tapping in ‘English’ all instruction and direction came up that way. Mike did note one piece of good fortune, according to the terminal the Star Base was in a night rotation, not that you could tell from the number of people milling around. Hopefully, it meant there wouldn’t be so many people on duty, especially in the military section. Mike stayed with Rice, while the other wandered about, checking out the market stalls, or chatting with the locals.

  “Found it, sir, six levels down, all military passed that point, and no information about it.”

  “That’s a place to start, let’s go.” Mike eyed the security cam all over the place. “Keep it casual people and don’t bunch up, they have eyes on us.” Without being obvious, everyone looked for, and spotted the location of the cams.

  Using hand signals the group followed as they looked around for an elevator. With the crush of people wandering about, it was difficult to find, so in the end they used a stairway that leads down. Even so, there were a lot of people going up and down, babbling in countless languages. They managed to go down four decks before they were stopped by two men in dark green station security uniforms.

  “Where do you think you’re going, rock hound?” One asked in French.

  “None of your damn business.” Mike answered in a surly manner using his native language, trying to push passed them. Avalon English was similar to Earth English, but different enough in tone and inflection so the MP didn’t think it strange, not with the multitude of other languages spoken here.

  “Watch your mouth!” One snapped in Standard English, placing his shock baton in the center of Mike’s chest and fingering the button.

  “You watch it! Why are you putting a squeeze on us?” He asked belligerently, hooking his hand in his web belt, inches from his holster.

  “Checking ID, that’s what.” The MP said, prodding a little with the baton. The position of Mike’s hand didn’t go unnoticed.

  “Sound like a squeeze to me! “ He snapped, putting on his best scowl. “Go bother some FNG’s, you might have more luck.” It was obviously the right note, as the two cops looked at each other. Something passed between them and they walked away.

  “Phew! Thought they got us for sure then, Skipper.”

  “No, seen it before. Just a couple of Red caps looking for a little extra cash from some FNG's who don’t know any better. They know miners aren’t too careful about carrying their ID tags all the time.” Corporal Peters commented. Rice and Mike nodded, Peters being one of the two Marines who’d worked the asteroid belt back home.

  “Let’s not hang around, just in case they come back.” Sergeant Rice fingered his sidearm, a hard look on his face.

  “Easy, Charley, we don’t want to start a fuss, just yet.”

  “No, sir.” He took a deep breath. He didn’t like white mice, Sirrien or Earth.

  “You see any good places to plant something?”

  “All ready did, sir, two electrical junction boxes and some gas lines.”

  “What sort of gas?”

  “Don’t know, sir, they’re labeled in French.” Mike chuckled.

  “Let’s hope it wasn’t a fuel or a hydrogen line.”

  “Wow! Didn’t think of that, sir.”

  “Never mine, we’ll be several decks below if it is.” They reached deck five, and the crowd thinned out. The main concourse on this level seemed to be more offices and equipment stores than pleasure or entertainment. They were also more vulnerable here as most miners and traders stayed up on the main concourse. With the omnipresent security cams, it wouldn’t be long before someone in the control center started asking questions.

  “Now it starts to get tricky, so stay sharp.” Mike pulled his comm link out of his pocket and fit it over his ear, signaling the rest to do the same. At least now, he could communicate with them all directly.

  “Let's take a quick walk round the concourse as if we are going somewhere, the second team should be on its way by now.” He whispered, checking his timepiece.

  “Found an elevator, sir,” someone whispered in his ear, “they are spaced around the inner bulkhead about a hundred yards apart.”

  “Good, anyone got any idea where the launch bays are from here?”

  “From what I saw on this layout, they should be about half way round the station from here, sir.” Another voice answered a female one this time.

  “Good, let's head in that direction.”

  Two of the team turned and started walking at a good pace away from them, and the rest followed. They didn’t bunch up, and to a casual observer they looked like individual groups who happened to be going in the same direction. Mike did see one or two of them stop occasionally and examine an interesting store sign, betting they were planting something nasty. There was a lot to choose from, with exposed conduits and piping everywhere. It was more a matter of choosing the right place more than anything. At one point, Mike spotted a group of pipes and conduits running down a wall and disappearing through the floor. The hole around the bottom made a good place to drop one of his packets. Setting the arming trigger, he took a quick look round and dropped it in. The package fell about two feet before lodging against the seal off between decks. Just as he walked away, alarm bells started ringing, and for a moment, he thought he’d triggered some internal security sensor. A few of the other people in the hallway stopped and looked around, puzzled looks on their faces. Then the speaker system came to life and someone started babbling excitedly in French.

  “What’s he saying, sir.”

  “Something about, don’t panic, there’s no danger.”

  “Danger from what? Our diversion.”

  “Find a view port.” He whispered and started walking again.

  “There's a view port over here, sir, come and look.”

  Mike did, finding he could just see the edge of the solar furnace. As he watched, it started to wobble more and more, the red targeting laser missing the target crucible and flashing out across the void. Then it hit one of the space docks and something exploded as the concentrated sun beam cut a line of fire across the structure.

  “Okay, people, the funs started, let’s get to that elevator.”

  As they crowded in, the speaker system started issuing instruction in different languages, telling people not to panic, and that they should stay where they were. Mike nodded to Sergeant Rice, and with a smile, he triggered the first of the charges. Even four decks down, they felt the explosion and felt the elevator shudder.

  “Good grief, how much explosive did you use?” Mike asked, grinning from ear to ear.

  “Enough to get their attention, Skipper.”

  “You did that.”

  “Let's hope that wasn’t one of the power relays the control this elevator Sarg.” One of the Marines muttered.

  “Nar, going to hit them after we get out of there.”

  Their ride halted with a jerk and the doors slid open on the Seventy-six floor, and two armed soldiers immediately stepped towards them. Standing behind Mike, Rice triggered several more explosions. One was obviously the power to the ele
vator system, as the lights inside went dead.”

  “Hey, you can’t come down here, back upstairs where you belong!” One of the guards stepped forward, while the other looked up at the flickering light in the ceiling.

  “We can’t the elevator controls aren’t functioning.” Mike explained as he stepped forward.

  Behind him, two of the Marines fanned out, looking each way down the passageway. Without warning, they both fired stun bolts into the guards, dropping them to the deck.

  “That should save a lot of explanation, Skipper.”

  “Yes, I guess that’s would be a conversation stopper. Dump them in the elevators and close the doors.”

  Hopefully, the explosions and the wandering solar mirror were causing enough distraction in the control center they weren’t paying any attention to a few miners being on the wrong deck. Not that it mattered now. They were committed and getting close to their target. Mike and the team walked swiftly around the circular concourse until they ran into an armored steel door, blocking further progress. Mike examined the door and the keypad on the bulkhead and shook his head in exasperation.