Winged Hussars (The Revelations Cycle Book 3)

by Mark Wandrey

  “Maneuvering,” Chug replied, and everyone felt the ship shift away from the tanker, which was now beginning to spin faster and faster.

  “Marines, update,” Alexis called.

  “Corporal Johansson reporting,” the voice came over the PA.

  “Where is Sergeant T’jto, Corporal?” the captain asked.

  “She was injured, though not badly.”

  “Very well, report.”

  “We estimate the boarding party to be between six and eight in number. They came aboard through the Deck 32, Section 2 maintenance hatch. It appears they overrode the security.” She stopped for a moment, and the sounds of laser fire could be heard. “Two of them are confirmed dead. Oort and Jeejee have several pinned down behind Reactor One. The sergeant and I have a couple more cornered in auxiliary engineering control. Private Zit is out hunting stragglers.”

  “Any sign of engineer Long and his team?”

  “They are trapped in primary control, sir. It’s a crossfire situation. We’ve exchanged hand signals with them. Most of his staff appear okay. Someone spotted the boarders, and he had his people retreat into control and barricade themselves. By the looks of the damage to the control runs, it’s likely communications were severed.”

  “Smart bug,” Paka said, to which Alexis nodded, then spoke.

  “How bad is the damage down there?”

  “I’m no engineer, sir.” She paused to fire several times. “That said, there are some leaking pipes and a few alarms going off. No fires, and our radiation meters aren’t freaking out. For the time being, I think we’re okay. It’s a standoff.”

  “Can you get a communicator to Long?” It was silent for a moment.

  “I think I can get Zit to sneak one in there.”

  “Then do so. I need to find out our options, and only Long can give me them.”

  “Understood.”

  Alexis ground her teeth as she watched the tanker on the big Tri-V display spin faster and faster.

  “Karma Control is on the radio,” Hoot said. “They want to know why we’re firing.”

  * * *

  Rick had just enough warning to call on his zero-G training and roll his shoulder into the hurtling figure. Lynn wasn’t that lucky. She was much newer to fighting and moving in null gravity. She tried to bring her gun up without anchoring herself; her aim went wide and induced a spin.

  “Shit!” she said, and the attacker hit her at the same time Rick hit him.

  Rick released the rifle, letting it fly free on its sling as the impact shoved him back into the gangway up to Deck 31. He grabbed the suited figure, which was Human in shape and had a visored helmet covering its head, and he rolled as he hit. The move was designed to throw the attacker off him, but his enemy was just as good in zero gravity, and physically stronger! Since the figure was no bulkier than him, even in his armor, that meant it probably wasn’t Human. The helmet looked more elongated too.

  During his training, he’d learned how to fight many different alien races; each was its own challenge. One of the hardest was the MinSha, because of all the limbs. You used joint breaking maneuvers on them. Bigger races like Besquith you used leverage and kept away from their mouths. The truly big ones like Oogar and Tortantula? The best way to win was not to fight at all.

  When he tried to pull and flip the enemy, it grabbed Rick’s opposite arm and punched him. Hard. All the air went out with a “Whuf!” If it weren’t for the rigidity of the light combat armor, the punch would probably have broken ribs.

  As they rebounded, they faced each other head to foot, so Rick punched the figure in the crotch. He didn’t feel anything, and the enemy didn’t react other than to the blunt force. Not Human, then. No vulnerable genitals, elongated helmet, stronger than a Human. Gotcha, he thought. When they bounced off the roof of the gangway, he leveraged himself sideways enough to throw an armored elbow into the other’s face with his full strength, and was rewarded with smashing plastic. He got another punch to the ribs for his effort, but at least he saw his enemy’s face.

  “Zuul, eh?” Rick asked. The enemy barked and growled something Rick’s translator didn’t catch, as the Zuul rammed a knee into the side of Rick’s head, perfectly timing it with the collision against the top of the gangway to Deck 31. That one made Rick see stars. He shook his head to clear it, and the Zuul tried to snatch a compact gun on his belt. Rick slapped it aside as it fired; the weapon made an unimpressive ‘Pop!’ and tore a sizeable chunk of metal out of the nearby bulkhead.

  They floated in a tangle of limbs and bounced off bulkheads and ramps, both trying to get leverage on the other. Neither succeeded; Rick dislocated a finger, although he succeeded in getting the Zuul’s helmet off and bloodying his muzzle.

  Rick could hear Lynn cursing and crashing around; at least she was still alive. He’d finally managed to get a grip on one of the Zuul’s arms and was trying to put it in a joint lock when his enemy snatched the laser carbine’s one-point harness and jerked. Hooked around his neck armor, it jerked his face forcibly into the Zuul’s knee hard enough to make him black out. When he came to, the alien had him in a headlock and was choking the life out of him.

  Well, this sucks; finally get a good merc gig and won’t live a week. He tried to pull his leg up and get the knife sheathed there, but the Zuul sensed the move and wrapped both its legs around his torso, effectively neutralizing him. He tried throwing elbows, kicking out, slamming his head back, but nothing fazed the Zuul. His vision started to swim, and all he could think about was the friend whose name was lost to him.

  As his consciousness faded, Rick could have sworn he heard yelling. A second later, the pressure was gone from his neck, and he floated free, gasping for breath. Struggling to breathe, he grasped the rifle sling and pulled his carbine into his hands, searching for a target.

  “Calm down, mammal.” His vision focused on the black image of Zit. Next to him the Zuul was struggling feebly, blood flowing from several holes in its armor. It gushed in big red blobs, floating around or sticking to the walls. Zit held a pair of long, thin, red-stained blades in two of its arms.

  “They…got……the jump on us,” Rick choked out.

  “Rookies,” Zit chittered, spun, and rebounded off the wall back into engineering. Back down the gangway Lynn was grasping a handhold and trying to catch her breath as well. She was holding a hand against her leg, the armor there stained red from a wound. The Zuul she had been fighting was also losing blood rapidly. Zit had taken both enemies out in a matter of seconds, with just his knives! They heard the Goka over the squadnet.

  “Deck 32 is secure,” he said. “The larvae were in trouble. I dealt with it.” Rick felt his face burning and Lynn shook her head.

  “Are either of you injured?” Johansson asked. Rick wondered where T’jto was.

  “We’re fine,” Lynn said before Rick could say anything.

  “Okay,” Johansson said. “Continue holding the access.”

  “How badly are you hurt?” Rick asked, floating up next to his fellow trooper.

  “Fucker stuck me with a knife like the Goka had,” she explained. He gently pulled her hand away from the armor. Blood flowed, but didn’t spurt.

  “Yeah, I gotta get me one of those,” he said and opened his medkit. “Get your carbine up and watch while I look at this.”

  “Sure,” she said and shouldered her gun, sweeping it around to scan the area. The ship shuddered slightly, and they drifted down to thump onto the gangway. “We’re under thrust,” she said.

  “But not much,” he agreed. He pulled out the field nanite dispenser and checked the design. It was almost identical to the one he trained with on Earth. A selector let you choose the type of injury, either external or internal. Another was a severity selector, from one to five. He selected external injury, and guessed at two for the severity. “I hear these things sting a little,” he said.

  “Yeah, they’re—ARGH!” She contorted and yelled as he sprayed the full dosage over the w
ound. “Next time warn me!” she snapped and banged an armored fist against the wall. “Son of a bitch, that hurts!”

  “Sorry,” he said. He turned to put away the dispenser, so she didn’t see the grin on his face. By the time he turned back the bleeding had stopped. Trillions of tiny robots were busy hyper-accelerating her body’s natural repair factors and knitting the flesh back together. In less than five seconds, it was done, and she sighed.

  “I’d forgotten how much that hurts,” she said.

  “How many times have you used it before?” he asked.

  “Twice,” she said, “but both were more minor. That one must have nicked an artery judging by the way the blood was flowing.”

  “Better now?”

  “Yes, thanks.” Rick nodded and examined his left ring finger, bent at an odd angle. It wouldn’t help his marksmanship. With a sigh, he grabbed the finger and jerked. He gasped in pain; with a pop, it went back into joint.

  “Ouch,” he said through gritted teeth.

  “That was hard core,” Lynn said as they resumed their posts.

  They heard weapons firing from inside engineering, then footsteps came bounding down the ramp. Rick glanced back to see Sergeant Jones and Privates Bacord and L’kto of Raptor Squad approaching.

  “I thought the sergeant ordered you to stay on Deck 30?” Rick asked.

  “She said to come down and relieve you,” Sergeant Jones said. Rick saw Sergeant Jones wasn’t happy about it, either.

  “What are we supposed to do?”

  “Go find the MinSha sergeant,” Jones grumbled and gestured with his laser carbine into engineering. “We’re to hold the gangway. Corporal Jakal has the rest of the squad on the other gangway. The captain was afraid they’d try to cut through that one, even though the blast door was secured.”

  “We stand relieved,” Rick said and saluted, following the procedures he’d learned at Mickey Finn. Jones gave a halfhearted return salute.

  “You are relieved. Find Sergeant T’jto.” Rick and Lynn pushed off into the maze of main engineering.

  * * *

  Alexis had just finished a heated conversation with Karma Station’s defensive coordinator, a very annoyed Veetanho, when the intraship radio came alive. “Engineer calling CIC.”

  “Long, good to hear you are okay,” Alexis said.

  “We’re glad to be well,” the Jeha engineer replied. “I have four injured, but no dead. Two of my elSha techs spotted the boarders. We grabbed some guns and started shooting at them.”

  “Well done, Long.”

  “I’m not letting someone shoot up my engine room!” Alexis smiled at her chief engineer’s dedication. “They managed to cut communications and control. Marine Zhkt brought us a radio, so at least we’re in touch.”

  “Tell Private Zit, well done.”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  “What do you believe is their goal?”

  “The private says they killed a pair who were installing a patch in one of the main reactor control lines. I think they were trying to cause an overload.”

  “A forced overload might destroy the ship,” she said.

  “If they managed to override enough of the safeties,” the engineer agreed, “the blast could destroy the ship.”

  “Can we still use the maneuvering engines?” The engineer was silent for a moment before answering.

  “They should answer to your commands without main power,” he eventually said. “You will not get more than a tenth of a gravity on backup power.”

  “Understood,” she said. “Helm, maneuvering engines, get us out of here!”

  “Aye-aye, Captain,” Chug replied. A moment later they felt a tiny amount of thrust as Pegasus’ ion drives came online and began to move the ship.

  “The tanker is falling astern,” Flipper reported.

  “Very good,” Alexis said, “maintain maximum thrust, set course for the stargate.” She changed to the marine frequency. “Sergeant T’jto,” she called.

  “Here, Captain.”

  “You are injured?”

  “Just a leg,” she reported. “It’s serviceable at present.”

  “Very well,” Alexis said, “you heard the conversation with Engineer Long?”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  “We cannot allow the boarders to take control of the reactors.”

  “Private Culper just joined us; they held the deck exit. He says the enemy are Zuul.”

  “” Alexis shifted her attention away from the marines.

  “Who?”

  “”

  “How do we avoid it?” The answer was immediate and unambiguous.

  “”

  “Sergeant,” she said, addressing her marine commander once more.

  “Captain?”

  “Take them out using any means short of doing irreparable harm to the drives.”

  “Understood,” the MinSha replied. Alexis turned to her helmsman.

  “I need a sliding solution to make the next transition at the stargate.”

  “Next transition is in seventeen hours, forty-five minutes. We won’t make it on ion drive.”

  “I understand that,” she retorted. “I need a drop-dead time for getting our reactors online, including ready solutions as that time approaches.”

  One eyestalk turned back to look at her as a pair of Tri-V screens appeared, and the mollusk used a combination of manipulative pseudopods and pinplants to begin working the problem faster than any Human could.

  Come on marines, Alexis thought, get me control of my ship!

  * * * * *

  Chapter 25

  Rick and Lynn floated up behind a huge, robust-looking machine where Sergeant T’jto and Corporal Johansson were taking cover. A laser beam flashed against a pipe from the machine with a high pitched shring as they approached. Obviously, the enemy were still actively fighting back.

  “Are you both well?” T’jto asked as they arrived. Rick saw their sergeant had what looked like concrete wrapped around one of her legs; the limb was folded back and immobilized against her thorax.

  “We’re okay,” Lynn said, “what about you, Sergeant?”

  “It is just a leg,” she explained. “Dr. Ramirez and Nemo can repair it more permanently when time allows.” Another trio of laser shots flew at them, making Rick and Lynn duck. “Oort and Jeejee are busy with the last pair further aft; we need to deal with these. The engineering staff are worried they are going to try and overload the reactor.”

  “Do we have any remote bombs?” Rick asked. The others all looked at him curiously. “In Mickey Finn we had these little bombs we could fly with remote control drones, designed for situations like these.”

  “Ah, drone charges,” Johansson said. “Yes, but we don’t use them on our own ship.” She gestured around her at all the pipes and cables. “For obvious reasons.” Rick nodded; that made sense. He hadn’t been trained to defend a ship, only to assault. He reflected that those were indeed two entirely different objectives.

  “We have stun grenades,” he said and pulled one from his armor, suddenly thinking it was damned fortunate none of the pins had been pulled during the fight with the Zuul. Even with the Union technology, Humans had stuck with what worked when it came to grenades. A cylinder with a pin to arm it, and a spoon that flew free to start the timer. They didn’t have internal burning fuses, like the old Earth weapons, and you could program the detonation via a digital input, or a simple twisting action, from one second to five minutes.

  “The problem,” T’jto said, “is if we start pitching stun grenades, they’ll simply seal their helmets and ignore them. Combat armor can screen out the flash and the sound.”

  “Not if they don’t know they’re coming,” Rick said as Zit arrived, skittering along a cable run at high speed. Everyone turned and looked at the Goka, who stopped and regarded them suspiciously, his antenna waving back and forth.

  “Why are you al
l looking at me like that?”

  A few minutes later, Rick watched as Zit moved back along the cable runs. Jeejee reported he and Oort had the last one in the rear of the compartment trapped. It couldn’t get out, but they couldn’t get at it either. The sergeant elected to wait until these two trying to sabotage the reactor could be dealt with. Zit continued to make slow, deliberate progress toward the nexus of several machines, where the pair of Zuul lurked.

  Rick centered his scope on the Goka trooper on the other side of the compartment, waiting next to a junction of two pipes. At a word from Lynn, he turned and saw a large reddish Jeha moving along the wall. Like a massive millipede, its multitude of legs moved in coordinated waves to propel the alien toward them at a surprising speed.

  “The engineer?” Rick asked.

  “Ch’t’kl’tk,” Johansson said, struggling with the multiple guttural stops. “Captain calls him Long.” Rick smirked, it was a fitting name for such a creature. The Jeha arrived and examined them with its pair of mobile eyestalks. A pair of elSha hung on its side; they dropped off and grabbed their own handholds.

  Long took a device from its armored body with one of four long manipulative arms near the massive mandible-like jaws. Rick could see the engineer had a number of devices hooked to securing clamps glued to his armored body. The device turned out to be a monocular, which the engineer held in front of an eyestalk and observed where the Zuul were hidden.

  “We must hurry,” Long said after a moment.

  “We are,” Sergeant T’jto replied.

  “No, we really must hurry. We had a wavering of the containment field in this reactor.”

  “Could there be a breach?” Johansson asked, checking the radiation meter on her armor’s sleeve.

  “No, they stabilized it,” Long explained.

  “I don’t understand,” the Sergeant said. “If they want to blow the reactor, why stabilize it?”

  “Because they want to cause a catastrophic overload, not just blow it,” Long explained. “The compartments are designed to contain a reactor failure. They will blow out and limit the damage. Pegasus has experienced reactor failures before with minimal loss of life, and repairs were made. My assistants have been monitoring their activity through data feeds, and we’re sure they are trying to supercharge the reactor, then they’ll blow the F11 containment. The reactor will run away, and the explosion will destroy the ship.”