Jolo chose the farmer with the Ravi8 for the demo. He set up the hook and started to place the charges. One of the local rock busters, who used the charges every day, showed everyone a slightly better placement so the whole tower would lean over after the blast, much better than Jolo and Katy’s original position, which meant that even the Ravi8 would have plenty of power for the job. Jolo then gave the farmer one of the Fed rifles and showed him how to use it. When the tower fell everyone cheered. No one had been injured and they all stood around the burning base of the structure and watched as the drill slowed to a stop. More cheering ensued.
Then they all headed due east to the closest tower and did it all over. This time one of Mantis’s crew, a young girl Jolo guessed was no more than fifteen or so took down a tower all by herself. She had a small Federation surface recon boat that looked to be from the BG wars, but it brought the tower down with ease. By then it was nearly noon and everyone sat down in the shade of the fallen tower for more Fed meal packs. No one said a word about eating another Seafood #3. There were smiles all around.
Katy sat next to Jolo. “Do you feel it?” she said.
“The heat?” said Jolo, chewing on a mouthful of shrimplike protein in a synthetic tomato sauce, unwilling to give an inch.
“It’s called hope.”
He put his arm around her and watched the kids climbing on top of the dead tower, jumping into the sand, farmers talking to hardened space pirates, mothers holding Fed energy weapons. As the heat intensified, soon everyone was in the shade of the long, black alacyte structure, everyone smiling and full of confidence. But the excitement didn’t last very long.
Koba came through on Jolo’s portable comm. “Three inbound. Big boats. Probably cruisers.”
“How long?”
“30 or 40 seconds. Sorry. They popped in right near you. We’re on the way.”
Jolo jumped up, stared down the line of people, only a few knew how to fight, and even those that could fight were outgunned.
“BG coming!” he yelled. “Scatter. They can’t get us all.”
“What are you gonna do?” said Katy.
“Fight,” said Jolo, grabbing one of the magna-hooks and a Fed rifle. Meanwhile everyone was scrambling to get into their boats and escape. If only we had the Argossy and Mantis’s gunboats, thought Jolo.
The first Cruiser flew in low and dropped a charge and the farmer who took the first tower down and several others were killed instantly, a big dark hole in the sand right next to the tower. Then the BG boat swung around for another run on the core group still moving toward their hover craft. A tiny girl was in the sand crying and Jolo picked her up and handed her to Katy. Get to the Scout and run back the way we came. The Argossy will be here in a minute or so.
“We ain’t got a minute,” she said.
“I’ll try to buy us some time,” said Jolo. He jumped onto the tower and ran along its length toward the BG cruiser. The big ship swung around again low and Jolo threw the hook as high as he could and it caught the underside near the port wing. He worked his way up the cable line, then grabbed the hook handle and started firing the energy weapon at the small section near the middle between the landing pads that housed the fuel cells.
The cruiser fired once on the cluster of small boats just before they scattered. One exploded into a burning ball of metal. But soon the BG gained altitude and started spinning like a dog chasing its tail. It had a few small top-mounted anti-missile turrets, but had no answer for a mad half-synth with a tiny energy rifle. Jolo fought to keep from falling, the cruiser now several hundred meters off the ground, but kept firing on the fuel cell cover. He glanced down and could just make out the small boats all heading in different directions. He was sure Mantis knew and would be coming.
The BG boat suddenly dropped and Jolo slammed against the fuselage and nearly lost the rifle. Then it spun again, trying to get a shot on one of the tiny boats scattering across the cracked, orange dirt. It let loose the rail guns and more dirt flew into the air, but it missed, the smaller, nimble boat zig zagging out of harm’s way. The cruiser wasn’t as agile in atmosphere and it was usually targeting much larger boats, but Jolo knew the little boats would eventually be torn apart by the big guns. A thick cloud of orange dust covered the scene as the black ship searched for another target. Jolo continued to try to melt the alacyte under the cells as the big boat homed in on one hover craft speeding off toward the west.
The cruiser surged forward, following the small boat, and moved out of the orange cloud into the clear blue sky. The fuel cell cover was cherry red and the gun was burning Jolo’s arm. He wondered how much further he could push the Fed energy weapon which suddenly seemed so small and insignificant. But he knew if he could get through and hit the fuel cells the ship would be crippled. The big ship dropped altitude again and Jolo caught a glimpse of the small ship the BG boat was targeting.
His heart sank when he saw brown hair and the unmistakable round nose of the Scout. The little girl who was crying earlier was sitting next to her clinging on to the seat. The BG ship fired the ion cannons again, orange chunks of earth flying up a few meters off her left side. She dodged right, the little girl sliding back and forth, now huddled down in the floor board.
Jolo didn’t know if he could hold much longer. The magna-hook could drag a giant 20x box of Fed ship parts and never let go but his arm felt like it was on fire. He couldn’t tell if the pain he felt came from the heat of the fuel cell cover or it was just the strain of trying to hold on with his one hand. How long was a man capable of clinging, one-armed, onto a war ship? And then he had to remind himself. I am more than a man.
By now the BG boat was all over Katy. He wanted to tell her to bail out and let them take the Scout, but she continued to run, rail gun blasts tearing the ground around her. One shot caught the nose and the Scout’s front end dug into the ground a little, the Scout suddenly slowing as Katy and the small girl slammed into the windshield. But this worked to their advantage as the big ship flew right over them. Katy got the Scout going again and sped off, which gave Jolo a little more time.
When the big ship turned again to track the Scout, Jolo nearly flew off, but he could clearly see a hole had opened up in the thin alacyte fuel cell cover. Once the big boat had a bead on the Scout again, Jolo had a tiny window of opportunity, a small moment when the big boat was tracking straight. He aimed the gun and sent the tiny ion stream in through the hole. He held it as long as he could. Gave the rifle a moment to cool, then hit it again and again. He knew if he could get one to blow, the rest would go. The BG always attacked nose down, head on, the underside always out of harms way. Jolo figured a man with an energy weapon clinging to her underbelly had not been considered when the design team had gone to work.
Jolo heard the fuel cell blow and several things happened. The big boat slowed instantly, the worms had suddenly found themselves inside a black alacyte oven with a hot fire underneath. Jolo dropped, thankful he could finally let go of the hook, thankful he could let go the burning rifle. There was no more power left in his hand anyway. As he dropped to the ground he saw the Scout. Actually he saw the underside of the hover craft. One of the railgun blasts had finally hit. Right when the fuel cell blew.
Jolo landed on his feet and rolled in the hot sand, his arm still on fire and dirt in his eyes. But the pain was a distant second to his main concern: finding Katy. He came to a stop and tried to stand, but fell, dizzy and disoriented. He willed himself up, his eyes coming into focus and ahead he could see the nose of the Scout sticking up at an odd angle, facing him. The top was buried in the dirt and the bottom was reflecting the bright blue sky. He started running.
He made it to the hover craft and yelled Katy’s name, but no answer. One side was tilted a little higher so he pulled on it, but it was no use. Even with his strength he couldn’t move it. He tried again, screaming and straining, thinking Katy was trapped under the little boat, suffocating in the sand. And then he heard a voice.
&n
bsp; Katy came walking up with the kid. Her head was bloody and the kid was quiet and still in her arms. Before Jolo could make it to them he heard another sound. Thrusters. And for the first time ever, he was sorry they weren’t Fed. A black cruiser escort ship hovered directly over them. Jolo could see the hard edged shadow on the undulating sand at his feet. The larger ships were piloted by fully suited warriors. On smaller ships one worm piloted the craft, housed in a small, protective shell, sending signals to the ship just like the warriors send signals to their mechanical arms and legs. They didn’t have to use arms to press buttons and levers like humans. All they did was think where to go. And Jolo knew it was all over. He looked at Katy, still holding the child protectively.
The smaller BG boat’s turret swung around, pointed right at Jolo. He thought to run, but why? His hand went for the Colt, but he stopped. It was no use.
“Jolo, run!” Katy screamed. But he knew there was no running from this. He just looked at her.
Then he heared the unmistakable roar of the Argossy’s engines going full out. The BG’s turrets swung around, but it was too late. The Argossy’s ion cannons tore into the smaller craft right before ramming it. Katy ran up to Jolo just as the Argossy came around again.
“How’d you make it?” said Jolo.
“We jumped out right before,” said Katy. He gave her a hug, offered to hold the child, but she refused. By then the Argossy had landed. Greeley ran down the tail ramp holding Betsy.
“Come on!” he yelled, we got red dots all over the scanner. Black ships got the jump on us.
Katy quickly took the little girl to the Argossy’s tiny infirmary and the med bot started working on her. She hit her head when they dove out of the Scout.
Jolo checked the scanner display and Greeley was right. They would have to run and Koba didn’t need any encouragement. He had the old ship running full out ten meters off the ground. They flew right past the downed tower and Jolo’s heart sank. There were bodies laying everywhere. Burning hover craft. He wondered if anyone else had escaped. He stared at the still image of the site, and one thing gave him hope, the young girl on Mantis’s crew might have made it. Her boat was not among the destroyed hover craft.
“How’d you sneak up on the escort?” said Jolo.
“Because it thought we were a tiny surface boat. Right up until I rammed it,” said Koba.
“You did good,” said Jolo. But there was no joy in his voice. They’d taken down two towers and lost nearly everyone to do it.
Aftermath
On Duval
29 days left
Marco met Jolo and Katy in the hangar as the light of day began to fade, the gray walls taking on an orange hue. Jolo stood on the deck near the Argossy, burn marks on the front and several dents along the fuselage from the run in with the BG boat. He stared out across the ravine, a slight breeze blowing in. Then Greeley carried the child named Fiorna, her eyes open, to the med bay.
“The BG hit several different places on Duval at once,” said Marco. “I guess they figured out what we were up to.”
“We need some outside help,” said Katy, a bandage across her right eye. “What about Bertha? She contacted her core world people, right?”
“She got in touch, but…” said Marco. Then he just took a deep breath and shook his head, no.
“Lets talk to the Fed, then,” said Katy. “The BG just attacked innocent people. They gotta listen now.”
“Katy, the Fed don’t care,” said Jolo. “They stood by while the BG conscripted people from freighters. They allowed the BG to enslave entire towns to work the alacyte factory right here on Duval. The Fed turned a blind eye to it all. They ain’t gonna help!”
“What about the military?” said Marco. “There’s some good men, there. I know it.”
“I already tried that,” said Jolo. “I told a captain everything and he laughed at me. I got no faith in the Fed.”
“They’re never going to believe the pirate Jolo Vargas. And their war hero, Captain Vargas, is dead to them,” said Katy, putting her hand on Jolo’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. You’re right.”
“But what about Barthelme?” said Marco. “Maybe they’d believe him?”
“We can’t get to him,” said Jolo. “The prison planets are well-defended.”
“They were, until recently,” said Marco. “The BG can’t be everywhere at once. Especially when they are mobilizing for war. I’m still getting some information, but they aren’t as well defended.”
“So you think Barth can bring the Fed to our side?” said Katy.
“I think we should commandeer the biggest freighter we can and get everyone off this bomb of a planet,” said Jolo.
Marco put his arm around Jolo. “Son, I think you should get Barth.”
Jolo took a deep breath. “I want to get him, too. But it’s crazy to think about rescuing one man when we’ve got a planet to evacuate.”
“That one man could sway some people. And we can’t do this alone,” said Marco.
……
The next day everyone gathered in the Atrium surrounded by Marco’s plants. Most were seasonal vegetables of every shape and color, from small, green pumpkins to big, yellow, butternut squash. Behind the rows of planters stood a forest of edible perennials from the large-leafed sea kale to okawakame vines. Beams of bright light filtered down into the open space, a gift from the hidden solar illuminators on the surface above, keeping all of the greenery healthy and lush.
Spirits seemed to lift a little in this room, and Jolo knew that’s why Marco had everyone meet here. It’s easier to think dark thoughts in the artificial light of a hangar bay or even in the library, but standing in the real light of day in a jungle of green could put a positive spin on just about any situation. George’s update last night after the unexpected BG assault, in which three separate tower busting crews were attacked, had sucked the hope out of Duval. Only five towers had gone down yesterday, triple that had been erected by the BG, and 52 of Duval’s people had been killed.
In the center of the Atrium, everyone stood around a holographic display of a planet called Sotec, in the Scina system. It looked so small there in 3D above the display table, but Jolo knew on the ground were large numbers of warriors defending the slaves, and BG warships in orbit above. Sotec was an ice mining operation. The BG used the prisoners to drill for and secure ice, which then got loaded into black transport ships and hauled off to BG strongholds in Grana space.
“Well, ain’t that a nice little picture,” said Greeley. “All we gotta do is take out the boats up top and then disable the ice harvester, snuff out a few walkin’ mech worms, grab the fat man, and come on home.” The big man was ready to go. He shook his head up and down like the decision had been made and it was time to prep the Argossy.
“How many in orbit?” said Koba.
“Usually one Destroyer and several cruisers,” said George.
“You’d think there’d be more now,” said Jolo. “If the BG take out Barc, then that little ice rock Sotec is even more important.” Jolo paused for a moment to consult his computer, then continued. “Don’t forget: Barc’s floating desalination plants crank out about 18 million cubic meters of fresh water a day. If that goes then the BG will protect Sotec. They’ll keep it away from thirsty Fed boats.”
“So that’s just great. It’s hopeless,” said Katy. “Marco?”
“I agree with Jolo’s logic, but the last message I got from one of our pirate friends in the area was that Sotec only had three cruisers in orbit. The Destroyer is probably moving in closer for the coming assault on the core planets.”
“With Mantis’s help we could take out three cruisers,” said Jolo, and suddenly the plan was back on.
“And then we bust in, have us a little worm hunt, grab the old engineer, and bug out,” said Greeley, this time sure the plan was a go.
Everyone looked hopeful, except Hurley, who usually didn’t have much to say, until then.
“You know about the harvesters?” said Marco.
“Know about ‘em? Hell, I used to run an old Titan Mark II on larger asteroids back in the day. The T2s ain’t around no more and the BG probably got the newer Mark IVs. I seen two old Asmor Stinger pirate ships one time try to disable a T3. Both them Stingers ended up in the ice.” Jolo queried his computer for the Titan IV schematic. It was twice as big as a Federal building on Sol and cost four times as much to construct. The early ones were Fed designed but were now made on Grantis near BG space. They used a compartmentalized design so even if you breached the outer hull, the big machine would keep right on going.
“How’s an ice hauler gonna take down a gunship?” said Greeley.
“That’s what everybody forgets,” said Hurley. “After a few of them T2s got taken in pirate attacks, the newer models got fitted with some real nice guns. The T4s got ion cannon turrets on top as big as that monster the Fortinbras was carrying. That freighter only had one of those big bastards and it nearly iced the Argossy. How about four pounding on you?”
The room went quiet again. Greeley started to speak, but stopped. His face squinched up in hard thought. “Well, shite,” he said, “we’ll never even get a sniff of that frozen rock even if we did get past the orbital patrols.”
“Obviously, we’ll have to sneak in,” said Jolo. “Hurley, the T4s gotta get regular supply runs, right?”
“There’s a hangar up top right between all the guns. Provisions come on supply drones. There’s a bunch of drone couplers up top and they fly in and plug right into the harvester.”
43 Days to Oblivion (The Jolo Vargas Space Opera Series Book 2) Page 9
