The two tanks had moved from the hub doorway and were parked on opposite sides of the plaza, next to the flanking buildings. Against ground troops, a tank was a formidable weapon, but not so much against enemy warships. Recker knew those tanks were vulnerable and he didn’t envy their crews.
Overhead, a four-thousand-metre Daklan annihilator flew across at such a low altitude that Recker could make out the underside Graler turrets on its thick plating. The warship was travelling at speed and it spilled missiles and countermeasures into the sky. A moment after it passed, the rumble of its engines hit Recker like a solid wall and he heard the distinctive thump of missile propulsions.
“That’s the Langinstol,” he said, belatedly remembering the battleship’s name. “They’re acting as a mobile defence system.”
As he spoke the words, he watched a half-dozen streaks of Graler projectiles converge on incoming missiles. A split-second later, the Daklan tanks ejected missiles from their shoulder launchers and their chain guns roared. Countermeasures hit their targets and shards of pulverised alloy crashed into one of the dome buildings a few hundred metres to the left of the shuttle platform. Pieces from a second destroyed enemy missile landed much closer, hitting the ground directly between the tanks and flattening with the impact.
“Those were aimed at the comms hub,” said Aston.
“Some of the perimeter multi-launchers are assigned specifically to defend the comms hubs,” said Larson. “One of the Daklan officers told me.”
“Come on, we’re taking a shuttle,” said Recker, preparing to set off across the plaza.
Before he’d taken a step, movement caught his eye. Directly ahead, one of the desolators from the landing field lifted off, climbing with such ferocity that it dwindled to a grey speck in no more than a handful of seconds. As it gained altitude, the heavy cruiser unleashed its own countermeasures. Recker braced and the sonic booms hit him like a kick in the chest. A twin thump-whine of immense gauss coils discharging came next and he knew the desolator was firing its Terrus cannons at enemy warships high above the planet.
Once again, the annihilator’s countermeasures targeted incoming missiles and this time, a warhead made it through. A flash lit up the surrounding walls and the thunder of a plasma explosion filled the plaza. Instinctively, Recker turned, but he was too close to the comms hub. Wherever the missile had struck, he couldn’t see it from here.
Though Recker had only exited the comms hub a few seconds ago, it felt like he’d been inactive for many minutes. A rush of fear swept through him and, at that moment, he knew what it felt like to be an animal trapped in the headlights, frozen in place and waiting for death.
Aston felt it too. “We can’t head out into that, sir,” she said.
Faltering, Recker was on the brink of ordering a return to the comms hub. Much of the building was underground and maybe they could take shelter there until the worst of the assault was over. He couldn’t give in to the weakness. The Lavorix wouldn’t retreat from this and he doubted the combined Daklan and HPA fleets had the firepower to knock out even a single one of the enemy capital ships.
As if to drive the message home, several fast-moving objects dropped through the darkness ahead, their orange propulsions vivid against the night. Four were engulfed by plasma explosions, while the fifth escaped and disappeared behind the dark outline of the dome. Recker guessed what it was.
“A troop transport,” he said. “The Lavorix need a presence on the ground to storm the Aeklu and the Verumol.”
“If they’re throwing dropships at Ivisto, maybe they aren’t so confident they can crush our fleet,” said Larson.
The thought offered Recker some hope. He knew the Lavorix were experienced in war, but so were the HPA and the Daklan. Recker wasn’t ashamed to admit that the Daklan warships were better than their human equivalents and, just maybe, the allied fleet was putting up more resistance than the enemy were expecting.
“Come on!” he urged.
“I don’t think a shuttle is the safest place to be, sir,” said Burner.
“Would you prefer to walk, Lieutenant?”
Recker was acutely aware that flying across Ivisto in a shuttle was risky, but he didn’t believe those risks were much greater than those faced by any other personnel on the base. The Lavorix had plenty of high priority targets to focus on before they started wasting ammunition on the thousands of smaller vessels.
The doubts which had gripped Recker only seconds before faded and he sprinted towards the shuttle pad with the others following.
“Did anyone get in touch with Lieutenant Eastwood?” asked Recker as he ran between two gravity cars. In the cabin of one, the Daklan driver was in her seat, eyes closed like she’d stopped to take a nap.
Recker suspected the alien was dead, but he couldn’t afford the time to stop and check. He continued towards the shuttle pad, looking briefly over his shoulder at Comms Hub 3. The structure had suffered far more damage than he’d realised - the visible upper levels were buckled and thick smoke poured from the alloy. The most recent plasma missile strike had impacted near the base of the antenna and several of the support beams had been severed by the force of the explosion. Another direct hit and the thousand-metre structure would come crashing down.
Not intending to be around when or if it happened, Recker charged up the shuttle pad ramp. His nose caught the scent of burning metal and, from his elevated position, he saw the low-lying glow of fires to the south. Another seven or eight Lavorix missiles broke through the shield of countermeasures and each one created a white-glowing sphere of detonation in the command area of Ivisto.
At the top of the landing pad, Recker dashed for the door of the nearest shuttle. A smack of his palm on the panel gave access to the airlock.
Recker hesitated briefly on the threshold and scanned the visible skies. The Langinstol was low to the north and banking in a tight circle over the construction yard, while another annihilator – either the Vantrian or the Ildinir - was far to the south, along with a mixed group of HPA and Daklan heavies, protecting the most heavily-populated areas of the base. Each warship directed unending, concentrated firepower towards the unseen Lavorix attackers.
And then Recker saw it. An ovoid of blue raced across the sky from east to west, so high and travelling so fast that his eyes could hardly trace its progress. He knew what was coming and uttered a curt warning to his crew.
“Extractor.”
The enemy fired the weapon again and Recker’s grip on the handle at the side of the shuttle’s door weakened. His knees buckled and he toppled from the steps. His brain juggled its efforts to remain conscious with his body’s need to arrest its fall and Recker tried to twist in the air so that he wouldn’t land on his head or neck. His shoulder hit something and he caught a glimpse of Aston.
Before he hit the ground, Recker blacked out.
Someone groaned.
“Shit,” said a voice. Maybe it was his own, though he couldn’t be certain.
The pain hit Recker and he felt as if each individual nerve ending had been wired up to an electrical supply. He had nausea as well, either resulting from the pain or just another effect of the Extractor attack. For a few seconds he lay unmoving, too drained to do otherwise. Slowly – not nearly as quickly as he’d have liked – the pain became more of a background distraction than the all-encompassing agony it had been at the start.
He opened his eyes and discovered he was facing the sky. Objects and lights moved across his vision and the effort of focusing was too great. With his return to awareness, Recker noticed he was lying on top of an object – an object which was hurting his spine.
“Get off me, sir,” said Aston weakly.
“I’m comfortable,” Recker said. It wasn’t a time for jokes, so he had no idea why he came out with the response.
“Move,” Aston said, pushing him away.
Larson was first to her feet and she offered Recker a hand up, which he gratefully accepted. Once he was uprig
ht, he hauled Aston from the ground.
“Thanks for breaking my fall,” he said.
“No problem.” Aston stooped to collect her rifle and grabbed Recker’s at the same time.
“Here.”
Recker took the gun without looking, since his eyes were aimed upwards. He didn’t know how long he’d been unconscious, but that last Extractor discharge had been harder to handle than all bar the very first one he’d suffered on Oracon-1. It hadn’t just been him and his crew affected – the personnel in the defence fleet had evidently been knocked out as well, and the Lavorix had taken advantage, albeit in a surprisingly limited fashion.
One of the allied spaceships – either a desolator or an HPA heavy cruiser – was aflame, far to the south. The warship was turning sluggishly and its countermeasures came in sporadic bursts. Two of the other vessels had also taken damage and plasma clung to the Langinstol’s upper plating.
Recker was desperate to find out what was going on, and even more desperate to play a role in it, but his short-term priority was to reach the shuttle’s cockpit. Warily, he checked for signs of a Lavorix energy shield anywhere overhead. Wherever the enemy craft had gone, it wasn’t here and the optimist in Recker suggested that the attacking Law of Ancidium had only dared a single, rapid flyover because its shield was taking too much punishment.
“The enemy could have landed another dozen transports while we were out cold,” said Aston.
“I know,” said Recker. “And they could have knocked out all of these visible warships protecting Ivisto at the same time. They didn’t, and to me that means the Lavorix are under more pressure than they expected.”
“Without the Extractor’s insta-kill to rely on, they’re not so tough,” said Aston.
They both knew the Laws of Ancidium were more than just mobile Extractor guns, but it was good to think the Lavorix couldn’t simply murder everyone on Ivisto with the press of button. Their energy shields could soak a lot of damage – Recker had seen first-hand how much – but he’d also seen that their power reserves were finite. Hit those shields hard enough and for long enough and eventually they’d collapse.
By this moment, Lieutenant Burner was awake and on his feet, though he looked like crap. He didn’t complain.
“Come on,” Recker urged.
For the second time, he climbed the shuttle’s boarding steps and this time he made it into the interior, with his crew right behind. They dashed into the cockpit and Recker dropped into the pilot’s seat. The nausea threatened to return following the burst of action, but he wouldn’t allow it. Taking deep breaths, he scanned the console in front of him.
“The shuttle’s comms are offline,” he said.
“While it’s in range of the base, its hardware is programmed to route through the comms hubs,” said Burner from the second seat. “I could override it in a few seconds on an HPA shuttle. It might take me a couple of minutes to figure it out on this Daklan craft.”
“Don’t bother. We’ve got our suit comms – we’ll rely on them for the moment. Check it out later if the chance arises.”
“Yes, sir,” Burner replied. “Bringing the sensors up.”
Recker’s hands were on the controls, but he wasn’t ready to lift off quite yet. “I need to find out what our situation is.” He opened a new channel, this one to Sergeant Vance. “Speak to me, Sergeant.”
Vance sounded gruffer than usual. “We’re staying low like you ordered, sir. We were under pressure from a bunch of the barracks officers, telling us where to muster. The last Extractor took away some of the heat. I guess those officers have enough on their plates without having to deal with stragglers.”
“What about the Daklan members of the platoon?” asked Recker, suddenly fearful.
“They’re awake, sir. Sergeant Shadar reckons that last Extractor was only a little worse than the one before it.”
“I believe the enemy keep adjusting the weapon, Sergeant. I don’t know how long it’ll be before we’re falling dead instead of just unconscious.”
“We’re the guinea pigs, sir. If the Lavorix kill us here on Trinus-XN, they’ll send that knowledge to their other ships.”
“One way or another, they’ll figure things out,” said Recker. “We’ve got to stop them recapturing the Aeklu and Verumol.”
“Is the order still for us to keep our noses out of trouble, sir?”
Vance didn’t usually ask for confirmation and that meant he was desperate to do something other than hide in a barracks block waiting for the incendiaries to land.
“Orders have changed.” said Recker. “You’re in Barracks 12?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’m in a shuttle with most of my crew. We’re coming to pick you up and after that we’re heading to the Aeklu.”
The relief was evident in Vance’s response. “Private Raimi’s plucking his eyebrows, sir. I’ll make sure he’s finished in time.”
“You do that, Sergeant.”
Recker closed the channel and addressed his crew. “According to the base map, we’re five klicks from Barracks 12. We’ll fly low – keep your fingers crossed the Lavorix don’t notice us.”
“I’ll find out if there’s any useful information out there,” said Burner, flexing his fingers in anticipation.
“And find out where Ken’s hiding,” said Recker. “We’re going to need him.”
“I’ll deal with that, sir,” said Larson on the officer channel. The cockpit only had three stations, so she’d harnessed herself into one of the passenger bay seats.
“Thanks.”
The shuttle’s bulkhead screen illuminated and Burner adjusted the focus of the sensors at the same time as he operated the comms. He could perform both tasks simultaneously on a fully-fledged warship, so doing the same on a small craft like this was no challenge.
“The Langinstol is still in the air,” said Recker. “That other annihilator is definitely the Ildinir.”
“Doesn’t look like it’s taken too much damage,” said Aston.
While the two Daklan battleships were apparently fully operational, the heavy cruiser which Recker had seen burning when he was on the shuttle pad, was losing altitude. It came down at a shallow angle and was barely more than two thousand metres above the tops of the structures below.
“The pilot has some control,” said Recker. “Enough to avoid landing on the base.”
Watching the final moments of a warship was something Recker usually found poignant – at least when it was a friendly ship or an enemy who’d fought well. Right now, he couldn’t allow his gaze to linger and he diverted his attention to the shuttle’s console.
“Up we go,” he said, lifting the vessel vertically into the air.
Immediately the shuttle was off the ground, Recker felt the imagined weight of Lavorix eyes upon him. A stationary craft was easily ignored, but a moving one invited all kinds of explosive interest. Once more, he reminded himself that the risks were acceptable and that the Lavorix had their hands full with a well-armed and well-trained fleet of allied warships.
Five klicks, he thought. Not far.
Recker’s plan was to pilot the vessel along the streets of Ivisto and hope the enemy were looking elsewhere. He fed in the power and the shuttle accelerated.
Chapter Five
Flying along the plaza’s eastern exit road, Recker held the shuttle midway between the eight-storey flanking buildings. Below, many of the personnel gravity cars were parked at the sides, while others were stationary in the middle of the road.
Bodies of Daklan personnel – thousands of them - lay everywhere, some sprawling from the cabins of their vehicles and others in the road. A few of the aliens had regained consciousness and these ones sought refuge in the buildings nearby.
Several of the larger vehicles – trucks and a lone tank - had veered into the smaller vehicles parked at the edge of the road, while others had come to a standstill. One flatbed transport was crossways over several lanes, making it difficult for a
nything coming behind to get through. The road was on the brink of becoming completely blocked.
“The Daklan took that last Extractor attack badly as well,” said Aston.
“At least they aren’t dead, Commander,” said Recker, hoping that the unmoving aliens were simply unconscious.
“How long before the base commander gets hold of the situation?” asked Burner. “Everything looks screwed up at the moment.”
“I spoke to Daxtil-Tilok already,” said Recker. “He sounded like he was up for the fight.”
“You’ve met him before?” asked Burner.
“Yes – first impressions were good, but there’s not much he can do if three-quarters of his troops are out cold.”
Recker didn’t invite any more questions and glanced at the base map he’d called up on one of his screens. The shuttle appeared as an orange dot overlaid onto a satellite image of Ivisto. A short way ahead, he planned to turn south along one of the wider streets. Maybe the shuttle would be a little more visible taking this route, but Recker wanted to reach Barracks 12 as soon as possible.
“There goes that heavy cruiser,” said Aston.
The still-burning hull of the warship vanished from sight behind the buildings on the starboard feed. Its rate of fall had increased and Recker guessed the pilot had lost the last vestiges of control. If the spaceship landed outside the base, the shockwave damage would hopefully be limited to the perimeter structures.
“I’m picking up some bits and pieces on the tier two command and control channels, sir,” said Burner.
“What sort of bits and pieces?”
“We are dealing with a single Law of Ancidium, name unknown and capabilities unconfirmed, but with mass and dimensions similar to those of the Aeklu. The enemy capital ship was accompanied by twenty other vessels of varying sizes and capabilities.”
Empires in Ruin Page 4
