She had no answer, so for now, aloof, all business. That was the way to be, and it would certainly be easier without him on the gateship, throwing her off balance, speaking the names of her nameless ghosts. She sighed, a response no one beyond the steely cabin could see, and used her arcom’s remaining hand to gesture the marines forward.
The men ushered Tarek aboard one of the shuttles, stepping around the technicians who were working quickly to unload additional ammunition for Rease’s company. The CAG wasn’t keen on sending more shuttles to an unsecured vessel, but those supplies were vital. The arcoms had already lost three of their number, and now they needed to either resupply or withdraw completely. This batch of materials was evidence that command wasn’t yet willing to give up on their prize.
But munitions weren’t the only thing that unloaded. One of the shuttles disgorged a contingent of technicians and two additional marines flanking the rarely seen Field Officer-issue space suit. In practice, it was not terribly unlike a normal armoured suit, but with a subtle dull gold stripe on the shoulder. Identifiable but without making the man a target for every enemy in a thousand yards.
The officer made his way over to stand before the arcom and looked up at it. Through the visor, she could make out a snowy beard packed into the helm and so she wasn’t surprised to hear Commander Lyle’s voice over the comm.
“Lieutenant Rease, if you would step down. We need to chat.”
Rease thought about objecting, but if pushed he could make it an order, so she put her wolf into standby mode and depressurised the cabin. Once the whoosh of hot, sparse air had replaced the atmosphere she popped the cabin, kicked down the ladder for later and jumped to the floor.
“Five stars,” Lyle said, giving a small golf clap as she rose from her half-crouched landing. “Oh to be young again.”
“You’re certainly young at heart,” she said with a salute, “or otherwise crazy, given you’ve come over to this very dangerous ship.”
“Perhaps. How is the operation?”
“Involved. This place is basically a warehouse of Maulers, and that was fine while they were spread out and asleep. Now they’re awake and gathered and even with the massive hurt we put on them earlier, they still outnumber us.” She pulled out a data slate and opened the crude map of the ship she’d made. “We’ve more or less secured the fore half of the ship, all the way up to the interior gate. They’re pushing pretty hard to get it back.”
“A perfect assessment for a Lieutenant,” Lyle nodded appreciably. “But I know you think a level above that, you just don’t like to point it out too much because it makes my colleagues uncomfortable.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere.”
“It certainly sold a lot of hats.”
“Well the situation is far more precarious than it looks. Everything we’ve found so far suggests this ship is unmanned and that means the only reason the real crew haven’t driven us into the pressure floor yet is because either a communication lag or a lack of command experience is delaying their ability to assess the risk/value proposition of defending the ship versus destroying it.”
“I thought the same thing. What’s your plan?”
“I’ve got Richter’s men tearing open panelling around key systems, tracking conduits. Even if it’s remote control, it must still have computers in it to facilitate that but…” She licked her lips. “…that’s not going to be fast enough.”
“Okay, so stop thinking with only the assets you have at your disposal, what if you had the whole carrier, what would you do?”
“We use explosives and fighters to scrap the rest of the guns. Then bring in the Arcadia and hook up to tow while I relocate my people to the aft of the ship. We disable the engines and then Arcadia pulls this monster out.”
“You recognise the serious risk that poses to the carrier?”
“I’m not usually one for risking lives to capture something as airy as ‘intel’ but we’ve been fighting ghosts since this war started. This ship is the first real strategic target, and more importantly, it’s our only link to the rest of the enemy’s infrastructure. I’d risk half the battlegroup for that.”
“Funny you should say so. Captain Pierman has actually done that by leaving the formation.” He rubbed the chin-guard of his helmet thoughtfully. “Your plan is audacious and would work, but I think I can improve it somewhat. Your biggest problem is all these Maulers, correct?”
“It’s the one thing we have no shortage of.”
“Certainly. I have a theory that I think we can test quite quickly. If I’m right, you’ll have free rein of the ship, and if I’m wrong, there should still be time to implement your plan. Want to guess what it is?”
Rease’s response was immediate but not enthusiastic. “You want to use the portal to get rid of them.”
“Now that almost wasn’t sporting.” Lyle looked at her out of the corner of his eye. “You’ve already looked into this, haven’t you?”
She shrugged. “With a little repair work, Richter’s people believe they could convince the internal gate to activate, but there has to be a device… a signal that instructs the Maulers to go through it.”
“Have you considered that the gate could be the signal?”
She put her hands on her hips and looked up into the corner of the room. “I uh… no. It seemed too easy.”
“Pessimism is a healthy survival trait, but for this you need to think like an engineer. Minimalism! Why build something extra when you already have a completely unique phenomenon to do the work for you.”
“So you think if we activate the gate they’ll, what… just wander through?”
“I think it will be extremely quick to try, and since I deduced you’d want to focus Richter’s marines on your original plan, I brought along some friends who know quite a bit about Mauler technology.” He gestured to the technicians behind him.
Rease tapped her fingers against her hip in thought for several seconds and then nodded. “Alright, let’s do it.”
****
Constellation Carrier CNS Arcadia
Bryson IV Local Sector, Bryson System
27 April 2315
Mail day.
It had a special place in the heart of every soldier that was differentiated by neither geography nor era. Even in the fleet, where they were in more common contact than most, personal communications were still only sent in bursts when the fleet deemed it was safe to do so. Since they’d left port for Grimball almost two weeks ago, there hadn’t even been discussion of a mail day.
Kelly reclined on her bunk in the barracks with a data slate in her lap, sketching out a message home while Bracket and Fury sat about the room doing the same. In the one announcement, the Undying had been told Tarek had been recovered safely, grudgingly congratulated on a successful mission, and advised of an imminent mail burst. Seeing so much good news come out of the CAG’s mouth at once had left Kelly expecting a bomb drop announcement at the end. Against all odds, he hadn’t finished by saying, ‘…and your squadron is disbanded’.
So here she was, on the down shift and writing to all the people she’d left at home. She lived for mail day, not just for her family and friends back home but for the overall positivity it brought to the people around her. They got to reach out to the spouses and children and parents and say all manner of things the most important of which was, by tradition, never said, namely, I’m still alive.
“A bit out of the void, isn’t it?” Bracket said. “I mean who can come up with something to write home in less than an hour?”
Fury’s red curls appeared above Kelly as the pilot leaned in from the bunk above hers. “I heard,” she said conspiratorially, “that they’re sending out a message about the gateship and they want to hide it in the mail burst.”
“Or,” said Kelly, “we could be flying in a soup of electromagnetic interference, and they need to send a shuttle up anyway.”
“To tell them about the gate!” Fury insisted, determined that
her theory not be side-lined.
“Well, that is the news of the hour.”
“Half hour is more like it,” Bracket grumbled.
“Sobbed the princess,” Kelly added.
Fury’s red curls disappeared to be replaced by her bare feet as she sat on the edge of her bunk. “Could be worse, you could be in Cold Sabre: they’re going to miss the mail run all together.”
“Yeah, but at least they’re getting to blow stuff up,” Bracket pointed out.
“And they don’t have stinky feet hanging in their face,” Kelly jabbed the nearest offending extremity with her stylus.
“Cow,” Fury squeaked, pulling her feet up to sit cross-legged.
“Heifer,” Kelly countered playfully.
“Bovine!”
“Udder mudder.”
“Okay, you made that one up,” Fury pouted. “Bracket, adjudicate.”
“Can’t. Busy writing,” he said over a stifled laugh.
Kelly was about to say something else when Errant entered the room, or rather he almost entered it, lingering in the doorway with one hand on the frame as though perched and ready to take flight again any moment.
“You guys have to see this. They’re tethering the Arcadia to the gateship!”
“They’re going to tow it!?” Bracket half stood.
“Is your letter done?” Kelly pointed to his bed with her stylus without looking up from her own project. “You gonna make your mama cry because you wanted to see some rope instead of telling her you’re still in one piece?”
Bracket looked uncertainly from Kelly to Errant.
“Your loss,” Errant said after another heartbeat and then pushed off the doorframe and disappeared up the hall.
“Dear mum,” Bracket quoted sitting back into his bunk. “Because of you I missed the most awesomest thing that was ever awesome.”
“Dear Bracket’s mum,” Fury added. “Your son is a brat, good job.”
“Dear your mum, your daughter is an udder mudder.”
“Oh fuck you both.”
****
Mauler Gateship Tagged ‘Bandit-Nine-Zero’
Bryson IV Local Sector, Bryson System
27 April 2315
The hairs on the back of Rease’s neck were prickling as she checked on her team one more time. The arcoms had split into two defensive lines; the first was just aft of the catwalk that crossed the gate and had been pushing back Mauler attacks on and off for the last half hour. The second line, where she waited in her still-damaged machine, was the side of the bridge nominally considered ‘friendly territory’.
Between the two units, Commander Lyle’s techs were just wrapping up their preparations to activate the internal gate. Repairing the damage Tarek had wrought earlier had been a simple matter of replacing some overloaded circuits and setting up some external conduit to circumvent the section he melted. A few last adjustments and then it would be time to pull back the arcoms, activate the gate, and see what happened.
But the prickling sensation wouldn’t go away, it demanded action. Rease licked her lips.
“Heads up, ground team, I’m going to get the first defensive line to fall back now. Hollands, you get that: back to me, quick and careful.”
“Copy boss,” Hollands replied.
One of the two platoons at the first defensive line fell back, the four arcoms dashing across the bridge under the cover their colleagues. Though there were Mauler positions further down the main corridor, they did not stir in response to the repositioning of troops. Rease adjusted her arcom’s one handed rifle grip.
“Don’t leave us hanging out here, LT.” It was a new voice, Doctor Parish of the technical team, chirped up.
“Then pick up the pace doc, we’re running out of time.”
That comment brought Commander Lyle into the channel. He was watching the situation from a forward observation post safely back from both defensive lines. “Predator One-One, this is Chapeau. Why the sudden rush?”
Rease worked her mouth for several seconds trying to articulate what was bothering her in a rational way, that being the only way Commander Lyle would accept. Finally she gave up, she didn’t have time to be fancy, none of them did. He’d either understand or he wouldn’t.
“Going with my gut, Chapeau. Things have been smooth for too long.”
“Relax,” Parish said. “We’ve just hooked up the power to the gate and…”
His voice trailed off as the interior gate started to move.
“Hollands, Parish, everyone, back to me, now!” Rease bellowed into the comm.
“We didn’t activate it… it shouldn’t be activating.” Parish already sounded puffed as he and his team lumbered back from the gate, further behind them, the last platoon of arcoms hammered the deck with armoured feet as they made a run for the fall-back position.
Rease leapt up and dashed towards the bridge, the spinning picking up rapidly in her peripheral vision. By the time she reached the gate, the ring had become a blur, its features disappearing into a sea of motion. Two arcoms passed her as she came to a halt, the third and fourth were almost step for step so she reached across the gate and grabbed the nearest, hauling it across the line.
The gate fired.
The sound was like ground zero for an artillery strike and the force was not dissimilar. Every part of her body tingled and then went numb, and she was thrown into darkness as her machines circuits overloaded. Like a rag doll she was hurled about in her restraints as her arcom suffered three massive impacts in quick succession.
Dazed she reached out for the controls only to have her vision bloomed with white auras and the taste of metal fill her mouth. Subsiding, she concentrated on her breathing until her senses began to return. She hurt, that was an unsurprising first perception, she hurt almost everywhere. Sound returned next, she could hear the gate and a scraping from behind her, the latter made sense as her inner ear found equilibrium and informed her that the arcom was on its back and sliding.
Reaching out, she flicked the toggle for a reset and got nothing. She lit her pressure suit’s shoulder lamps and checked the emergency gauges and immediately understood why the reset hadn’t worked. This was no blown fuse or short circuit; despite its electromagnetic shielding the arcom had become so overloaded its ion plant had shut down to avoid going critical. Letting out a breath she realised how close she’d been to electrostatic oblivion.
“Lieutenant, you okay in there?” the voice was Corporal Dryden and it came just as she felt the arcom’s sliding stopped. The contact came via her pressure suit’s communicator, a much weaker device but a thankful backup, given the circumstances.
“I’m glorious,” Rease replied with all the sarcasm she could muster. “Were you dragging me just now?”
“Just getting you clear, boss.”
“My arc is dead,” she said. “If I pop out for a look now, I’m not going to fall right into a lava pit or something am I?”
“Not so much.” There was another grinding noise and the world swung as her arcom was shifted into a sitting position to clear the access hatch. “If you’re pining for some danger, I could drag you back.”
Rease didn’t respond, she gingerly hit the emergency cabin release and then winced as the whole compartment jolted with micro-detonations. When her ears stopped ringing, she reached out and pushed the back hatch open and blinding light flooded in.
On unsteady legs, she climbed out and pulled herself onto her arcom’s abused shoulder. The gate had opened and had cut off their view of anything on the other side of the bridge. As Dryden had said, she’d been pulled back to the defensive line along with the other machine she’d grabbed. The last member of the defensive line was back at the gate, or at least the hand of the arcom was, sheered away by the energy of the portal and leaving no clue as to where the rest of the machine was. Given the hit Rease had taken just being near it, she didn’t have high hopes for the pilot.
“Hollands,” Dryden informed her. “He took the rear guard
.”
Of course he did, Rease thought as she swallowed the bloody saliva in her mouth. She wished she’d been able to take her helmet off, she wished she’d been able to rinse and spit, she wished she hadn’t lost a third of her men to take only half the damn ship.
“Chapeau,” she said finally, counting on her suit signal bouncing from Dryden’s transmitter. “Do we know if it’s working?”
“Happily it is,” he responded. “one of the cameras on the other side is still giving us a feed and the Maulers are charging through en masse.”
Rease looked up at the portal. All she could see from this side was an angry wall of black oil, lightning casting rainbow reflections as it forked to and fro about its surface. “Where’s the portal linking t…”
The words died on her lips as she figured it out, and through the pain in her chest, she felt her adrenalin start to pick up, her heart beating faster as that sense of imminent danger came back. Lyle’s people hadn’t opened the portal. That meant the enemy had and there was only one reason they would do that. Communication.
She abandoned her conversation with Lyle and switched to the marine prize crew frequency, “Lieutenant Kalen, have your people got control of the ship yet?”
“No sir, we’re sti—”
She cut him off by switching channels again. “Arcadia Control, cripple the gateship immediately, confirmation code ‘Albatross’.”
****
Search Grid Charlie-One-One
Bryson IV Local Sector, Bryson System
27 April 2315
“Arcadia Control, cripple the gateship immediately.”
Rease’s urgency was heard clearly through the headsets of the crew on the Warhorse.
“Confirmation code ‘Albatross’.”
It was one of the last things Jackson had wanted to hear. He’d never had much taste for being in combat, and Silver’s hell-raiser flying had more than fulfilled that. If that weren’t enough, there was also the fact that the ship the Arcadia would be shooting at was not just tethered to the carrier but also to the Warhorse herself.
Threshold of Victory Page 25
