But much of the point defence weaponry on the Mauler’s hull had been destroyed, either by the Undying in their efforts to cover each other’s assaults or by the ceaseless ripple-fire barrage from the Arcadia. Along its flank, the defences had become thin, very thin.
“Consider it done,” Phillips said, adjusting his course. “Candlelight, same plan as before, but now were going to take out the flak cannon, starboard-aft, see it?”
“Copy that, it’s the one rolling into my sights right now.” She dropped into her position behind him.
“I’m going to cut laterally near your strike path.” A new voice – Silver’s – entered the channel. “Please don’t shoot me.”
“Going to give us some luck, magic man?”
“I do what I can,” he said. “Don’t try this at home.”
As they continued their approach Phillips and Candlelight broke their formation and began to cut back and forth erratically, creating a double vision effect for the guns tracking systems. The turret swivelled about for a solution, fired off a couple of misses and then settled directly onto Candlelight’s flight path.
That was when Silver shot past with a spray of gunfire that shattered the flak round just as it fired. The shell came apart well short of its target and the gun went back to tracking madly about.
“Boys, I hope you’re watching,” Candlelight whooped. “That is how you impress a girl.”
“This isn’t a singles’ bar,” Phillips said. “Do the thing.”
“Boom,” she said as a barrage of rockets shot past the Sabrecat’s wing and turned the turret into a surface of jagged metal craters.
****
Orbital Gate Structure
Inimicus, Unknown System
30 April 2315
As he waited for the gate to spin up, Vickers ran through the plan in his head once more. They’d reviewed and rehearsed it endlessly, Rease had stressed that there would be no time for hand-holding once they stepped through the portal. There were only two ways the Lieutenant could have acquired such a clear picture of the facility and its response time: either one of the Exodites had spilled his guts, or they were relying on the Arcadia’s resident seer. One was just as good as the other from Vickers’ perspective, as long as it was right.
According to Rease, the base on Inimicus was divided into two sections, dubbed in the plan as the ‘Big Facility’ and the ‘Little Facility’. The Little facility was the real target; it contained all the things you really wouldn’t want a Mauler getting into, including the personnel accommodations, sensitive machinery and, most importantly, the command centre.
The Big Facility was where the Maulers were produced and stored. As the name implied everything in it was Mauler scaled, including the residents. In an ideal world, they could have ignored it, but the entire architecture of the Big facility was designed to deliver Maulers to the gate. Once their intrusion was detected, the enemy would start making those deliveries with excessive enthusiasm.
“Gate activating,” one of the technical specialists reported.
Vickers inched his arcom back a little as the portal exploded into existence. He’d seen what was left of Holland’s machine back on the gateship and had no desire to be obliterated so completely that they couldn’t find enough remains to say for sure he’d been killed. It was just one more crime on the shoulders of the people Vickers couldn’t wait to meet.
“Remember, we’ll be fighting mostly Exodites today,” Rease announced over the comm. “Their soldiers won’t look a lot different to our marines, so pay attention to what you’re shooting at. Now, who wants win this damn war?”
The unit cried out in agreement and Vickers joined them for the sake of comradery. Let others concern themselves with the war, Vickers just wanted the opportunity for some overdue revenge.
“And who wants to make these Exodites pay for what they’ve done?” Rease called out.
That was a call he could get behind, and his voice wasn’t even the loudest.
“Then let’s not keep them waiting. With me!”
And then she was through the gate, and Vickers was right on her heels.
****
Outpost Origin
Inimicus, Unknown System
30 April 2315
The moment he emerged, Vickers recognised that the gate room on Inimicus was never meant to come under assault. There were no barricades, no emplaced weapons, and the Exodites working throughout the room were technical crew, not soldiers.
But that didn’t get them a free pass, anyone who made the monster, was no better than the monster. Even if you just maintained the facility they spawned from, you still had to know what you were a part of – you still wore responsibility for what the creatures had done.
Vickers dropped his crosshairs over the first group of Exodites he saw. They were running for the door, cowards without beasts to hide behind, and when he pulled the trigger for his antipersonnel machinegun he felt only satisfaction. Bullets rushed out from under his arcom’s left wrist, and the Exodites jerked and fell like a macabre dance troupe.
The room was secured too quickly to satiate him. No sooner had he gunned down that first group than his counterparts were calling it clear, but there was still a control room overlooking the gate and he could see the Exodites inside panicking. They triggered an alarm and he hovered his reticule over them, but managed to stay off the trigger. If he damaged the gate’s operating equipment they’d be stuck here forever, fine for him but not so for Barnes in the machine next to him. Barnes who’d been foolish enough to leave a family behind and come out to this nightmare.
There would be plenty more Exodites.
While Vickers delayed, Felton’s marines stormed the room. The Exodites surrendered with barely a fight, and Vickers turned away in disgust as they were accepted as prisoners.
There were only two other exits to the gate room, and neither looked promising. One was a squat, fat tunnel leading out through the left wall, too short for his arcom to walk through. The other was a massive door as broad and tall as the gate, but sealed shut.
Rease was giving out instructions. “Felton, you’re with Predator-Two, on the tunnel. Predator-One, we’ve got the main gate.”
Vickers stacked up on the massive armoured door with the rest of Predator-One, and waited. The marines had lost their best electronic intrusion specialists on the gateship so Arcadia had sent an Electronic Warfare Officer from the ship’s CIC. She was the same EWO who’d seized control over the orbital gate systems remotely when Arcadia first arrived. The same one whose firewalls had kept the enemy out while the carrier regrouped for the current attack. Today she was taking up station in the gate control room; remotely suppressing enemy cameras, opening doors, disrupting enemy communications and of course dialling the gate home.
And now that he thought of it, Vickers didn’t even know her name.
Whoever she was, the present door proved no obstacle. It’s single massive panel hinged inward, and Rease’s platoon swept through. The corridor beyond was empty and wide enough for the arcoms to move three abreast. It stretched out less than thirty metres ending in another door much like the one they’d just come through. That door remained closed, and it was a good thing too because beyond lay ‘Mauler Storage’.
The simple title on Vickers’ map somehow failed to grasp the concourse and its six adjoining warehouses, each with more frozen monsters than the entire gateship. Even now the enemy would be thawing them out as fast as they could.
But the corridor had a third exit. Even knowing where it was, he couldn’t spot the secret door until it was opened. A wall panel, about half way along, simply receded at the electronic caress of their EWO. Disappointingly Exodite troops did not pour out, but at least that meant the enemy was still on the back foot. Beyond was a ramp which, according to the map, led to a catwalk running over the top of the concourse.
“Twos, this is our stop,” Rease said when they reached the ramp. “Vickers, Barnes, you know what to do?”
“Aye,” Barnes answered, “we hold this line.”
Much like ‘Mauler Storage’ the label failed to grasp the enormity of it. Two arcoms against whatever the enemy could force down this corridor? It should have been suicide and, if Rease and Twos didn’t get back quickly, it would be, but Vickers and Barnes had two key advantages.
The first was the classic Battle of Thermopylae scenario: as many Maulers as might be in the concourse only a handful could come through the door at one time. So long as you could forget the fact the Greeks were slaughtered to a man at Thermopylae, despite their topographical advantage, it was quite a comfort.
The second advantage, was that Rease had emptied out the arcom weapons vault on the Arcadia, reasoning that either the war would be over after this battle, or they’d all be dead. This meant instead of just rifles and pistols, the two arcoms would each be using a tripod-mounted 200mm repeating cannon, their scale equivalent of a heavy machinegun. They would have directional mines set all the way to the door, barricades to fire out from and a ready stockpile of ammunition.
Or at least, they would have as much of that as they and a dozen marines could setup before the Maulers came swarming through the door.
****
Richter had regularly praised Felton for his unit’s speed during boarding exercises. He had also, with equal regularity, chided him for picking the simplest approach to any circumstance. What made the whole thing impossibly frustrating, was that the Commander somehow failed to realise complex plans were never fast and fast plans had to be simple.
The tunnel connecting the gate room to the Little Facility was a very specific height. It was large enough for personnel, supplies and even some vehicles to pass through, but too short for a Mauler to crawl in and therefore too small for an arcom as well.
The simple, quick, answer to this problem was to have the marines lead the assault. Then all eight of Predator’s arcoms could focus on dealing with the Mauler threat. The enemy would have less time to consolidate their forces and, if the arcoms made it through Mauler Storage, the map said there were a number of more appropriately sized crossovers between the Little and Big facilities.
But instead, the quarterdeck had cooked up an unnecessarily elaborate plan. It happened that an arcom could fit through the tunnel because they didn’t have to crawl. Unlike a Mauler, an arcom could lie dead flat on a roller bed and be dragged by twenty exosuited marines. So, instead of disrupting the enemy, they were fatiguing themselves, expending suit batteries and leaving long wailing scratches on the steel ceiling.
Minutes dragged on but no counter attack materialised. The enemy was either poorly drilled, or planning a trap at the next junction.
“Predator Two-One, you’re through,” one of the marines announced, giving the machine a slap on the shoulder as he stepped away.
The corridors of the Little Facility beyond the tunnel were still a tight fit for an arcom, but Dryden’s machine was able to rise to a half standing position and give them the thumbs up. This presented a critical shift for Felton’s team. It might have taken twenty marines to pull one machine through the tunnel, but with a simple length of chain one arcom could drag another unaided. All they needed were a couple of people to ferry the dolly back each time.
“Alright marines, have some water, grab your kit and let’s move up!” Felton shouted and then tabbed his communicator. “Predator One-One, this is Stingray, we’re starting our advance.”
“Good timing, Stingray,” Rease’s voice came back. “The Exodites have just let the Maulers off the leash.”
****
As soon as the door to Mauler storage began to swing open, Vickers was on the trigger. The 200mm cannon began to spit out nearly ten rounds a second, ripping open everything that lurked in that widening gap. The curious grunts of the first Maulers turned immediately into howls of pain and rage that vied for dominance against the weapons thunderous report.
Vickers had come here to get back at the Exodites, but he had no problem killing Maulers. The Exodites might have been the ones calling the shots, but it was the Maulers who did the deeds. It was the Maulers who had killed half his company when the 10th arcom captured Box Grid, and it was the Maulers who’d wiped out the rest claiming it back two days later. Only he and Barnes, out of an entire twelve-strong company, had been able to hook up with Rease that day.
And here they were again, giving these beasts a chance to correct the oversight they’d made at Box Grid.
But he’d make them work for it.
Both arcoms were firing now, and the monsters trying to force their way through the door were falling like fruit in an earthquake. Every round had enough force to go through two or three of the beasts, and each sustained burst took down a half dozen or more. Pale leathery bodied fell one atop another, blood from their combined ruin pooled against the threshold until it began to trickle over.
Some of the Maulers fired back, taking brief openings before they were shredded and discarded by the arcom’s repeating cannons. Enemy rounds blasted chunks out of the defenders’ barricades or skipped off the walls to detonate somewhere behind them.
Inevitably, one creature broke through, scrambling desperately across the blood slicked bodies to dive through the doorway. The first directional mine detonated, filling the corridor with a brief wave of fire and jagged metal fragments. Vickers kept shooting across the threshold until he realised the Mauler was somehow still alive. Most of the shards had passed over its head, and though its paled skin was burnt away, it somehow had endured the overpressure. It’s one remaining eye bloody and hate-filled, as it dragged its rifle into its shaking grasp.
Vickers dropped his aim from the door and sent a burst in the direction of the struggling creature.
Except the weapon didn’t fire.
Perhaps it was a bad round, perhaps the cooling system hadn’t been able to keep up with the sustained firing. It didn’t matter, it was like a nightmare, the mine missed, his equipment failed and as he tried to out-react the Mauler, he felt like he was moving through tar.
And the Mauler wasn’t aiming at him, it was aiming at Barnes. Barnes with his stupid wife and stupid kids and stupid decision to try and protect them out here. He shouted a warning but it was useless, they were both so gunfire deafened he couldn’t even hear himself.
He let go of his weapon and shoved the other arcom as hard as he could. The Mauler rifle fired, the round snapping through the air between them as Barnes’s machine was knocked back against the wall.
And that should have been the end of it, but Barnes hadn’t released his grip on the repeating cannon, hadn’t taken his finger off the trigger. As he was thrown to the right, his aim was thrown left and ten rounds a second drew a line along the wall, and with dread certainty terminated on Vickers’ arcom.
He didn’t feel the cockpit rupture but he could see his blood on the consoles, on the joystick and the walls, and on far too many places. He didn’t look down, he didn’t want to know.
Instead his arcom unlimbered its pistol, its arms trembling like those of its pilot. He set the reticule on the one-eyed Mauler and pulled the trigger. The nightmare ended, the beast died.
Barnes was shouting out to him, desperate, apologetic and somehow more afraid than he’d been at the fall of Box Grid.
Vickers didn’t try to respond; his life was ebbing, and he had only one task still to complete. He switched the pistol to full auto, settled it on the doorway and started firing again.
It wasn’t for the killing and it wasn’t even for revenge. He had to buy time, just a few critical seconds for Barnes to get his act together, get back on that cannon and maybe, just maybe, get back to his stupid wife and his stupid kids.
****
“On your four o’clock, thirty metres out!” Twos called.
Rease stopped immediately and dropped her arcom into a crouch. Pivoting on one knee, she levelled the stand-off rifle at the Mauler Twos had indicated and fired. The weapon made barely any noise, or a
t least barely any noise for a 160mm cannon.
The round snapped the Mauler’s head back, and the creature fell to the concourse floor. Its passing was largely unnoticed as its brethren continued to press in on the door below. Those few that did notice were oblivious to the concept of snipers, and after a moment of confusion, they re-joined those charging into the kill zone maintained by Vickers and Barnes. Rease moved on.
She and Twos were on a catwalk high above the concourse. It was theoretically a safe passageway and observation point for the base staff, but Rease didn’t imagine it was ever used while the floor below was full of angry Maulers. Too much movement in their peripheral vision, or too loud a noise, and you’d attract attention. Sometimes you didn’t even have to mess up, as intent as they were on the doorway, even Maulers would sometimes glance up.
And it only took one. As soon as a Mauler let out its war cry, all its buddies would follow its gaze and then you’d be just standing on an exposed walkway, waiting to see which bullet you’d catch first.
So the going had been slow. Rease was creeping her way across, while Twos spotted for her from back in the doorway. If either noticed a Mauler looking up, they had to respond fluidly and precisely. They’d only recovered one stand-off rifle from Box Grid, which meant Twos couldn’t risk a shot.
Their strategy was working though. Rease finally reached the centre of the room without having to bring down any more Maulers. She gestured for Twos to join her and settled in to cover him.
The Exodites may have held no qualms about unleashing their monsters on everyone else, but they clearly had real concerns about them getting loose in the base. Sitting directly above the concourse was a valve, a designed fail point in the normally thick pressure wall. If things got out of hand, the defenders could flood the entire warehouse area, then pump the water back out and start over.
Threshold of Victory Page 38
