Runs In The Family
Page 34
Conners nodded. “Right away, ma’am.”
Mairin unplugged the helmet and felt the cool morning Libretto air on her face. She dismounted the tank and attached her shoulder holster and map case by regimental policy before walking into the perimeter. The platoon leader shrugged from the top of his tank as Mairin walked past and into the circle formation. Immediately the screaming stopped, and she stood facing Coffey about ten feet away. “Sir, are you lost?”
Coffey sneered. “Give me your vehicle, Shields.”
“Sir, I asked you a question. Are you lost? Do you need assistance back to your unit? The regiment is being—”
“I don’t give a fuck about my regiment! Give me your vehicle, Captain! That’s a direct order!”
Mairin took a breath. “Sir, I believe you are injured. I have requested immediate medical retrieval. I will not comply with your order on the grounds that I find your condition questionable and your order to be unlawful at the present time, sir.”
Coffey stomped forward to cover her face with his whiskey-singed breath. “Now see here, Captain. You are an insubordinate, Styrahi-loving bitch! I want your vehicle! You’re not going to keep me from going after that Stryahi terrorist that destroyed whatever that was back there! You understand me?”
Styrahi terrorist? “You saw someone, sir?”
“Black dress, dark hair. Had to be a fucking Styrahi. She’s headed that way.” He gestured to the northwest.
Mairin’s mind flashed and the world tilted a little. “I’m sure that’s not the case—” She rocked backward from a blow she hadn’t seen and felt the wet fern leaves tickling her face. Her jaw throbbed.
“Treason, you bitch! You’re covering for some terrorist!” Coffey loomed over her. “Now give me your vehicle!”
Mairin stood slowly and gave herself some space from Coffey. “No.”
“I told you, I’m chasing a terrorist.”
Mairin nodded. “Why are you not in command of your regiment twelve kilometers from here?”
Coffey blustered. “My regiment is not your concern!”
“Sir, did you desert your regiment?”
“My tank got shot out from under me. I came this way and discovered this terrorist. I’m going to gut her abomination of a body in the ground and put her head on a pike! You’re not going to stop me!”
The wet smear down the leg of his combat suit said differently. Mairin unholstered her sidearm and leveled it at Coffey. “Sir, you’re under arrest for desertion and cowardice in the face of the enemy. Place your hands behind your back and prepare to be subdued. Sergeant Mason!”
A deep voice from one of the Slammers boomed. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Bring a kit and subdue the regimental commander.”
“Moving, ma’am.” The enormous man gracefully bounded down from a tank and closed the distance.
Coffey sneered. “You think you can stop me, Shields? You really think you can hold a gun on me? When I tell command that you let a fucking terrorist that I was trying to capture go free, you’ll be drummed out of the TDF faster than shit through a goose! Not me.” He laughed like a hyena. “I’m gonna be the hero, just like before. There’s nothing you or your unit can do. So what if I ran from an unwinnable fight? They’ll make me a general because I had the presence of mind to take care of myself! To get out alive! That’s more than you can say! And now you’re the one holding the bag full of shit, Shields. You stopped me and gave me this bullshit arrest in the middle of a pursuit! What can you say about that?”
Mairin squinted. “You’re a deserter, sir.”
“Fuck you, Shields! There ain’t a damned thing you can do about it!” Coffey laughed and raised his sidearm.
Mairin squeezed the trigger on her forty-caliber pistol three quick times in succession and holstered the weapon even before Coffey fell completely to the ground, mouth slack and eyes staring uncomprehendingly into the forest canopy. Mairin looked up at Lieutenant Thornton. “You heard what he said, right?”
“Every word, ma’am.”
Mairin looked up into the collected faces of the tank commanders and loaders who were watching. “Anybody have anything to say?”
There was no response. Thornton cleared his throat. “Ma’am, the Grey counterattack is accelerating. They’ll reach the north shore of the lake in about six minutes.”
Mairin nodded and looked a last time at Coffey’s pale face. “We’re going to give those bastards the fight they should have had from him. Mount up.” She stomped through the brush back to her Slammer and climbed aboard. “Interface, recall the troop to this location. Assault Plan Bravo. Prepare to attack.”
She chinned over to the command frequency. “Looking Glass, this is Saber Six, did you copy my query transmission, over?”
Garrett’s voice came over the substantially better signal. “Roger, all. You really think that’s the target?”
“Yes, sir.” Mairin looked at the icons of the advancing Grey column. “We’ve got a massive attack about to bear down on this location, sir. If it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck....”
“Roger,” Garrett chuckled. “I’m committing all squadron assets to you.”
“Thank you, sir.” Mairin swallowed. “Sir, I called a retrieval down for the regimental commander.”
“I heard that.”
“It won’t be needed, sir.”
“Why not?” Garrett asked.
“Sir, Colonel Coffey is dead. He admitted to cowardice in combat and then tried to shoot me. I shot him, sir.”
“Okay, stop.” Garrett said. “Say nothing more about this until retrieval. You understand me? I can’t afford to relieve you in the middle of a battle, Shields.”
“But, sir, I said that he tried to—”
“And you shot him. Until this is reviewed by legal you are not to discuss it. Now lead your troop, Captain Shields. We’ll discuss the rest of it when the time comes.”
“Understand, sir,” Mairin choked. Didn’t I do the right thing?
Have faith, Mairin.
She nodded and looked in the direction of the cabin. It’s Tally. Her heart leapt. None of this shit would matter if she could have Tallenaara again. Chinning the command frequency, she ordered, “Guidons, this is Six. Move out. Good hunting. If we make it all the way across that lake, take up positions in the hills above those buildings.”
As the Slammers broke through the woodline and crossed the thin ribbon of shore to the lake, Mairin reached into her leg pocket and brought the cold metal bottle out. With great ceremony she unscrewed the lid of the bottle and dumped the canteen’s contents into the lake. She looked across and saw Ulson standing in his cupola doing the same.
If I die here, I die happy, she thought as Ulson chimed into the command frequency.
“Guidons, Black Five. Sound the charge!”
Mairin wasn’t listening. Across the lake, she saw a black clothed figure running down the shore towards the cabin. From two thousand meters or more and at the limits of her enhanced eyesight, Mairin knew it was Tally. The stride was hers. They’d run along that beach for hours. Mairin commanded Booker to the far right flank of the assault. She opened the faceplate of her helmet and screamed.
“Tally” And again. And again, but the figure on the beach ran harder towards the cabin.
<
Mairin chinned the command frequency. “Looking Glass, I’m committing forces now. Give me everything that you can. Kill everything that moves!” The Slammer reared up on its repulsors. Mairin swept her tanks from the trees and directed the volume of fire into the broadside of the Grey attack.
* * * * *
Sixty-Two
Sergeant Major Jack Tre
vayne focused on the assaulting Grey tanks and walked thousands upon thousands of machine gun rounds into the swarming black vehicles below his position on the ridgeline. He felt an impact on his shoulder but continued firing. Center mass of target, squeeze. Center mass of target, squeeze. Traverse to the right. Over and over again, Trevayne squeezed off bursts until the gun was out of ammunition. Reloading meant dropping into the turret for another case. He reared up through the cupola with a new box and saw his commo specialist, Specialist Dossett, staring off the back deck.
“Dossett!” Trevayne called and then looked where the loader was looking. The force to the front of their position appeared positively tiny compared to the boiling column of Grey vehicles descending the ridgelines and crossing the shore of the lake below in his general direction. To his right, Trevayne saw a company-sized element of Slammers burst from the trees in counterattack. There’s too many Greys, Shields! What are you doing?
A slowly rising column of black smoke caught his eye, and Trevayne knew they were holding the wrong ground. “All Bullet elements, this is Bullet Nine. Prepare to move. We’re backing down off this ridgeline. There’s a counterattack coming from the north. We’re going to give up this position for one that can put fire on those bastards.” Trevayne sketched a quick graph on the console and sent it to the regiment. “You’ve got it. Move out!”
Trevayne chinned over to the command frequency from the Ticonderoga. “Looking Glass, this is Bullet Nine. I’m in command of the regiment at this time. We’re moving to secure a position in support of Saber Six. Drop every orbital gun platform you can on my position in about sixty seconds. Acknowledge?”
A static-filled transmission met his ears. “Roger, Bullet Nine. Copy all. Good luck.”
Trevayne backed his Intimidator down from the ridgeline and swung to the center of the line as his vehicles dropped quickly towards the lake and pivoted towards the smoking target. Whatever it is, it’s important. A tank round passed close enough that he could see it. “Contact left! Match bearings and return fire!” he roared into the regimental channel.
A massive shockwave broke over Trevayne from behind. Orbital gunfire began to fall on the top of the ridgeline and the destroyed remnants of the regiment. Trevayne saw a flash in the sky as fighters converged over the lake and began to engage the Greys.
God help us, Trevayne thought as he felt his own tank begin to return fire on the advancing Greys. Help us die well.
* * * * *
Sixty-Three
Richards dropped his Hurricane out of the clouds and saw the unfolding battle clearly. The Greys were attacking something smoking in the forest. The cavalry was counterattacking from the east into the broadside of the Greys while the tank regiment who’d been holding the high ground gave up their position to defend whatever was smoking. What in the hell do they expect us to do? he thought even as his plan formed.
“Lancers, engage all targets of opportunity. Coordinate attacks with follow-on squadrons.” Richards looked across his shoulder at his wingman, or would it be wingwoman? Bah! “Boyd, you’re taking charge of the inbounds. Three squadrons are inbound now. Stay up here and coordinate attack runs. Hit the Greys center mass and keep right on hitting! Are we clear?”
“Roger, all. Good hunting, sir.” Boyd replied.
How can someone so competent sound so unfazed by all of this? Richards swung the Hurricane in a descending turn and saw that all of his Hurricanes, except for Boyd’s, followed him. “Combat spread,” he called over the radio. Immediately the four remaining fighters spread out to about two hundred meters apart and opened their weapons bays. “Time to targets is ten seconds. Do me proud, lads.”
“Looking Glass, this is Lancer One. Confirm no atmospheric air-to-air?”
In the static Richards clearly heard Garrett reply. “Negative in this area, Lancer One. SITREP?”
Richards chuckled. “Now’s not the time.” He grunted and dropped a salvo of armor piercing bomblets into the Grey advance. “Will coordinate a full SITREP when it’s over.”
He cycled another salvo and dropped it before flashing over what appeared to be the tail of the Grey column. Bringing the nose up, Richards looked over his shoulder in the loop. Blossoming explosions filled his view. He could see more than a dozen exocraft and interceptors rallying on the Grey attack with everything in the inventory.
The cavalry vehicles were about to reach the north side of the lake. Without air support, they’d be overwhelmed. “Lancers, Lancer One! On me!” A wide swath of Greys broke off from the main column and moved east down a deserted autocar path on a perfect intercept for the cavalry. “On me, lads!”
They might just make it. “Looking Glass, Lancer One. Got a bit of a situation you might say. I’m breaking away to get some Greys trying to flank the cavalry. We’re going to need more support.”
* * * * *
Sixty-Four
The urge to hit something inanimate overwhelmed Garrett enough that he nearly lost both his bearing and composure. Radio transmissions were static-filled bursts of partial information barely relaying an accurate picture of the ground. The Ticonderoga herself was too far away and moving farther in her static orbit. Three different types of forces and however many types of combat vehicles were trying to coordinate a complicated fight on a very dynamic battlefield, and there was nothing Garrett could do about it.
“Communications are boosted, sir. We cannot take any more bandwidth from the Canberra without failing their systems,” Porterman said. “Sir, without a direct lock on laser communications, we’re going to lose their signal in less than six minutes. We can expect the loss of signal to last at least ten minutes based on our position.”
Garrett walked over to Nather. “Sir, I’ve got to have more bandwidth.”
“You know I can’t give it to you, Don.” Nather grunted and turned to a Terran Defense Force colonel that hadn’t been on the bridge during the initial engagement with the Jack. “You have any assets, Colonel?”
The colonel looked at Nather and then at Garrett. “My name is Munsen, Captain Garrett. I’d suggest a simple approach. Take a multi-band communications node and provide an airborne command and control platform.”
Munsen? Why is that familiar? Garrett shook his head. “Our multi-bands are either already deployed to the surface or were destroyed when the Greys targeted the communications decks. We don’t have one aboard.”
Munsen smiled. “Good thing I happened to bring one aboard on my shuttle. By your leave, Admiral?”
“Of course, Thom.” Nather looked at Garrett for a long moment and extended a hand. “Good luck, Don.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Nather turned his attention to the horizon of Libretto as they neared the midpoint of their trek across the planet’s nightside. “We’ll see you on the other side.”
Garrett ordered his officers to the flight deck and broke into a jog behind Munsen. “So, just who are you, and when did you get aboard this platform?”
Munsen slowed slightly allowing Garrett to join up on his shoulder. “I just came back from briefing the Prelate. I was in the city until about three minutes after the Greys landed. I was on the ground during the initial attack and sat out for a couple of days in the bowels of Libretto City waiting for the TDF to come in and get me. That obviously never happened.”
Garrett noted the man looked more than a few years older than himself, but given his impressive physical conditioning and the fact he’d not even started breathing hard in spite of the pace they ran to the flight deck, the answer was obvious. And then it hit Garrett between the eyes. “You’re the officer from imprinting. You were a general, weren’t you?”
“Long story,” Munsen replied. “About time you remembered me, Garrett.”
This wasn’t the man who’d interviewed Garrett for the process, but he’d been there in the background. Watching. Observing. Learning. “You take over the program from Evan Richards?”
“Years ago. There are more than two hundred
active imprints now. And at least one down on the surface that’s special enough to merit my trying to save her ass.”
They entered the flight deck and Garrett saw the Spectre-class shuttle sitting undamaged in the midst of the chaotic deck. “Nice ride,” Garrett said. “You’re talking about Mairin Shields, right?”
Munsen nodded and slowed to a fast walk. “She’s a Class Five imprint, Garrett. She can literally remember things her imprint did, not just instincts and flashes of feelings. This is a whole new ballgame. She’s worth protecting.”
“There’s something more you aren’t telling me.”
Munsen glanced his way. “You have no idea how important she is, Garrett.”
“Then you’re not going to like this.” Garrett stopped Munsen with a hand on his arm. “She reported to me that she shot and killed Colonel Coffey for cowardice in the face of the enemy.”
“What?”
“She said he confessed to it and that she has witnesses—”
Munsen’s face contorted. “That’s not the best news you could give me.”
“You need to know.”
“Yeah I do.” Munsen shrugged and began to climb aboard the shuttle. “Get aboard, Garrett. Let’s see if we can make a difference in this fight.”
Garrett whistled. The beautiful shuttle was unlike anything in the Fleet. “Where did you get this?”
“I stole it,” Munsen grunted. “Come on.”
“We’re not gonna make it in time.”
Munsen just smiled as they strapped into their seats and the engines began to spool. Garrett was quite sure he’d never heard anything like them, and as he thought about it, the shuttle glided effortlessly from the flight deck and into space. A split second later, Garrett was sure they’d exploded as acceleration pushed him into the cushioned seat. When he realized the truth, Garrett smiled and watched the planet turning quickly underneath them with the daylight terminator approaching.
“Still think we don’t have enough time?”