by M. R. Forbes
Ten-thousand soldiers, if they could get them out. They had loaded the shuttle with equipment, but that wasn’t even enough for this single enclosure.
“This is Surface One,” he said. “We’re ready to drop. Good luck up there.” He dropped from the wide channel to the platoon link. “Let’s go, Rejects!”
Then he jumped, knowing the others had gone out behind him.
The TCU was showing a dozen tangos nearby, with more coming from the main compound a couple of klicks away. The cloaking maneuver had gotten them pretty close to the surface unseen and had bought them time they needed to have a chance. Even so, he could hear the whine of Shrikes coming down toward them, and he could almost feel the slugs whipping past as he dropped from the shuttle.
He rolled on the ground, clenching his jaw and hoping the mount held up to the abuse. He had tested it on the Brimstone, but that wasn’t the real thing. He got to his feet, finding the first target and squeezing the triggers. He felt the pressure against his shoulders as the twin rifles began spewing flechettes, satisfied to see them hit one of the soldiers near the cordon.
“Watch our for friendlies,” he said, almost in retrospect. He had been lucky the bullets hadn’t missed and gone into the midst of the prisoners. Woops.
“You say that now,” Benhil said. He was standing beside Gant, running away from him to duck behind the edge of a smaller building.
The shuttle was rotating, turning in the direction of the reinforcements from the main compound. A Shrike passed overhead, firing down on the top of it. The shields caught some of the attack. The armor caught some more. A few rounds made it into something important, and the shuttle began to whine louder.
“Damn,” Erlan said. “I’m losing thrust pressure. Looks like a one-way ride. The good news is, I found an extra switch here. Check this shit out.”
“Is it just me, or does Nerd cursing just not work?” Pik said.
A half-dozen plates on the shuttle slid aside, a half-dozen electromagnetic guns dropping into position.
“I wouldn’t tell him that right now,” Benhil said.
“No,” Pik agreed. “Maybe later.”
The EMGs opened fire, the soft sonic booms echoing as the slugs crossed the distance and tore into the oncoming soldiers, reducing the line to nothing in seconds.
“Hell, yeah,” Benhil said.
“Guards,” Gant reminded him, using the shuttle’s offensive distraction to take down another one. “Okay, I’ve got you covered.”
“Roger. It’s fragging time!”
“It’s fragging time?” Benhil said. “I don’t think you mean that the way it sounds.”
Pik reached the first guard, punching him so hard with the augmented fist that he flew back and into the cordon, shredded by the lasers as he passed through. The prisoners cheered at the sight, shifting position, spreading out to give the Rejects space. Pik turned on another guard, crushing his rifle in his new hand before the guard could shoot him, and then punching him in the helmet and knocking him down.
“They’re opening up a field of fire,” Qa said, shooting at the guards. The other mercenaries joined him, laying down a line of covering fire.
Pik ran from the downed enemy soldiers toward the guardhouse, a few rounds striking his battlesuit and sparking off. He barrelled into it, grabbing the guard inside and throwing him out into the open, where Richu picked him off.
“Incoming,” Erlan shouted. The two EMGs on top of the shuttle began rotating and firing at the Shrikes as they dove toward the group. They evaded the potential attack, breaking the strafing run and circling back.
“Gant, I don’t know how to work this thing,” Pik said.
Gant began bouncing across the field toward the guardhouse. The Rejects were keeping the remaining guards pinned down, and the shuttle was holding back the reinforcements. So far, so good. He made it into the guardhouse, to the active terminal.
“Okay, there’s a button right here to shut down the power to the cordon.” He pointed at it.
“Oh,” Pik replied. “I didn’t see it.”
“Nerd, get your ass to the rear and prepare to unload the goods,” Gant said.
“Roger.”
Gant hit the control to turn off power to the cordon. “Go direct traffic outside. Get the prisoners armed. Jester, see if we have anybody here who knows how to fly a starship or fifty.”
“Roger,” Benhil replied.
“Incoming,” Erlan warned again.
The Shrikes made it over this time, firing into the midst of the prisoners. Painful cries went up as nearly one hundred of them dropped.
“Frag,” Gant said. “Come on.”
They emerged from the guardhouse with Pik bellowing. “Weapons this way. Come and get it.”
A mass of prisoners rushed to the shuttle. Erlan was there, shoving the crates out of the rear and onto the ground. The prisoners tore at them, ripping them open and grabbing what they needed.
“Starship crews,” Benhil shouted, making his way to them. “I need starship crews.”
“I’m a navigator,” one of the prisoners said.
“I’m an engineer,” another said.
“Get your guns and free the others,” Pik shouted. “Watch out for Shrikes. Welcome to the Rejects. Hoo-raahhhh!”
“Send starship crew back this way,” Benhil added. “The only way we all survive is to get some of these ships into orbit.”
“Jester, keep this group organized,” Gant said. “Okay, you’re with me.”
“Where are we going?” Pik asked.
Gant pointed to the main compound. “There. We need to identify the space-worthy ships and paint the rest for the Brimstone.”
They both looked up at the same time. The Brimstone was floating high above them, visible against the backdrop of the purplish atmosphere. The shields were active all around it, deflecting carefully aimed lasers from the batteries on the ground and the Nephilim ships above.
“We need to take out those positions, too,” Gant said. He opened the wide channel again. “Dak, we’ve started freeing prisoners. What’s your status?”
“Shields at forty percent. Taking heavy fire. Hitting as many of the weaker targets as we can.”
“Give me three minutes and I’ll have some ground targets for you, but you need to start attacking the fixed positions.”
“Roger. We’re going to die, you know?”
“Yes,” Gant agreed. “But we’re going to have a damn good time doing it.”
41
Gant and Pik raced for the main compound, bouncing across the landscape toward the main facility, a hardened structure partially hidden by the growth of trees surrounding the massive, open field of starships.
“Shield generators,” Pik said, pointing out a pair of bulbs on either side of the building and a third in front of it. There was bound to be a matching one in the back, as well as another on top of the structure, able to create a web of energy to protect it in the case of bombardment.
The shields were down. The EMGs on the shuttle had turned the forward generator into a twisted mess of metal and wiring, just as it had turned the incoming soldiers into twisted flesh. The Nephilim had tried to get reinforcements out to the slave pens. They never had a chance to turn the defensive system on.
They bounced over the dead, moving at full speed, desperate to reach the building. The prisoners were working on freeing themselves, and while the enemy was being careful with their attacks on the Brimstone, the ship wouldn’t survive forever, not once Thraven’s forces saw how they were using it as a shield of their own.
They were a dozen meters from the front of the facility when a squad of soldiers emerged from the entrance, dressed in black battlesuits and heavily armed with a pair of portable rail cannons.
“We can’t let them get those running,” Gant said, seeing the weapons.
“On it,” Pik replied. “Watch this. It’s fragging time!”
He laughed as he bent his knees and bounced, the muscu
lature in his suit sending him hurtling toward the enemy. They scrambled to defend against him, two of them knocked back as he crashed against them, slamming his edged fingers into one and getting a massive hand around the helmet of the other, holding him back against the wall. He dislodged the blades, turning and swinging the soldier like a club, hitting another with the first.
Gant began shooting, the mount digging into his shoulders while the bullets pinged against the soldiers’ body armor. They ignored him, setting the cannon down on a tripod that extended from the bottom of it, quickly leaning down and bolting it in.
“Uh, Okay?” Gant said, bouncing high into the air as the cannon began to scream, the bullets moving past where he had been at such high velocity he never saw them. Further back near the transport, prisoners began to fall, hit by the wayward slugs.
“Got it,” Pik said, moving in behind the soldiers. His metal fist punished one of them, blasting right through the helmet and smashing their face. A grab and a twist crushed the weaker neck protection of the other, along with his neck and spine. “Clear.”
Gant landed smoothly. “Help me with this thing,” he said, motioning to his shoulder mount.
“You don’t want it anymore?”
“Ammo’s getting low, and it’s bulky.”
Pik lifted it from his shoulders as he released the magnetic clamps.
“That feels so much better,” Gant said, stretching his arms.
“How are you going to fight?” Pik asked.
Gant retrieved a combat knife from his thigh. “Not that I’ll need it. I’ve got you. Your skill is killing things, right?”
Pik grumbled in laughter.
They moved to the entrance, heading inside. The corridor was clear, and they ran through it.
“We’re looking for a control room,” Gant said. “Some place with a terminal or three. It’s probably up higher, where they can see the work on the ships.”
“Top floor looked like it had a big window,” Pik said.
“Let’s find-” Gant threw himself down as a pair of soldiers came around the corner and started shooting. His lightsuit was no match for their rounds.
Pik roared and charged grabbing them and smashing them against the walls, dismayed when they got back up. Their movements changed, becoming jerky and stiff. Converts. Gant stood and rushed forward, leaping to the shoulders of one and digging his knife into its throat. It took a bit of force, but he managed to slip around behind it and pull it through. The big Trover didn’t have the same problem, grabbing the other one tight and ripping its head off with his hands.
“Gross,” Gant said at the scene. “I’m going to have nightmares about that.”
“It’s us or them,” Pik replied.
“Jester, how are we doing out there?” Gant asked.
“Three groups are free. We’re out of guns, but they have overwhelming numbers. If we could get rid of the fragging Shrikes, we’d be holding out a lot better.”
“What about starship crews?”
“I’ve got four with me taking cover on the shuttle. We’re waiting for directions.”
“I’m going as fast as I can. Brimstone, what’s the status on the orbital defenses?”
“Most of the standard ships are taken care of,” Dak said. “The augmented ships are a problem. We have nothing left to take them out.”
“Devils, are you still out there?” Gant asked.
“Affirmative,” Phlenel replied. “My ammunition is running low, but I do have two missiles remaining.”
“So do I,” Ruby said.
“Dak, can you coordinate an attack and try to take out one of the ships?”
“Aye, Boss,” Dak said. “I’ll do my best.”
Gant checked his HUD, doing a quick calculation in his head. “Kett should be here within the next few minutes. Be ready to give him directions. We need to consolidate our firepower on those upgraded ships, in the weak spot on their ass.”
“Roger,” Dak said.
“Are we winning?” Erlan asked.
“We’re faking it pretty well,” Gant replied. “Standby.”
42
Gant turned to Pik and pointed to a tube. “There.”
They entered the tube together. Pik was so large and bulky in the battlesuit that Gant was left standing beneath him, between his legs, his head nearly up to the Trover’s groin.
“Queenie never hears about this,” he said.
“I can’t wait to tell her,” Pik replied.
They took the tube to the top floor, spilling out into it ready for a fight. They had found the control room like they were hoping. All of the technicians operating it were dead on the floor or slumped over in their seats. There was no sign of damage to any of them. A floor to ceiling transparency gave them a clear view of the starships arranged in the field ahead, so many that they vanished into the hazy distance.
Gant could also see the slave pens from here, and the fighting still raging around them. There must have been units already deployed to a few of the ships, both soldiers and mechs, and they had left them to join the battle. He changed his mind about his comment to Erlan. It was hard to pretend they were winning when it was such a mess out there.
“What the frag happened here?” Pik said.
Gant didn’t have a chance to reply. Pik was thrown backward beside him, slammed into the wall. He bounced away by instinct, vanishing behind one of the terminals. One of them. Damn it.
“Ouch,” Pik said. “You assholes think this is funny, don’t you?” He was pinned against the wall again, just like on Feru.
“Necessary,” the Evolent replied, appearing from the shadows in the corner of the room. “You’re a little stronger than me, otherwise.” He was short and stocky and too young to be as powerful as he was. “I like the hand,” he said, motioning at Pik’s replacement appendage.
“Thanks. Come a little closer; I’ll show it to you.”
“I saw you have a Gant. Where is it?”
“Have? It?” Gant grumbled under his breath. Then he started moving along the side of the room, slipping silently around the terminals and control stations toward the Evolent. Little fragger.
“I don’t know. I’ve got something else you can have.” Pik laughed. “It’s down there. I’d take it out for you, but-”
Pik stopped talking as the armor around his neck constricted inward, cutting off his breath.
“That’s better,” the Evolent said. “Gloritant Thraven said you might be coming. I wanted to go out to the field to meet you, but he said to stay behind, so you might think you’re winning.”
“Do you always talk this much?” Gant asked from behind one of the stations.
The Evolent turned, moving his hands, tearing the stations away from the ground, ripping out wires and cables as he did. Gant moved with them, remaining hidden.
“Do you know what’s funny?” the Evolent asked. “It doesn’t matter if you did win here. The plans for the ships have already been sent back to the others. All we need to do is collect more bodies, and we can rebuild the fleet.”
Gant shook his head. Of course Thraven transmitted the schematics. He would have been an idiot not to. One thing at a time.
“Do you know what I think is funny?” Gant asked.
He moved out into the room, right behind the Evolent. Thraven’s man spun around, putting out his hand. Gant felt the tickle on his skin, but nothing else happened. The Evolent was suddenly afraid.
“Gants are immune to magic when they’re angry,” Gant said. “And I’m very, very angry.”
He bounced forward, springing up at the Evolent, who had no idea how to fight without the Gift. He sank his knife into an eye, riding the man down as he fell backward.
Pik was released, and he reached up and grabbed at his helmet, tearing it off and throwing it aside, getting a metal finger below the neck armor and wrenching it away. He took in a few massive breaths.
“Frag. He almost killed me.” He walked over to the downed Evolent and
kicked him in the side, sending him across the room and into the wall.
“Just kill him,” Gant said.
“He almost killed me,” Pik said again.
“Okay, we don’t have time for revenge. Just kill him.”
“Fine.” He bent over the Evolent, turning his back to Gant and removing the man’s head.
Gant hurried to one of the terminals, pushing the body slumped over it from its seat. It took him a minute, but he found status reports for each of the ships on the ground.
“Jester,” he said. “Three crews?”
“Roger. Four, now,” Benhil said. “But we’re taking heavy casualties down here.”
“I’m lighting up the targets now,” he said. “They’re going to be tough to see from down there, but do your best.”
Gant put his hands together, mimicking a human hand as he navigated to the external controls for each of the ships. They were wired to the main center so that they didn’t need individual crews to run diagnostics and standard prechecks like life support and lighting. He turned all of the lights on for each of the four ships that reportedly hadn’t been prepped for reconfiguration.
“I think I see one,” Benhil said. “Crew one is on its way. Nerd is going with them.”
“Roger,” Gant said. “Brimstone, sitrep?”
“Shields are at fifteen percent,” Dak said. “The Devils are engaging the Nephilim warship. Keep your fingers crossed.”
“Physically impossible,” Gant replied. “Use your scanners to pick out the dark ships on the ground, the ones furthest from the fighting. Start blasting them.”
“You know once I do, the gloves are going to come off, right?”
“The gloves are already off. We came here to do some damage, not stay alive.”
“Roger. Iann, get me some targets and align half our batteries. We’re going down fighting.”
“Aye, Commander,” Iann replied.
“Commander,” a new voice said. “We’ve got new targets on scanners. Six ships, four identified as Republic battlecruisers, and two unidentified. We’re being hailed, sir.”
