The Spreading Fire
Page 19
She passed the command to the other fighters in the wing, and successive scans showed a steady line of drones carrying out cube-shaped objects on the same path as the raw materials coming in.
Fugia said.
The tunnel outline in the holotank continued to rise and swoop as Card navigated its turns. When the display went blank for a second, Fugia’s heart dropped, afraid they had lost her.
Then the ribbed surface of a wall came into view, followed by several gantries leading across the scene. In thirty seconds, Card had traversed the open space and completed a scan, allowing Fugia to pull the display back.
They had entered a huge space in what appeared to be the center of the station. The chamber was filled with drones manufacturing the cores that the crew of the Sun Runner had seen being carried out.
In the holotank, a line of massive drone fighters came into view, separating from the chamber wall. Each was armed with quad cannons on either side of its body.
Fugia shifted the display to show each combatant as the Weapon Born wing shifted into attack formation.
“This isn’t good,” she muttered.
“Oh shit,” Petral said as proximity alarms went off around them. “We’ve got inbound.”
“How didn’t we see them?”
Petral counted inbound ships, stopping at twenty, then slapped her console. “They were hiding against the sun. Our sensors didn’t pick them up until they started moving. We’ve got a fleet dropping on us.”
ROUGH ENTRY
STELLAR DATE: 09.03.3011 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Shuttle approaching Hilgram Station
REGION: Hildas Asteroids, OuterSol
The shuttle dropped and bucked, slamming Cara and Rondo against their seats. Adama yowled and dug his claws into Rondo’s side.
Cara fought the controls, doing her best to right their trajectory after she’d been forced into a full burn to shoot beneath the attack range of a series of point defense cannons she hadn’t seen on their approach. Their active scan was disrupted by massive amounts of RF energy coming off Hilgram, blinding the shuttle’s nav systems to everything but local mass signatures. She had coordinates for the Amplified Solution, the MSS Insurmountable, and Hilgram, but nothing on docking options.
“We’re screwed,” Cara said. “I can’t do anything but get close and try to pick up the port protocol beacon. And we’ll be crushed before I can do that.”
“Hold on,” Rondo said. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
The port beacon was a local final guidance system that verified a shuttle had docking priority.
“I’ve got it,” Rondo said. “I’m boosting the signal to your nav console. You can follow it in.”
“You’re a handy guy, you know that?”
Rondo gave her an awkward smile.
“Received,” Cara said. “Sending final docking handshake. Are we going to get approval?”
“They were running an ancient control firmware. I cracked the approval queue. We’re good.”
“We’d better be.”
The shuttle’s path smoothed until Cara had some confidence in their approach vector. She turned the docking procedure over to the NSAI and leaned back in her seat, releasing a long breath.
Reaching Hilgram was just the first part of the mission. She had no idea what to expect once they docked.
“Why hasn’t their port authority tried to contact us?” Cara asked.
“It looks like they’re in a state of lockdown. After I took out the Marsian coursers, all the inbound traffic pulled off. They don’t know what’s happening, so I’d imagine they’re trying to make a plan.”
“And in we come in the middle of all that,” Cara said.
“I think we should play the Stars the Hard Way angle,” Rondo said. “They don’t know anything about Osla. All they know is that you helped them on Luna. They think you started their uprising.”
“Don’t remind me.”
Rondo shrugged. “That’s what the streams are saying. After Ngoba’s stunt backfired, they think Osla is playing every side of SolGov against themselves. That leaves plenty of room for you to be a celebrity. They want you to be a celebrity.”
“You really think that’s going to work? I want a real plan. What can we do to crack their remote weapons systems?”
“I’m scanning now. I’ve found a few control systems that are at least a hundred years old. I’ll find a way in once we’re on the station. Crash is scanning, as well. He’ll let me know what vulnerabilities he finds.”
“Give me a landing point, and you can do all the local searching you want.”
There were several docking options on the outer portions of the station. Cara wanted something near the center, where they would find the Andersonian leadership. For a few minutes, it had appeared that the station was preoccupied with the attacking Marsians onboard. Then their local defenses had locked on the shuttle.
“I say we let them know who you are. They’ll drop the attack.”
Cara ground her teeth. The shuttle wasn’t built for the type of evasive maneuvers they were running. The approach was going to turn into suicide in just a few minutes.
“Fine,” she said. “Open a channel. Audio, though. I don’t want to have to smile at anybody.”
WELCOME TO HILGRAM
STELLAR DATE: 09.03.3011 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Hilgram Station
REGION: Hildas Asteroids, OuterSol
Cara had a moment of déjà vu as the airlock cycled open to show a new delegation of people waiting for them. Where Commander Kaffic had been standing on the MSS Insurmountable, a short man with brown hair and heavy eyebrows nodded quickly, smiling. He rubbed his hands together as he greeted her.
“Captain Sykes, this is so unexpected, but so welcome. You’re here to save us in our hour of need. I’m Harvey Allister. For want of a title, I suppose you could call me Station Administrator. I’ve been here since we first found Hilgram.”
“Thank you,” Cara said. “This is Sinclair Rondo.”
Harvey extended Rondo the same welcome. “We’ve seen his images from Luna. We know he helped you save Chancellor Osla from the SolGov attackers.”
Cara’s thoughts hiccupped. Is that how they were spinning her fight with Llana? Whatever they were thinking, nobody was trying to shoot her.
“We found a way through the Marsian blockade,” she said. “And here we are. I understand there are at least three Mars 1 Guard teams operating in the station. How close are they?”
Harvey motioned for them to follow him. The other members of his leadership team walked ahead to open the hatch into an outside corridor.
“We’ve managed to neutralize two of the teams.” He looked more tired than proud of the fact. “Unfortunately, we had to use methods that will make portions of the station uninhabitable without significant reclamation, but there was no other choice. There is one team left, and they’re working their way up the central axis. We’ve been sending waves of repurposed maintenance drones at them, but we’re running out of inventory. We’re going to have to sacrifice some of the agricultural equipment soon, and that could mean lost crops. We’re farmers, not fighters.”
Cara frowned slightly. “I thought you ha
d a military contingent here?”
“No. We’ve been in communication with Luna over the years since the exodus, but we never received any military support that we didn’t develop ourselves.”
“I see.”
Her heart had dropped at the news that two of the three Marsian teams had been killed. She might already be too late.
In any other situation, she would have supported these people, even if she was no fan of their government.
They entered a main corridor that was filled with people. Families lined the walls, with their belongings stacked neatly around them, as kids ran up and down the open space in the center. The space went quiet as they recognized Cara, and she nodded awkwardly to the first few people who stood to salute her.
“It’s Captain Sykes!” a little girl shouted, running with her hands in the air. As word spread down the corridor, everyone rose to their feet.
“Please,” Cara said. I’m no one special.
The words died in her throat. She couldn’t deny these people the hope she found in their eyes. It was the group from Luna, but more this time.
Did Chancellor Osla ever see these people?
She could only nod and do her best to smile at them. They were under attack. Yet everywhere she looked, she found hope. The Andersonians had suffered the destruction of their home on Ceres, but more than anyone in Sol, they were prepared for constant battle.
They had reached the entrance to what looked like the station command center. The doors slid open, and they walked through, leaving the refugees behind. The center was a large conference room, with displays along the walls, and a small holotank in the middle of the U-shaped table. Reports from throughout the station scrolled across the screen.
“All right,” Cara said. “I’m going to need to know where that last team is located.”
Harvey gave Cara a look like he’d just swallowed a rock.
“Are more of you coming?”
“No. Just the two of us.”
“Captain Sykes, your heroism continues to amaze me, but I can’t send you to fight those Marsians on your own. They’ve killed hundreds of us and thousands of our drones. Thousands. What do you hope to do against them?”
“I have a plan,” Cara said. “I’m not eager to end this life any time soon, I promise. All I need from you is the position of that team, and we’ll handle the rest.”
Her plan? Convince Tim she was his sister and that he should come along with her, and leave the Mars 1 Guard.
The plan fizzled out as she envisioned the details.
Step one was going to be Rondo frying Tim’s Link the same way he had been set free. Without that, there wasn’t going to be much they could do.
What if Tim was already dead? She and Rondo weren’t carrying the weaponry to take on a special-ops team.
Cara didn’t have an answer to that situation. They would have to fall back and figure it out.
Several people around the room had stood when Cara came in. Harvey made introductions. When he shared that Cara meant to go after the remaining Marsian team on her own, the assembled leaders fell quiet, then broke into a mass of voices.
After fifteen minutes of arguing, Cara relented to an accompanying team and an assortment of their heaviest weapons, which were modified riveters that spit slugs of molten metal.
Harvey approached the holotank and pulled up an expanded diagram of Hilgram Station. He pointed to their location near the head of the facility, then moved his finger down fifteen levels to a point that looked uncomfortably close to where they stood.
“We could wait where we are,” one of the leaders suggested.
Thinking of the families in the corridor outside, Cara shook her head.
“We’re taking the fight to them.”
CORNERS AND DOORS
STELLAR DATE: 09.03.3011 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Hilgram Station
REGION: Hildas Asteroids, OuterSol
The Marsian team reached the base of the station’s major ring. If the intel was correct, they had only fifteen more levels before they’d reach the administration area.
Ty asked because Clarise had bothered him until he did. She wouldn’t shut up about Chandrey’s death being his fault, and now she seemed convinced that Manny was running on outdated information.
The factory sections had transitioned into residential spaces. They jogged through deserted apartment blocks running the long, metal corridors. These might have been bureaucratic blocks at one point. Everything was too uniform to have been originally designed for housing. The Andersonians had spent time making things look more like neighborhoods with murals on the walls, vines and planter boxes, and even a few fountains with bubbling waterheads.
Rounding a corner, Ty caught the sound of one of the Andersonian rivet guns winding up, and grabbed Briggs back in time to keep him from taking a stream of hot metal in his chest.
Manny took a knee beside them and tossed a surveillance drone around the corner. Ty picked up the feed and shot his friend a scowl.
The drone had picked up a long park area with trees, and grassy sections with park benches and large planters. The drone had spotted at least five gun positions before it was shot down. There were more soldiers moving beyond the firing positions, as well as ground-based drones.
Ty scoured the schematic again, looking for another entry point. Now that the Andersonians knew where they were coming in, the doorway had become a kill zone. Unfortunately, the park was surrounded by solid apartment blocks with doorways from individual housing units, but only two main entries. They were just off the lower main entry.
Ty understood. His friend didn’t have to say that they needed to worry about the private.
Ty wasn’t used to Manny second-guessing command. His Clarise shouldn’t have allowed it.
The word hung between them. Retrograde was never part of a mission briefing. They would accomplish the mission, or progress until the matter was out of their hands.
Ty winced.
The Andersonians opened fire again, filling the corridor ahead of them with covering fire. Three grenades bounced around the corner, one rolling directly toward them.
He fired on the grenade, and pulled Briggs with him as he fell back. There was no cover, only a few planters sitting beside doorsteps.
The Andersonians were pressing forward now, concentrating fire, just as Ty had been afraid they would. Four more grenades bounced around the corner, filling the closed space with fire and concussive force. The walls splintered and exploded. Ty’s faceshield went white.
He lost Briggs in his HUD. Manny shouted in his Link, but Ty couldn’t answer. A slug of molten metal appeared through the dust, slamming into his right leg and knocking him off his feet. Ty landed on his stomach with a grunt, weapon
clattering in front of him.
Her voice had the same hard edge from before, when she had taunted him about Chandrey. He had failed. The mission was dead. It was time to die in place.
THE NEW MODEL
STELLAR DATE: Unknown
LOCATION: Unknown
REGION: Unknown
The sky inside the pearlescent dome was grey, and little light made it to the city below.
Lyssa and the Zardling walked down a wide avenue that seemed made for pedestrian traffic. The space was full of people walking, sitting on benches, gathering in small groups around vendors selling steaming drinks and sweets. Lyssa couldn’t place the time period; it might have been late twentieth century. No one appeared connected by the devices that would eventually become Link access.
People paid more attention to the Zardling than Lyssa.
The Zardling walked steadily down the middle of the street, head bowed as he grumbled to himself. People turned to watch him, but no one said anything.
After a few meters, a man with dark hair asked Lyssa, “Where did you get that? The workmanship is amazing.”
Lyssa stared at him, unsure how to answer. The Zardling either didn’t notice she had stopped, or wasn’t going to wait. He kept walking.
“I’m afraid I couldn’t tell you,” she said. “He was a gift.”
That wasn’t too much of a lie.
“Don't let him get out of your sight,” the man said. “Workmanship like that is going to get snatched up. We're all so sick of the standard frames. Even yours looks different. I can't quite tell in this light. Are you a new model?”
“Frame?”
“Well, the approximation, of course. If we weren’t on lock down, running drills, we could show some damn imagination.”
Running drills for what? Lyssa didn’t have have time to ask more questions. The Zardling had nearly disappeared down the street, covered by walking people. Lyssa hurried after him.