by Richard Fox
“Go.”
Jerry heard the hiss as super-hot steam blasted out of Valiant’s exhaust ports on either side of the ship, creating two large clouds of vapor. He dropped to the roof and ran to his left, keeping low, praying the ship’s exhaust would shield his movements long enough to get to cover.
The building’s power junction boxes were grey metal, clustered together near two large cooling fans, which thrummed with power. Jerry ducked behind the first box just as the venting stopped. Carefully, he peered around the side and saw the pirates moving away from the dissipating clouds of exhaust, cursing and shouting at the ship. None appeared to have noticed him.
“Okay, I’m here,” Jerry said.
He went to work on the access panel covering the junction box, and a few seconds later, had it off. Inside, he found clusters of circuits and wires, none of which made any sense to him at all.
He keyed his throat mic. “How the hell am I supposed to know where to plug this damn thing in at?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Elias said. “Just attach it; the bridge should do all the work.”
Jerry pulled the small electronic device out of the case. It was slightly larger than his palm. One side was smooth, black plastic; the other was covered in small pins with two clamps on two sides. He pressed it against the largest circuit board until it clamped down, securing itself to electronics.
Several lights appeared on the back side, blinking red and green.
Jerry looked up as one of the aliens near the Valiant’s ramp started screaming. He pushed one of the other pirates, pointing to the ship and shouting words that Jerry couldn’t understand. The underling cringed and backed away, hands up in supplication.
Two more big-eared aliens ran up to the group, carrying a large case between them. They set it down in front of the leader and opened the lid. The leader laughed, producing a large cylindrical tool. He flicked a switch and a blue flame erupted from the tip.
Plasma torch, Jerry thought. They’re going to cut through the hull.
He keyed his throat mic. “Are you getting anything?”
“No, I… wait, yes, I have something,” Elias said. “Yes, we’re in! Nice work!”
“Great. Can you vent more exhaust? I’m ready to come back in.”
“Hold on. Yeah, you ready?”
Jerry got to his feet, bending his knees slightly, ready to run. “Ready.”
“Go!”
Exhaust blasted from the vents and Jerry launched himself forward. He’d only made it about three steps before the venting cut short. Shouts rang out as the exhaust dissipated. Three aliens in the main group pointed at Jerry as he crossed the halfway mark.
Gunshots rang out. Jerry ducked and heard several bullets zip past him. He pushed harder, reaching the access tunnel and jumping for the rungs. Bullets ricocheted off the ship’s hull and ground underneath him as he pulled his feet inside. Jerry pulled himself up the ladder and rolled into the tunnel above.
“Close it! Shut the hatch!” he shouted.
Chapter 26
This was a terrible idea, Carson thought, focusing on not vomiting all over Nunez’s back. She squeezed him tighter as another wave of nausea hit her.
“You doing all right back there, Chief?” Nunez asked, looking back over his shoulder.
“I’m fine. Just get us there, and hurry.”
“I’m giving her hell, Chief. It’s all she’s got.”
Even with the wind whipping around them like a hurricane, Carson could hear the sounds of battle below. Gunfire and explosions echoed through the air from every part of the city.
Another drop pod erupted into flame off to their left as the Diasore anti-aircraft guns tore through it. Bright bolts of energy filled the night sky around them, taking out drop pods every few minutes, but the defenses weren’t enough. The Netherguard assault continued unabated, as hundreds of the cylindrical containers plummeted from orbit, ferrying squads of foot soldiers to the city below.
Fires billowed up from destroyed buildings, and smoke rose into the air from a thousand fires littered throughout the city. Platoons of combat droids engaged the Netherguard in every section of the city, but with a seemingly endless supply of enemy soldiers, Carson wasn’t sure if they’d succeed in repelling the invaders. After experiencing how the local Intelligence Node operated and knowing how aggressive and powerful the Netherguard were, she doubted it.
“There is it,” Moretti said over the IR.
Carson looked over Nunez’s shoulder and saw a 100-story skyscraper rising out of the city ahead of them. Interior lights created a mosaic of pale orange, yellow and white lights up and down the entire height of the building. It looked relatively untouched by the Ultari attack, but Carson knew that probably wouldn’t last long.
Carson keyed her IR link to the Valiant.
“Hello?” Elias said.
“Any luck on that patch, Elias?”
“Jerry’s outside right now trying to get the link connected. I’m a little worried. The pirates were banging on the cargo ramp a few minutes ago, but they’ve stopped now.”
“We’re almost there. Is the ship locked up?”
“As far as I can tell, all the hatches are shut and locked.”
“Good,” Carson said. “Keep it that way. How’s Popov?”
“Her breathing’s slowed. I… I don’t think…”
“Just hold on, Elias. We’re coming. Let me know as soon as you get that connection patched in.”
“Okay.”
“Carson out.”
“What do you think?” Nunez asked.
Landing platforms stretched out from the side of the building ever thirty or forty levels. She could just see the Valiant, sitting on a wide landing pad on the building’s roof. She could see faint outlines of figures surrounding the ship but couldn’t tell if any of them were Abendu or not.
“There’s no way of telling how many people Abendu’s got guarding the ship or the prisoners. If we attack the ones guarding the roof, they'd be able to warn the ones guarding the prisoners.”
“We can take the ship,” Birch said.
“Yes,” Moretti said. “If Popov’s as bad as those boys say she is, I need to get to her sooner than later.”
“I don’t like the idea of splitting up,” Carson said.
“It’s not a great play,” Birch admitted. “But I don’t think we have a lot of choice.”
Carson’s IR chimed. It was Elias. “Go ahead, Elias.”
“We’re connected,” Elias said. “I'm searching for the crew now. Looks like there is a lot of extra security somewhere between the landing pad on the 80th level and the roof, they’ve got some video feeds running back to the mainframe. Checking them now.” He paused briefly. “Yeah, 89.”
Carson tapped Nunez on the shoulder. “Platform on the 80th level, put us down.”
“Got it.” Nunez worked the controls and Carson felt the bike dip. Her stomach turned around.
“And Chief Carson,” Elias said. “I’d hurry. Popov looks real bad.”
“Understood,” Carson said. “Moretti, Birch, you have the Valiant. Wait until I give the signal before you attack.”
“Roger that,” Moretti said, gunning the bike shooting up through the air.
Nunez maneuvered his airbike around the edge of the building, coming up on the side of the platform. He flared the airbike briefly as he crossed the threshold, bringing them to a crawl. Carson jumped off the bike before Nunez came to a complete stop.
The view out to the city was breath-taking, even amidst the fierce battle filling the sky above. A drop pod crashed into a building several blocks away, exploding in a brilliant fireball, sending chunks of building raining down.
West and Jena set down as Nunez stepped up beside her. West waited for the Zeis to climb off, then followed.
“We’re going to need to move fast,” Carson said. She checked the magazine count in her gauss carbine’s optics, then let it hang from its sling around her shoulder. She dr
ew her pistol, flipped it around to hold it by the barrel, then held it out for Jena. “Your friend said he knew how to handle guns. I assume you do as well.”
Jena took the weapon, inspected it for a second, then ejected the magazine, racked the slide, and snatched the ejected cartridge out of the air as it spun out of the chamber. Without hesitation, she slid the bullet back into the chamber, sent the slide forward again, and slapped the magazine back into the pistol’s grip. She brought it up in both hands, checking the sights, then lowered it to her chest and nodded. “I’m familiar.”
Carson couldn’t help but grin. “I see. Here’s a couple extra magazines.”
****
Carson led her team to the building’s entrance, double glass doors set into a wall of windows that wrapped around the building. Inside, there was a small atrium, with four banks of elevators at the far end. Nunez pulled on the door, locked.
“I think I can pick this,” Nunez said, kneeling down in front of the door’s panel.
“Elias,” Carson said, keying her IR.
“Yes?”
“Can you unlock some doors for us? Platform access, 80th floor?”
“Just a second.”
The door clicked. Nunez grunted and pulled it open, nodding his approval.
“Nice work,” Carson said. “Stand by, we may need some more help.”
“Okay.”
They filled into a small lobby, footsteps muted by the carpeted floor. A small end table next to an uncomfortable-looking chair was the only furniture. A door to their right was marked with words that Carson couldn’t read, but the small image told her everything she needed to know: stairs.
“Nunez.” Carson nodded to the stairwell entrance.
“Roger.”
He paused briefly at the door, then slowly pulled it open. West moved in, his pistol up, sweeping the interior. He moved to the base of the stairs leading up and paused, scanning the landing above. “Clear.”
“Move,” Carson said. “Jena, follow Nunez. I’ll cover the rear.”
West led their group up, carefully clearing each landing as they ascended the stairs. He stopped on the landing between the 80th and 81st levels, weapon trained on the exit door above.
Carson keyed her IR. “Birch, Moretti, we’re in position. What’s your status?”
Birch answered. “We’re hovering about 200 feet above the Valiant, looks like Abendu’s men are trying to cut through the rear cargo hatch. I don’t see any sign of the little bastard with them, though my guess is he’s still in the building somewhere. I count six hostiles up here. Shouldn’t be an issue. Wait… shit, they’re bringing in a plasma ram. Chief, we need to move now.”
“Shit,” Carson said.
Elias’s panicked voice came over her comms. “Chief! Chief, I think they’re going to get through!”
In the background, Carson heard a loud metallic thunk and Elias screamed. “We’re coming, Elias. Stay where you are.”
West glanced over his shoulder at the chief. “We go?”
“Go.”
West stepped forward, starting up the stairs to the final landing. When he was halfway up, the door on the landing above opened. A Pindiki pirate stepped into the stairwell, dressed all in black, rifle held across his chest, muzzle down. A matte back helmet covered the alien’s head. Two round domes, obviously covering his ears, gave the alien an almost comical look. His eyes swept down, immediately growing wide with shock. He opened his mouth to raise the alarm, body twisting to bring his rifle to bear.
Without a word, West fired. His pistol barked twice and two 10mm rounds slammed into the Pindiki’s chest. He cried out in surprise as his body jerked at the impact. He stumbled back in the corridor, dropping his rifle.
“Move,” Carson said, charging up.
West shouldered the door aside and stepped into the corridor.
Carson practically shoved Nunez through, as two more gunshots echoed down the long corridor. Two more rounds from West’s pistol caught the alien in the back, sending him sprawling forward, landing face down on the floor.
“Nice sh—” Nunez started, but was cut off by three rapid fire shots going off directly behind them.
All three Pathfinders turned to see Jena standing, pistol extended, smoke curling up from the barrel. Ten feet away, another pirate was sliding down the wall, his blood smearing a trail through the tan paint.
“Which way?” West asked.
Carson shook her head. “We need to—”
Shouts came from where the first dead pirate lay. A door opened, and another pirate stepped out, firing. His shots were wild, punching through the wall just in front of the Pathfinders. Nunez dropped the alien with a single burst from his gauss carbine.
“That way, move!” Carson shouted.
West and Nunez split, moving up opposite sides of the corridor. Carson and Jena followed West, keeping a few feet separation so they wouldn’t get bogged down should they have to change directions or move unexpectedly.
Gunshots rang out and the right side of the wall ahead exploded, spraying the corridor with plaster and dust. The volley ceased and someone shouted, “Don’t come any closer or we’ll kill the hostages!”
Nunez took a knee. “Frag and clear?”
Carson shook her head. “Not with the hostages in there. Do we have any dazzlers?”
“I’ve got one,” West said. “We can use it, but in those tight conditions, I’d worry about blinding our people.”
“It’s better than being dead,” Carson said.
West nodded.
“Stay back,” the Pindiki yelled, voice cracking, punctuating his words with gunfire. “We kill them all!”
“Damn,” Carson said, pressing herself into the wall.
“Do we negotiate?” Nunez asked.
Carson shook her head. “We don’t have the time for that. We are going to have to go in fast and strong.”
They stacked up and moved down the corridor, hugging the right side, Carson in the lead. She stopped two meters away from the damaged wall. Sparks shot out from fist-sized holes in the plaster, the interior flashing with every shower. A cloud of white dust filled the corridor, tiny particles floating down through the air.
She could hear movement inside and one of the guards telling the hostages to stay quiet. Carson glanced back over her shoulder and held her hand out for West’s dazzler. She pulled the safety pin, keeping her thumb off the trigger button, and mouthed her countdown.
At one, she jammed the button down, activating the grenade, then shoved it through one of the holes in the wall.
The guards shouted, footsteps pounding as they ran for cover. One of the guards opened fire, bullets tearing through the wall, filling the corridor with more debris and dust into the air.
A second later, the dazzler went off. Beams of light shot out through the holes in the wall, light refracting through the dust and bouncing off twirling particles in the air. The air pulsed as the device blasted the room with an earsplitting boom.
Carson stepped back and slammed a boot into the door. The lock snapped, and the door swung back, bouncing off the wall behind it. She charged in, stepping to her left, eyes scanning the room.
Valiant’s seven crewmembers were arranged in a small cluster near the back of the room, in front of a wall of windows looking down over the city. They sat cross-legged, hands tied behind their backs, a few lying on their side, trying to bury their heads in the carpet, shielding themselves from the effects of the dazzler. Carson picked out Greer near the back of the group, already picking herself back up.
Carson’s first target was doubled over behind an upended table, hands covering both oversized ears. Two shots sent him reeling back, tripping over a lamp. He landed on his back, hands struggling to bring his rifle up. Carson fired again, the round slamming into his forehead, snapping it back. The guard’s head bounced off the floor, then he went limp.
The guard who’d been standing beside him looked up at the shots, then watched, frozen
in terror, as Carson dropped him. He screamed guttural alien words, eyes locking on Carson as he brought his rifle up. Carson dropped and rolled to the left as he fired, the shot going wide, slamming into the front wall of the room. She came up on one knee, found her target, and fired, the pistol jerking twice in her hands.
The rounds took the guard in the waist. He spun away, screaming in pain, dropping his rifle as his legs tripped over an overturned chair behind him. Wood shattered as he landed; his back hit the edge of the seat and snapped back in a blood-curdling crack. His scream died on his lips and his corpse hung there, balanced awkwardly on the broken chair.
To her right, Nunez stepped through the door, moving to the far wall, searching a shot for the guard by Valiant’s crew. The Pindiki had stepped back toward the middle of the group, shouting alien commands as his two friends were shot down. He fired from the hip, sweeping his rifle back and forth, apparently unsure which Pathfinder he wanted to target first.
Bullets tore through the carpet to Carson’s right, then stitched across the room toward Nunez. Carson dove behind a lounge chair as bits of carpet and flooring sprayed into the air. Nunez dove for a small wooden dresser, but landed short, rolling to his knees inches away from cover.
Lying on her side, behind the chair, Carson saw Greer move, the pilot pushing herself to her knees, then getting her feet under her.
“Rachel, no!” Carson yelled, bringing her pistol up.
With a cry of pure rage, Greer launched herself into the guard, driving her shoulder his back. The guard’s hail of gunfire cut off abruptly, the impact knocking him off balance, slumping forward.
The guard by the window finally seemed to gather his bearings. Backpedaling, trying to create space between him and the Pathfinders, he shouted something and brought his rifle up. Two shots rang out and the Pindiki jerked back just before he fired. The impact of two tungsten slugs knocked the guard back. He slammed into the floor-to-ceiling window, shattering the glass and screamed as his momentum carried him out of the building, into the night air outside.
Greer cried out, falling to the ground, bound hands reaching for a wound in her thigh, blood already staining her jumpsuit.
