Fortunes of War (Stellar Main Book 1)

by Richard Tongue

  “They might do just that,” she said. “First distraction is me. I go in all guns blazing, take out as many of them as I can, and lead them on a chase. Second distraction is you, Rusty, getting the prisoners to Odin. You’ll need an immediate launch, even if it’s just to orbit. Or over to the other side of the mountain. Just away from the big bang.”

  “How do I get away from it?” Kruger asked.

  “Just head for Garcia. Join the group making for Odin.” Glancing at the slope, she said, “I’ll try and lead them to the caves. With luck, I’ll…”

  “Make it as far as the perimeter before being gunned down without even a fight,” Garcia replied, shaking his head. “You wouldn’t get fifty feet.” Glancing at the mountain, he added, “There might be some other things we could try. Bring in some air support with Pandora. Launch a…”

  “They’ve got at least a dozen hostages down there,” Carter protested. “If they spot us, then we’re dead, and so are they. Our only hope is to move quickly. Catch them totally off-guard.” She looked at the slope, and said, “Those guards are spending more time watching the prisoners than the perimeter. We should be able to get within a couple of hundred feet without being detected. After that, it all comes down to luck and speed.”

  “We’ve got to come up with something better than that,” Kruger replied.

  “I’m open to suggestions if you have any,” Carter said. Looking at the two of them, she added, “I knew the risks we were running, going in. Rusty, you’re the best choice to rescue the prisoners. Kruger, you can handle the charges. I can be spared as the decoy.”

  Garcia looked into her eyes, and said, “You don’t intend to come back, do you?”

  She looked back, and replied, “What happens, happens. A big part of me died back on that escape pod. If I go down there, maybe I can find it again.” With a thin smile, she added, “It’s not as though I’ve got much to lose at this point. No family, no close ties. I’m expendable.”

  “What about the rest of us?” Kruger said, taking a step back. “I didn’t sign up for a suicide mission.”

  “Neither did I,” Garcia added. “Vicky, we’re going to have to think of something else.”

  “As I said, I’m open to suggestions,” she replied. Taking a deep breath, she said, “Let’s get closer, at least. See what we can spot from shorter range. Maybe try and make contact with one of the prisoners.”

  “Rock soup,” Garcia said. At Kruger’s expression, he added, “It’s an old story. A beggar tells a noble he can make soup out of rocks. So, he puts them in boiling water, and asks for some herbs to flavor it. Then some vegetables to add depth. Then some meat for taste. Then he throws away the rocks.” Turning to Carter, he said, “You’re asking us for some rocks.”

  “And I’ll make a damned nice soup out of them,” she replied. “There’s only so much we can see from up here. Maybe there’s an opportunity we’re missing.” Looking at the two of them, she said, “Either we go down right now and continue our reconnaissance, or we head back to the ship. Which is it going to be? I’ve made my decision, and I guess it’s up to you to make yours.”

  Before Garcia could reply, they heard a loud roar from the far side of the mountain, Pandora’s engines beginning their start-up sequence. The three of them looked at each other in disbelief, Kruger’s hand reaching for his communicator before Carter slapped it away.

  “What the hell is going on over there?” the archaeologist asked.

  “I don’t know, but I know that someone else has made the decision for us. If Cassie’s decided that now is the time to launch an attack, then I’m going to trust her judgement.”

  “She’s a gun-obsessed lunatic!” Kruger protested.

  “We don’t have a choice,” Garcia said, shaking his head. “She’s only a few minutes from lift-off, and look at the compound below. They aren’t reacting. Not at all. Meaning that they’re expecting the ship to land at any moment.” Gesturing towards the guards, he added, “Just two of them, heading for the landing pad like they’ve got all the time in the world.”

  “Pandora’s been captured,” Kruger said, gloomily. “That just about beats it all.”

  “It cuts our options down to a single one,” Carter replied. “We attack. Right now. I suppose we could surrender, but…”

  “Some choice,” Kruger said, looking at the charges. “Next time, I run the covert assault.”

  “You think you’d do a better job?”

  “I couldn’t have done worse.” With a sigh, he said, “I’ll take the right. That should get me close to Fortuna. You’d better come up with a hell of a plan, Captain.”

  “Don’t worry, it’s a good one,” Carter replied. “Good hunting.” She made her way down the slope, moving nimbly from rock to rock, keeping down low, all the time trying to work out just how she was going to cause the distraction she had promised. The noise of Pandora’s engines grew, and she glanced at the mountain, watching some of the smaller rocks roll down the slope from the vibrations.

  A rockfall.

  She could set one off with her laser, firing at maximum charge. It’d play merry hell with the power pack, but if she got her aim just right, it would send a cascade of boulders running down the hill. Enough to give the guards something to think about while she moved into a better position. She pulled out a hand scanner, firing a quick radar pulse at the rocks, looking for a fault. It wasn’t hard to find. Sliding behind a rock, she looked up at the guards, then glanced across, trying to spot the others. Kruger was obvious, out of position, moving cautiously around the perimeter, but Garcia was already out of sight.

  Pandora’s engines rose to a crescendo. If she was going to act, it had to be now, or not at all. She lined up her pistol, running the charge cycle high enough to send amber warning lights glaring on the barrel, and narrowed the beam to give her the most precise shot possible. She had to be accurate, had to hit her mark on the first try. She took a deep breath to steady herself, then pulled the trigger, sending a pulse of laser light racing across the valley, smashing into the wall.

  The guards turned, their attention instantly drawn, but their focus quickly shifted as rocks began to tumble down the mountain, disturbed by the precisely-aimed shot. Thousands of boulders rolled down the hill, and the guards ran for cover, the prisoners taking what shelter they could. At the same moment, as though on cue, Pandora swooped over the mountain, plasma projectors hot, flying on a smooth arc to get safely down to the surface.

  There was no time for stealth, and no need. Nobody down there cared about her, not for a few precious moments, and she had to get to the ship, find out what was going on. Somewhere to her right, Garcia and Kruger were working to accomplish their mission, and she didn’t have any time to worry about them, either. As Pandora settled on the launch pad, she fired a second bolt at the nearest guard, felling him in a single shot, the question of the loyalty of Pandora’s pilot answered by the dispatch of a pair of plasma bolts into the enemy, two pillars of smoke and flame rising into the sky.

  The airlock slid open, Wu standing at the threshold, laser shotgun in hand. All around, chaos reigned in the compound, and Carter walked up to the engineer, clapping her on the shoulder.

  “Great timing!” she said. “How…”

  “Long story. I need to find a doctor, right away.” At Carter’s expression, she added, “Not me. Schmitt. He’s in a bad way.”

  “Odin had a medtech,” Carter replied. “Go find Garcia, help him free the prisoners.”

  “What about you?” Wu asked.

  “I’ve got a date with Sebastian Smith, and I don’t intend to miss it.”

  Chapter 25

  Garcia sprinted through the smoke, pistol in hand, running towards the crack where the Odin crewmen were finding shelter. A laser pulse flew past him, close enough that he felt the heat on his neck, and he looked down to see Scott holding a stolen pistol, pointing it square at his chest.

  “Lieutenant Garcia?” Scott asked. “What the hell are y
ou doing here.”

  “Rescue mission. Pandora just landed, and Vicky’s organizing a distraction. Can you move? We’ve got about five minutes to get you all out of here.”

  “Odin?” Scott replied. “She’s ready to fly. They had three of my people servicing her yesterday.” Turning to his crew, he said, “One quick run, people. We go right for our ship, get on board, and get the hell out of here as fast as we can. Don’t run in a straight line, don’t stop for anything. I mean it. We’ve got one chance to get off this rock, and I intend to take it.” Turning to Garcia, he asked, “Got any spare weapons?”

  “No,” he replied. “Just a two-shot plasma pistol, and I’ve only got one power pack. You?”

  “One of the guards loaned me his gun,” Scott said. “Mitchell, you take point. Head straight for the bridge and begin the pre-flight sequence.” Turning back to Garcia, Scott said, “We’ll ride shotgun, I guess.”

  Looking at the battlefield, Garcia said, “They’re beginning to rally. Just run like hell. Little Joe and I take the flanks. Move out. Now!” He turned, charging into the smoke, lasers hammering the ground all around him as the guards moved to block the escape of the prisoners. A near miss made it clear that they had no interest in recapturing them. Their base had been discovered. It was now a question of concealing the enormity of their crime, nothing more than that.

  Garcia fired blind, three shots into the smoke, hoping to at least pin them down as the prisoners raced from their hiding place, sprinting for their lives across the terrain, their ship only a hundred meters away, a distance that seemed impossible in the conditions. Garcia almost fell, stumbling over a body on the ground, staggering away as another laser bolt flew past his head. The dead pirate had saved his life; if he hadn’t tripped, that shot would have found its mark.

  All around them, the pirates were closing, forming a killing ground, and the advance of the prisoners grew uncertain, tentative, their eyes roaming the landscape in a bid to find cover. They couldn’t wait for that. Any delay meant their death. Garcia ran towards the nearest crewman, a young technician who looked barely old enough to shave, dragging him to the waiting airlock, the guards dead on either side.

  Then Pandora’s engines roared into life once more, rising slowly into the air. For a moment, Garcia thought that they were pulling out, but the plasma cannons fired, obviously on an automated pattern, randomly sending explosions cascading across the battlefield, the smell of ozone and smoke almost suffocating. Wu raced up to his side, laser shotgun in hands, firing a bolt of energy that ripped into a pirate that was lining up a shot on Garcia, sending the man collapsing to the dirt, clutching at his chest as he messily died.

  “Thanks for the assist,” Garcia said. “Stay on the flank.” Turning to the others, he yelled, “Move forward! Keep moving forward! We’ve got to take back the ship!” At the rear, a tardy engineer fell, clutching her leg, rolling to the side. Garcia looked, inwardly sighed, then raced over to her, Wu by his side, snatching her from the ground in a fireman’s lift as she wailed in pain, her leg reduced to a burned-out stump, cauterized by the heat of the bolt.

  With a loud whine, he heard the airlock systems engaging, hope filling his heart as he saw the first two crewmen scramble on board, only for that hope to disappear as they fell back again, one stumbling to the ground, gaping wounds on his chest, the other desperately diving for cover. The pirates had set a trap, and an obvious one. Scott ushered his men into cover, hiding behind a stack of crates, but several of them had already been reduced to burning fragments by the crossfire, destroying the precious contents within. They couldn’t wait there for long. Garcia laid the wounded woman on the ground, kneeling behind one of the crates, and looked across at Scott.

  “What do you think?” he asked.

  “All three of us, together,” Scott replied, gesturing at Wu. “Charge the bastards and go right in. If we do any damage to the airlock, we’ll just have to patch it on the fly. We run on the count of three.”

  “Got it,” Garcia said.

  “One,” Scott replied, and Garcia sprinted for the airlock, drawing the fire of the guards with the others only a handful of seconds behind him. He weaved from side to side, closing the distance as rapidly as he could, every step punctuated by a volley of laser bolts. Raising his pistol, he fired, catching one of the pirates in the arm, the other felled by a well-aimed shot from Scott. Almost before he realized it, he was aboard Odin, his feet rattling on the decks, charging into the lateral corridor.

  “Get moving!” he yelled. “It’s all clear!” Odin’s crew raced on board as Garcia charged towards the bridge, Scott and Wu hard on his heels. The blast door at the end of the corridor was locked and sealed, and Scott stabbed at the control panel, entering his access code, then entering it again when it failed to respond. He looked up at Garcia, shaking his head.

  “No good,” he replied. “They’ve changed the code. We’re going to need to burn our way through.”

  The sounds of battle echoed along the decks, and Garcia said, “No time.” He pulled out his plasma pistol, clipping it to his power pack and gestured for them all to stand back. He aimed at the center of the door, carefully adjusting the settings on the barrel of the pistol. Too light a blast, and the door would stand firm, the backlash likely enveloping the three of them, killing them instantly. Too heavy, and the ship would be damaged, the hull breached, controls wrecked. He had to make a perfect shot, and he had to make it on the first try.

  He forced himself to take a pair of deep breaths, lining up his shot with precision, and gently squeezed the trigger, feeling a burst of white heat as the gun fired, sending a bolt of purple flame hammering into the door. The metal burned through, molten alloy dripping onto the floor, and Garcia braved the heat to race through the opening, two of the pirates raising their hands as he entered, their weapons dropped uselessly to the floor.

  “Medical kit,” Garcia ordered. “I want them unconscious for a while.”

  “On it,” Scott said, rummaging through the emergency supplies on the wall, while Wu looked over the systems, tentatively working the controls.

  “Pre-flight sequence has already been initiated,” she reported. “All systems seem nominal at present. Ready for takeoff in two minutes.”

  As the two pirates slumped to the deck, Scott reached for his communicator, and said, “We’re good to go. Everyone’s on board. I’ll take the helm. Lieutenant…”

  “I’m going back out there,” Garcia said.

  “You’re crazy!” Scott replied.

  Shaking his head, he said, “Vicky and Kruger are still out there somewhere. I’m going to go and get them back. We’ll get away on Pandora.” Turning to Wu, he added, “Don’t even think about coming with me. They’re going to need you here to get this ship into orbit.”

  “Like hell,” Scott said. “If you go…”

  “You’re the commander of this ship,” Garcia said. “Your place is here, and if you don’t get your people to safety, we’ve been wasting our time.” Clapping his hand on the merchant’s shoulder, he said, “I’ll be fine. We’ll link up in synchronous orbit, right overhead, just as soon as we can.”

  “What about Fortuna?” Wu asked.

  “That’s just one more problem I’ve got to deal with. Don’t worry, we’ve got a plan, and oddly enough, it seems to be working.” He paused for a second, then said, “This isn’t a conversation. I’ll catch you later. Good luck.”

  “Save it,” Scott replied. “You’re going to need it more than we will.”

  With a smile, Garcia raced down the corridor, squeezing past two crewman bringing the wounded woman from earlier on board, and sliding the plasma pistol back into his holster, he raced out onto the battlefield. The gunfire was beginning to die now, and he could see Fortuna’s turrets turning, ranging towards Odin. He looked around for Kruger, finally spotting him lying underneath the enemy ship, a pair of pirates pointing pistols at him, the haversack hanging uselessly from his arm.

  Without
a second thought, Garcia charged, jumping over a blackened corpse in a single bound, drawing his laser pistol once again. Most of the power pack had been burned through for the plasma pistol. He had only a handful of shots remaining. It would have to be enough. He fired a quick shot, the two pirates instantly turning to face him, and Kruger reached for his dropped weapon, taking down one of the attackers with a bolt to the shoulder. The other looked at the charging Garcia and ran, sprinting for the nearest airlock.

  “Thank you,” Kruger said, rising to his feet.

  “Did you set the charges?”

  “One left, right here. While I was trying to work, a pair of pirates decided to attempt to engage me in conversation. I wasn’t particularly interested.” Cracking a smile, he added, “Cover me.”

  Turning to face the battlefield, Garcia looked around. A dozen columns of smoke rose into the air, Pandora continuing to fire, plasma bolts hammering into the structures. A random program implemented by Wu, but one that was giving a good illusion of a manned turret. Those old weapons could only work by themselves for so long, though, and he hated to think what the firing pattern was doing to the power distribution network. They had to move faster, far faster, or risk being stranded on this planet.

  “Come on, Kruger,” he said. “Come on.”

  “Art takes time,” the archaeologist replied. “Almost there.”

  “Hurry up, damn it. How long did you set on the charges?”

  “Two and a half minutes. Should be long enough for us to get out of the blast radius.”

  Garcia reached for his hand scanner, running it over the ship, and his eyes widened, saying, “Did you check out the cargo bay before you placed the bombs?”

  “No. No critical systems down there.” As Kruger slammed the bomb in position, he reached for the activator, adding, “Tell me that’s just you making conversation.”