“Stop the pack, stop the pack!” the man kept repeating while waving his arms and pointing.
The five guards stopped and looked around in confusion, not understanding the command. All Krag could think about was Keiko being in danger. He pulled his slug thrower and shot one of the guards guarding the double doors.
The two mechanics quickly stood, grabbed their rifles and charged Krag, yelling, “Hand up, hands up!”
As one of the mechanics tried to sight his pulse rifle, Krag lunged forward and grabbed the man’s wrist with his left hand. With Krag being a heavy-worlder and the local gravity being sixty percent of Earth norm, the fight wasn’t close to fair. Pulling, Krag jerked the soldier off his feet and swung the helpless man like a weight on a rope, slamming the body into the support beam and breaking his back. Continuing the pivot, Krag brought his slug thrower to bear and fired a round through the second mechanic’s eye. The loud blasts of the gun’s discharge briefly froze the last two soldiers in place. Swinging the gun to his next target, the remaining guard at the double doors, Krag again fired, blasting a hole through the man’s chest, through his spine and out the back.
That was when the hard-shelled backpack with its cylinder appeared to zoom over the upper deck railing, Keiko, her chameleon suit set to max. She moved fast. She had taken a stride to the railing and launched herself into space, tucking into a ball and performing a forward roll. To Krag, it looked like the backpack and cylinder were self-propelled, circling through the air, targeting towards the last soldier on the floor.
Keiko expanded, splayed her arms and legs and crashed into the back of the final Federacy trooper. As he staggered a step from the force of the small woman, she wrapped her legs around his thighs, impeding anymore steps. The man began to topple. Keiko pulled a knife from her utility belt, shoved it through his throat and cut outward. A cloud of blood erupted. As the dead man hit face down in the growing pool of blood she tumbled through a forward roll. The weight of the hard shelled backpack with its cylinder threw her weight off, driving her momentum forward. She bounced to a sprinting position, one leg forward and ended running towards the door.
All Krag saw was a backpack abruptly slamming into the trooper’s back, a knife tearing through the neck and the dying man toppling over. Then he saw the backpack roll forward and bounce upright.
“Go! Go! Go!” Krag heard Keiko’s disembodied voice as he watched the knife clatter on the duracrete surface.
Krag allowed the bouncing, fast moving backpack to pass, turned and pounded after Keiko. More troops began pouring into the storage area and someone activated an emergency klaxon, sending variably pitched wails through the compound. Krag snapped back quick glances occasionally to let off a thunderous blast. Ejecting the spent clip, Krag pulled a spare from his pocket and slammed it home. Cocking the pistol, he continued to let off quick shots at their pursuers.
Krag and Keiko raced through the door and down the road leading to the gate. Looking to his left, Krag saw Brian staring out the window of his truck. Krag reached into a packet, pulled out the detonator and tossed it at the bomb-strapped man. “Toggle is off. You’re free” Krag shouted. He didn’t wait to see what Brian did.
More troops began to show up, looking around and then dashing back into their buildings, to arm up and get into the hunt. Krag didn’t fire, Keiko didn’t throw any darts. They just ran, dodging and weaving, sprinting hard for the gate. The two gate guards turned to see what the ruckus was about. Seeing the running major and the bouncing pack, they began to pull their pulse weapons off of their shoulders. Krag shot the first one, directly in his chest, blowing a hole through his body and blasting him back into the barrier. At the same time, Keiko grabbed a dart and underhanded it into the other guard’s throat. The deadly neurotoxin immediately shut down his nervous system and killed him instantly. The two did this while dodging energy and laser pulses. Krag knew that, if these had been crack Federacy marines, he and Keiko would be dead by now. But, as he had surmised, this was a vacation tour, with uninterested soldiers led by uninterested officers. The lack of training and discipline showed.
Reaching the gate, Krag scooped up the two pulse rifles lying beside the killed guards and shouldered them both on his left arm. The two fugitives broke to the right, using the wall as cover. Just as they turned, Keiko spun and dropped on her back, her chameleon suit quitting. As she materialized, Krag skidded to a halt.
“I’m hit,” Keiko screamed, grabbing her leg and struggling to stand. “Left thigh.”
“Shit,” Krag exclaimed, his adrenalin-flushed body rising another notch. Again, but just for a moment, he was distracted by Keiko in her flat black body suit. For just a moment, he was struck with the black shadow of the small naked-appearing woman struggling to stand. The moment passed. Krag grabbed Keiko by the backpack harness, hoisted her one handed over his shoulder and resumed his all-out sprint.
“Buster, Launch to me!!” Krag shouted. As he angled towards the cluster of boulders where they had stashed the CERVEs.
“Who’s that?” Keiko moaned as she bounced on Krag’s shoulder while his feet pounded the ground and his breathing sounded like bellows blowing on fire.
“The cavalry,” he replied in between his labored breathing.
Stopping just long enough to grab both of Keiko’s hands, he shifted her to a piggyback position and wrapped her arms around his neck.
“Hold tight,” Krag shouted.
Keiko yelped when she locked her injured leg around his waist. Being a heavy worlder and this moon’s gravity less than Old Earth’s, Krag hardly noticed the tiny woman clinging to his back.
Krag put away his shooter, dropped to all fours and began lunging leaps towards their destination. “One mile,” Krag thought as he raced towards the rocks. “Fifteen minutes, with defensive stops. Come on, Buster.
Half way to their destination, a band of soldiers came through the gate, took up open fire positions and began shooting at the fleeing pair. But running all fours, springing at different angles and varying his target, Krag was able to avoid being brought down by the fusillade of laser and energy pulses. Periodically he would spring behind a rock or bush, unlimber a rifle and spray the enemy, keeping them on notice that they could die. Once he was hit in the side by an energy blast but the dispersal net of his body armor allowed him to keep lunging hard. He felt Keiko go tense as the burst electrified her, but she held on, a growl escaping from her throat.
As they angled towards the rocks, a flaming meteor tore through the atmosphere, angling towards Krag’s position. At the last moment, it suddenly fish-hooked up twenty feet. At the peak of its short ascent, it exploded, releasing Buster’s avatar, dressed in full combat gear. Buster dropped the thirty feet and landed with such force that rocks and gravel vibrated off of the boulders that Krag was lunging for. Scrambling the last couple of hundred yards, he dove into the protection of the rocks, stood up and grabbed Keiko’s arms.
“Let go. I’ve got you,” he said, lungs pumping like billows, gasps breaking his speech.
As she released her grip, Krag gently lowered her down his back, turned to face her and helped her remove the pack holding the core. Then he helped her down to a sitting position with her legs laying straight. Looking at her wounded leg, he commented, “It’s a through-and-through. Tore up some muscle, no bone. Laser shot. Cauterized your wound. You were lucky.”
Pulling a field kit from a leg pocket, he pulled out two pressure wraps, pressed a pre-medicated pad against each wound and tied them off.
“Can you fly?” he asked.
“Just get me to the CERVE,” was her reply through gritted teeth.
Hoisting her up, he carried her to her CERVE and carefully slid her into the seat.
“That was fun. You can be my pony, anytime,” Keiko said, with a weary, painful smile. She reached up, pulled down the canopy, kept the smile and gave Krag a thumb up. Then she donned her helmet and began going through the pre-launch checks.
Krag squat-wal
ked backed over to the protective boulders and took a quick peak. Buster had everything under control.
Turning towards the advancing squad, Buster had anchored his stance, raised his five-barreled Gatling gun and begun mowing down the enemy with withering energy blasts that blew apart anything they hit. Ground, men and women exploded or were torn to shreds. Some managed to hit Buster, but his combat armor shrugged off the light weapon return fire. When a combat vehicle reached the gate and proceeded to take aim at the standing android, Buster pointed his left hand at the tank and fired his rocket launcher. The vehicle exploded, rising off the ground and crashing back down, effectively blocking the gate.
“Danger is increasing, Captain,” Buster stated. “A gun ship readying for takeoff.”
Krag returned to Keiko, verified that she had donned her breathing gear and pressurized the cockpit.
“One Minute,” Krag announced.
Krag tossed the hard-shelled pack, with its cylinder still attached, into his ship, climbed in and repeated the flight prep that Keiko had gone through. “Ready?” he asked over the com link.
“Ready.”
“Buster, launch ten seconds after us,” Krag commanded. “Sparrow, take off.”
Krag and Keiko floated their CERVEs, oriented them away from the enemy, raised their noses to eighty degrees, fired their single shot chemical rockets and blasted towards the stratosphere. Ten seconds later, Buster pressed his arms to his sides, initiated the dual rocket pack on his back and followed the fleeing pair.
By this time, the gunship had launched. It thundered after the fleeing CERVEs and avatar, firing a fusillade of laser and particle blasts at the three fugitives. But Krag had been a fighter pilot. He had spent twenty years perfecting evade and avoidance techniques for situations such as this.
“He bobbed, dropped, rose, weaved and varied his speed. While doing this, Krag verified that the hours of Keiko’s practice were paying off. Her mirroring of his erratic course wasn’t perfect, but she sat off his wing and fought to match him, maneuver for maneuver. Krag was careful not to juke towards Keiko, as he wasn’t sure if her reaction time would be quick enough to catch the move and reposition without a collision.
“Buster, defensive aggression.”
Buster abruptly flared up, pivoted to face the oncoming gunship and laid down a rocket and cannon fire that blasted into the Transilium forward window of the approaching danger.
Transilium, a transparent, tightly packed alloy used for viewing ports in space, is extremely dense and designed to be used at normal speeds. The tough, clear material can withstand the random space pebble or rock, even light fire. But it was never designed to take the savage onslaught that the avatar unleashed. Before the pilot could close the blast deflectors, the first mini-rockets exploded on the view port, blasting holes into the hull. As air rushed out, more mini-rockets sped in, through the blasted holes. They struck equipment and bulkheads and detonated, destroying everyone and everything on the bridge.
The gunship died quickly. Buster reoriented and continued to flee towards Griffin.
“Captain,” Buster called.
“Yes?”
They’ve launched a second gunship. By my calculation, it will reach us at about the same time as we reach the Griffin.”
“Copy that. Buster, resume full Griffin command.
“Yes, Captain.”
“Open the bay doors and prepare for hot landings and set up the emergency escape sequence.”
“Yes, Sir‘
“Eyes,” Krag called.
“Yes, Hawk,” Sue responded.
“Sparrow’s been shot. Laser, through-and-through in her thigh. Get the medical unit and meet me in her cabin.”
“I’m on my way.”
“Hands,” Krag continued.
“I’ve been listening, Hawk,” was Mack’s reply.
“I need you on weapons. We’ve got company. Single gunship.”
With the head start, the quicker acceleration curve and Krag’s protocols, the two ships and Buster’s avatar flew intricate weaving patterns as they raced towards Griffin. The pilot of the second gunship had pushed his thrusters to their stops and flew an all-out sprint to get to the criminal ship before it had a chance to escape. As he charged forward, he fired his own rockets and cannons, hoping for a lucky shot.
Time passed. Krag sweated as he maneuvered and dodged, keeping all his senses on the approaching enemy and its fusillade of fire power. He could afford only quick glances to verify that Keiko still shadowed him. She did. It was going to be close.
Krag saw the open bay doors. At the last minute, the two CERVEs flipped nose-to-tail, pulsed the thrusters to max then shut own. Each, First Keiko’s then Krag’s, CERVE glided in and, with maneuvering jets, settled to the deck. Buster flew in head first, shut off his jets, rotated ninety degrees and landed with a clunk. As the three of them landed, the bay doors slammed shut and atmosphere began filling the bay.
With Buster commanding Griffin, the ship began an acceleration burn that slowly expanded the distance from the pursuing gun ship.
The moment the status light went green, Krag hit the release on his harness, popped his canopy, sprang out and raced over to Keiko. She had just popped her own canopy and was struggling with her helmet. Krag gently worked it off, pressed her harness release and, grabbing under her arms, lifted the slight woman out of the CERVE. Letting her stand for a moment, he picked her back up, this time like holding a child, and sped off to Keiko’s suite. Keiko took in Krag’s effort and concern and used them to offset the pain from her leg.
Reaching her cabin, Krag saw Sue bustling over the medical unit. She already had the injection arm and surgery arms released. Working the control panel, she loaded the hypo with painkillers and antibiotics. The gauzes and bandages were already placed on the control tray.
Krag gently placed Keiko on the bed and brushed small strands of hair from her face. “How you doing, Half-Pint?”
“Peachy, Big Guy. I need a good, stiff drink, though.”
“How about some great drugs?” he joked as he cut away his makeshift bandages.
“That’ll do.”
“She’s all yours,” Krag stated, looking at Sue. “You know about Buster?” he asked.
“Mack told me. So that’s what I did five years ago,” Sue responded.
“Now you know. Talk to buster. He has all of the medical knowledge you will need. Hang on. We gotta run.”
With that Krag dashed out the hatch and ran to the bridge. “Buster, get your avatar to Keiko’s suite and have it assist Sue.
“I am sending the avatar now,” was Buster’s reply.
Reaching the bridge, Krag practically dove into the commander’s egg-shaped chair. He slammed close the lid, grabbed the paddles and started toggling switches. The form-fitting flight seat pressurized and snugged him into the high-gee cocoon.
“Mack, where’s that gun ship?”
“Give me a second,” Hank replied from his position in the sensor/weapons pod.
A moment later, Griffin shuddered from the upper rail gun discharging five hundred rounds of one-hundred millimeter explosive shells. The gun ship never had a chance. Its energy dispersal field and mid-level armor were no match for the metal slugs. Almost all of them breached the hull, digging into the ship before the shells exploded, turning the ship and its crew into so much space wreckage.
“Say goodbye to your tagalong, Cap. It’s gone. When I saw the specs with old-school projectiles, I didn’t figure it out. But, laser or energy weapon wouldn’t have done the job like these sluggers. You think them up?”
“Nope. Your dad. Well done, Mack. Make sure everything is tied down. I’m going to sling shot around Titus, get a good speed and go dark.” Switching topics, Krag continued, “Sue, how are you doing back there?”
“The Med Unit doped up Keiko. She’s pretty loopy. It cleaned out the wound and packed it with antibiotics. It’s starting to suture her up, now.
“Maybe hold off fo
r about ten minutes. Just rewrap it. I’m pushing us to an eight gee burn. The dampeners are going to have a hard time holding everything down. For now, just zip Keiko into her bunk and get into yours.”
“Will do.” Sue followed her answer with readjusting Keiko and helping her get zipped into her gravity bag. Just as Sue reached her bunk, the forward thrust of the Griffin threw her to the floor. Grabbing the frame, she pulled herself up and zipped herself in.
“Hang on, people. It’s going to be rough,” Krag announced over the intercom. “Buster, set a course for maximum escape velocity from Titus and direct us to the Cencore star.”
“Course plotted, Captain,” Buster responded less than a second later.
“Initiate,” Krag commanded.
The antigravity buffers were set to max. They weren’t enough. Anyone who hadn’t been in gravity bags or the bridge pods would have had their ribs compressed to the point of breaking. They would have blacked out from the increased internal body pressures and would have died from lack of blood flow through their brains. But the four crew members were safe. Even sedated, Keiko moaned from the pressure that was exerted through her gravity bag. Sue let loose a constant string of curses, complaining about every pain that the high gee acceleration caused her to experience, while fighting to not black out.
Mack, comfortably swaddled in his pod, scanned for any pursuit. Krag had his hands on the controls, nerves on edge, ready to jump at any manifesting threat.
“Hey, Lassie. How are you doing?” Mack asked.
“How do you think I’m doing?” Sue had to gasp out her answer. “You get the gravity bag next time.”
“Ya. I hear ya. And such colorful language. Hang in there. Five more minutes, Lassie.”
Sleeping in the Stars (Marston Chronicles Book 1) Page 25
