“Let’s move,” Irons ordered.
Hannah grabbed the third Catter gun and got right to work on it while she was on the move.
“When this is all over, Captain,” Haddron began. “What happens next?”
“I don’t follow.”
“I think you do.”
“What happens to us?” Jammin added. “This whole thing is temporary, right?”
“Can’t say there’s an easy answer, there,” Irons said. “It’s as temporary as it needs to be.”
“What does that mean?” Jammin asked.
Irons stopped at a building corner. He peered around to an empty throughway. The building across from them had two large cannon emplacements on it. Irons looked back the way they had come and saw the same thing on another building.
“I’ll be right back.” The thrusters on Irons’s boots ignited, sending him upward until his head rose just above the building. The HUD read off readings too numerous to acknowledge. Numbers and frequencies. Equations that he didn’t understand. It was all giving him a headache.
“Stop,” he growled.
At his command the display readings stopped and flickered off, giving him clear sight of the scene before him. Nearly every building had some sort of weapon on it. None of those weapons had any operators, leading Irons to believe in some sort of central command or automation. Either way, the sheer number of them, plus the size of the surface they were on was enough to make the Slagschip look like a handgun. And this was only half of the planet. The Terraformer was still being used to change the rest of the surface when it was already looking fearsome. Once complete, it could be the most powerful weapon in the universe.
“Captain?” Durham called up as loud as he dared.
Irons lowered himself to the ground. His landing made a deep clang as the metal boots hit the metal ground. Fortunately, it didn’t echo very much.
“What did you see?” Haddron asked.
“A lot of guns. More than enough to take out several fleets.”
“And this is only half of it,” Jammin said.
“Enemy movements?” Durham was starting to sound like Lindsay.
It was a sign of a good soldier but Irons had grown accustomed to the levity Durham had always provided. His sense of humor gave a little hope in seemingly hopeless situations. The new resolve was cold and made Irons feel the odds were even more stacked against them.
“None. The guns ain’t manned.”
Durham glanced around. “Seems to be a trend, here. Haven’t seen any Catters since the first three.”
“Count that as a fortunate thing,” Haddron said.
“Seems eerie to me,” Durham mutterred.
Hannah finished work on the other Catter weapon and chambered a round. Her whole body was shaking. Of all of James Irons’s crew, she was the one he worried about most. Her field training wasn’t in question but her battle experience was mostly zeros and ones on a display screen. Fighting was not her specialty. Under normal battle circumstances she would be a liability but behind enemy lines, any hand with a gun was an asset. Even a shaking hand might hit one enemy attacker, leaving one less enemy to worry about.
The Tech Specialist stuck her head around the corner, gun aimed. She saw nothing. The throughway was quiet. It was eerie, like Durham said. Her eyes darted around at the various buildings until she glanced up, a spire of sorts catching her eye. She stepped out from the wall of the building they’d holed up at.
“Hannah!” Irons whispered loudly.
“Captain.” She pointed forward. “We’re going to need that.”
The others stepped into the clearing and all looked at the building and its spire.
“That’s a radio tower, isn’t it?” Durham asked.
Irons allowed his heads up display to activate. He stared at the tower and noticed frequency bands on his readout. “Yes, it is.”
“We might be able to get a call out to the others,” Hannah said.
Irons smiled. “Good soldier.”
The rush of passing air filled the sky.
“LAV!” Durham shouted.
“Move!” Irons dashed toward the communications building.
Haddron rushed well ahead of the others, getting into the building with little trouble. Irons flew above Durham and Hannah, giving them some level of protection in case the LAV fired on them.
The humans finally ducked into the building just before the LAV flew overhead.
“No way to know if that thing saw us,” Irons said. He turned to Haddron. “This place secure?”
“We have yet to investigate further.”
“Then let’s see what the Cat’s brought home?”
The Nordics looked at each other, neither of them sure of Irons’s meaning. They both understood it as a metaphor of sorts but its purpose was a mystery.
The interior of the building was sparse as the group made their way, cautiously, through the entry hallway. The walls and ceiling of the building were made from the same metal as the ground outside. Few seams lined the connected sections of wall and ceiling, as if everything were all one piece. There were no signs or indicators of where to go. Just the hallway and an opening in the wall several yards ahead.
The closer they got, the more they could hear the familiar voices of the Ka’traxis Brood warriors on the inside. None of them could tell what was being said, only that transmissions were coming in and out. Haddron darted to the other side of the opening and held his finger to his mouth. The others halted their advancement. The Nordic peeked inside and spied two Catters, their backs to the doorway, seated at a control console. Haddron raised two fingers, letting the others know the number of enemy inside before he stepped inside, knife drawn.
The sounds that came from the room were wet and bubbly. There were no hisses of protest or even agony. Without even seeing Haddron’s strikes, the others knew it was over before the Catters were even aware they were under attack.
Irons stepped into the room just in time to see Haddron shove the last Catter out of its seat. Hannah rushed in and barely acknowledged the dead enemies. She had seen enough dead Catters at this point that two more barely fazed her. It was the live ones that she was leery of.
“Watch the door,” Irons ordered.
Jammin and Durham volunteered, and both of them silently stood just outside the room, ready for any surprises that might occur.
“Can you get a signal to the Slagschip?” Haddron asked.
Hannah didn’t bother answering. She let her skills and her fingers do the talking. They input commands and opened menus on the screen with a speed even Haddron was impressed by. It was hard to tell if she knew what she was doing or if it was all random luck.
Finally, she stopped at a particular option. The language was in Catter but the decimal point between two numbers indicated a transmission frequency to her. “I just need to know the frequency of the Slagschip.”
Haddron smiled. “My last transmission was at zero-seven-nine point zero-one-four.”
Hannah dialed the numbers down to zero then manually scanned up till she arrived at what she assumed was the correct number. “ I can only guess but units are the same no matter the language.”
“Put it out,” Irons told her.
Hannah leaned in to the receiver. “Lucky Liberty. This is Specialist Hannah Xuyen. Do you copy? Over?”
They waited for a reply. Digital static was all they received.
Hannah tried again. The result was the same.
“The boost to all of the Lucky Liberty’s systems was so high,” Hannah said. “The radio must have been affected the same way.” She looked at Haddron for an answer.
“We are simply farther away than originally thought.”
“So what now?” Jammin asked.
“We have to boost the signal,” Hannah said.
“Can you do it from here?” Irons asked.
“Negative, Captain. It has to be done from the tower.”
Irons turned to Durham and Jammin. “You feel like a t
rip to the roof?”
“Aye, sir.”
“There should be a communicator up there. Something closed circuit. Once you’re there, call down and I’ll guide you through it,” Hannah told Durham.
“Right.” Durham turned to walk deeper into the building.
“Jammin.” Haddron motioned for him to join the human.
The big Nordic nodded and left the doorway.
“Keep trying to get something out there,” Irons ordered.
Hannah nodded her head.
* * *
The communications building was not large. One hallway connected the comms center and a smaller room with a ladder.
A hatch flew open and clanged against the roof while Durham poked his head out, gun at the ready. He swept the area and found nothing, before finishing his climb up.
Jammin quickly made his way up as well and the two looked out at the weaponized cityscape. They could make out LAVs flying around well in the distance. The smaller ships were far enough way to be of little concern but it wouldn’t take them long to make their way there if the pilots received a sudden order or if they just got a wild hair.
Jammin took a moment to admire the beauty of his planet below. They were close enough to see light of the fires caused from the attack. He grimaced, knowing the fires were not his people enjoying the warmth. The tanks that flew around the planet looked like dashed lines forming a thick belt around Erra.
“We’ll free my planet, won’t we?” It was the first time the larger Nordic had doubts.
“I aim to do better,” Durham said. “I plan to kill every last one of them.”
Jammin turned to the human. “I think I was wrong about you. Your Captain, too.”
“You wouldn’t be the first.” Durham turned to the tower. “Let’s get to it.”
Both of them approached the tower and, reaching the foot of it, stopped and stared at it. Neither of them knew what to do. Durham finally found the call box and opened it. The receiver inside was much like an Earth vessels.
“I guess some designs are universal.” He reached for the radio when a rushing sound stopped him.
Both of them turned to see an LAV streaking right for them.
“We’re out of time,” Jammin said.
“Only if it sees us.”
The Catter vessel slowed down, lowering itself right in line with the roof. Jammin and Durham could see the pilot inside. Its yellow iris surrounded the vertical slit of a pupil. They watched as it yelled something and pointed right at them.
Jammin swallowed hard. “I think it sees us.”
Twenty-Five
The First Shot
Durham brought up his Catter rifle and aimed dead at the pilot of the LAV staring them down. He pulled the trigger, sending a kill shot square between the eyes of the Catter in the ship. The fired projectile hit the window and bounced off.
“Not powerful enough,” Jammin said.
Both of them could see the Catter’s sinister smile. They knew it had them dead in its sights. The unlikely allies both glanced at the still open roof hatch, planning to make a run for it.
Durham was the first to lurch forward but Jammin grabbed his shoulder.
“Wait.”
“That thing’ll shred us if we stay here.”
“Then why hasn’t it?”
“What?” Durham glanced back at the LAV. Jammin was right. There were plenty of times to fire on them. It could have done so before it even stopped at the roof.
Jammin looked over his shoulder. “It won’t shoot because of that.” He pointed at the radio tower.
Durham took one more shot at the LAV. The bullet bounced off its hull then ricocheted off the metal roof, launching out into the open sky. The Catter inside smiled again then looked off to its left, outside the cockpit window.
Jammin rushed to the edge of the building to spot two ground based vehicles heading their way. The vehicles were rectangular with a blade affixed to both driver and passenger sides. Their fronts had bumpers fitted with blocks in a square pattern. The front windshield was made of a metallic mesh of some sort. They were very utilitarian vehicles. And while the Catters may have not placed much emphasis on design, their formidability was without doubt. Jammin was happy to be well above them.
The Nordic rushed back to the tower. “Reinforcements!”
“There’s more of them?”
Jammin grabbed the radio in the callbox. “What’s next and make it quick.”
“What’s wrong?” Hannah asked.
“There’s more Ka’traxis outside the door.”
* * *
“More?” Irons asked.
Haddron ran for the room entrance and looked down the hallway toward the front door. It was already opening. “Captain!”
Irons rushed to the Nordic just as two Catters stepped inside, snarling. Irons held up his arm and fired at the first attacker, knocking it back into two more as they entered the room.
“Get that thing working, Xuyen!” Irons yelled. “We’ll hold’em off!”
“Aye, Captain!” Hannah scanned over the schematics for the tower. Just as before, she didn’t understand the language but the images were similar to an Earth communication system. “There should be a box just at the base of the tower. Do you see it?” Silence. “Jammin? Durham?”
* * *
Jammin ducked the swinging fist of a large Catter then rose, uppercutting the attacker. The Nordic was just strong enough to make the Ka’traxis Brood warrior stagger backwards, nearly colliding with another.
Durham fired two well-placed shots into two more as they climbed over the roof. “How many are there?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Jammin drew his blade.
“Durham?” Hannah asked through the callbox. “Come in.”
Private Durham backed up, firing another round at an approaching Catter as it moved in on him. The shot buried itself in the alien’s shoulder. It went deep enough to cause pain but not enough to stop it. Suddenly a blade sang through the air, stopping only when it stabbed into the same Catter’s neck. The alien dropped to the floor and Durham glanced at Jammin who only nodded before drawing his other blade and pressing his assault.
Durham fired off two rounds at the Catters nearest to Jammin. “Now we’re even.” He tossed his gun to the Nordic. “Cover me.”
The two met back at the base of the tower and Durham crouched down at the calbox. “I’m here. We’re taking heavy fire.”
“So are we,” Hannah said.
“What’s next?”
* * *
Haddron teleported into the middle of four Catters. The two in front were too focused on Irons and did not even know of the blade at their backs till it already severed their spinal cords.
Before they could even hit the ground, Haddron had already slashed the throats of the next two.
“Fall back!” Irons yelled.
Haddron raced back to the Captain’s side and took a defensive stance. They both waited while more Catters tried to squeeze into the hallway. Their size in the cramped space limited their movements just like in the corridor of the Lucky Liberty. And with five of them already dead on the floor, their ability to reach Irons and Haddron was heavily stunted. Unfortunately the same cramped space made it hard for Irons to fire a shot with Haddron in the way.
He took down two more, further blocking the path. “How much longer, Hannah?”
“It’s hard without being up there, sir,” she replied. “Do you see a tube of some sort, Durham? It should go from that readout to the bottom of—”
“I see it,” Durham said.
The sounds of weapons fire from both inside the building and through the radio made it hard for her to concentrate. “You need to…Um—”
“Come on, Hannah!” Durham yelled.
“Pull the bottom part of the tube out then open the read out.”
* * *
Durham did as instructed and found the tube was full of the same kind of metal rods the Wormhole Activators
had.
“Pull the two in the middle and stick them into the slots just inside the readout,” Hannah said.
“What two? There’s five of them,” Durham told her.
A loud hiss caught his attention and he turned around to see the gun being knocked out of Jammin’s hands just before the Nordic was kicked in the gut.
Jammin toppled forward. A leg came around at him but Jammin recovered and grabbed it, slamming his fist down onto the attacker’s knee. The Nordic’s strength was formidable enough, especially during a life or death battle, that his strike bent the Ka’traxis Brood warrior’s leg backwards. The Catter shrieked and dropped its leg. Jammin tackled it to the ground and rammed his fist into its face, crushing its nose before he rolled forward off the downed alien. He was met by two more of the aliens.
“Dammit.” Durham launched to his feet and raced to assist.
“It’s the two from the one on the right,” Hannah said. “Durham? Durham?”
The Earth Fleet soldier leapt into the air and kicked the nearest Catter as it was bringing its blade down on an unsuspecting Jammin. Durham wasn’t strong enough to knock the Catter down but his hit was enough to make the alien lose its balance and stumble to the edge of the roof. The Earth Fleet soldier finished the job by crashing into the unstable enemy, making it finally fall over the edge.
Jammin stuck his blade through the chin of the second Catter then immediately moved onto the next.
More continued to climb the walls. Their claws raked against the metal surface of the roof like hundreds of nails on a chalkboard. One Nordic and one human against a small army of Ka’traxis Brood warriors. And one gun between them.
“We gotta get that radio working,” Durham said as he kicked a Catter off the roof before it could get completely up. He rushed to the gun and dropped to his knees, sliding across the metal surface. He scooped up the gun and spun around, firing off three rounds, all kill shots. Up until that moment, Taylor Lee Durham had yet to truly show his proficiency with a rifle. The Private rose to his feet and killed two more Catters, dropping them to the ground below.
ROYAL LINE (War In The Void Book 3) Page 17