He stared at his enemy for long moments, trying to feel something that wasn’t hatred. His fists clenched and it seemed to him like this battleship had become his unwanted nemesis.
Aston appeared at his side. “There’s got to be a way, sir.” She pointed at the other screens. “Tactical.” She leaned closer to another screen. “Another feed here - seems to be aimed directly at the surface of Oldis.”
The final screen was also running a sensor feed and inexplicably it was targeted at a distant planet. A text overlay indicated it was 120 million kilometres away, which he assumed meant it was planet nine in the Exim-K system. He struggled to recall the name.
Tanril.
Recker had plenty to be getting on with, but he felt an enormous curiosity.
“Lieutenant Burner, when you get a chance, find out why this feed is looking at Tanril.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Oh crap, see this on the tactical?” said Aston.
Recker gave it his attention. The annihilator was represented by a solid red circle and the cylinder was green. A second red circle – much smaller than the battleship – had appeared.
“They launched another shuttle,” he said.
The course overlay indicated the vessel was heading for the upper part of the cylinder.
“What are they doing?” said Eastwood.
The answer came to Recker. “That particle beam opening is fifty meters across and goes all the way through the armour,” he said. “Shit – the Daklan could fly a shuttle straight through it and deploy their troops on the level below.”
“I’m trying to get a sensor lock, sir,” said Burner. “This alien hardware is slowing me down.”
Recker didn’t need the sensors to confirm it - the tactical screen gave him all the information he required. The Daklan didn’t like the resistance they’d found below, so they were taking a different approach.
He accessed the squad channel.
“Sergeant Vance, I’ve got some bad news for you.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Vance took the change of circumstance in his stride. “We’ll fall back to the next level up, sir, and try to hurt those alien assholes when they deploy. If that fails, we’ll withdraw to your level.” He took an audible breath. “Are we fighting for something other than pride, sir? It’ll give the squad motivation if they know you’ve got a trick up your sleeve.”
“We’re bringing things together here, Sergeant. If this cylinder is a weapon, we’ll figure out the way to use it.”
It wasn’t much of a reassurance, but Vance didn’t complain. “I’ll let the squad know, sir.”
Recker checked to make sure his crew knew what was happening. To his memory, only Aston had any significant experience of ground combat, while Burner and Eastwood simply accepted the reality and continued what they were doing.
“I’ve found out why there’s an array locked on Tanril,” said Burner. “This cylinder performed something called a core override on one of the warships attacking it.”
“Core override?” said Recker. “Is that the name for cylinder’s main weapon?”
“I don’t know, sir.”
A sudden thought prompted Recker to check the audit logs for the tactical. He located what he thought was the right entry.
Core override success. Target destruction unconfirmed.
He ground his teeth in frustration. The tenixite converter held countless secrets and he wished for the time to unearth them all. Unfortunately, the Daklan were after those same secrets and Recker had no intention of making it easy for them. He was sure this cylinder had destructive capabilities and he didn’t want the enemy figuring out how to turn this as-yet unrevealed firepower on the HPA.
“We’ve fallen back to the level below,” said Vance.
“What about the Daklan on the first shuttle?”
“Private Enfield left them a gift, sir. I don’t imagine it’ll hold them up for long.”
A glance at the tactical told Recker that the second shuttle was stationary, not far from the cylinder. He didn’t know what was keeping them – maybe the entrance hole was obstructed.
“The enemy are stalled outside, Sergeant. I don’t know if that’s a permanent situation for them.”
A rumbling boom came though the comms link and Vance unleashed a stream of obscenities.
“Sergeant, please report!” shouted Recker.
When Vance answered, he was clearly running full pelt. “We found out the reason they stopped, sir. It was to send a missile into the opening.”
“Casualties?”
“Private Joiner was lookout, sir. He was standing right where the missile landed.”
It was another death on Recker’s watch. “Withdraw from that level, Sergeant. If the shuttle fired a missile, there’s nothing stopping the annihilator doing the same and the payload from one of those will be enough to incinerate everyone in the room.”
In truth, Recker didn’t think the battleship would send a plasma missile into the cylinder, but then again, he hadn’t anticipated the shuttle firing one of its standard explosives inside either. The Daklan must know a lot more about these tenixite converters than he did and they might be happy to destroy some of the less important hardware in order to flush out the HPA troops.
Or maybe they’re so scared we’ll find something that they’ll take drastic action to prevent it.
“What’s this, sir?” said Aston, indicating a readout on one of the screens.
“Core override: charging,” said Recker. “What the hell?”
A moment later, the text changed.
“Core override: discharge successful.”
Recker didn’t understand what had happened but realised he should do his best to find out damn soon. The tactical screen provided him with a partial answer.
“That shuttle’s gone into freefall,” he said.
Sure enough, the smallest dot on the tactical was plummeting towards the ground.
“Got a sensor lock,” said Burner.
The feed was near perfect and on it, Recker watched the boxy Daklan shuttle fall. It plummeted out of the viewing arc of the locked sensor, only for a different array to take over in time for him to see the enemy ship crunch into the ground. The Daklan built everything to last and the shuttle’s armour plating buckled only slightly.
Recker waited to see what would happen, both with the transport and – more importantly – the battleship.
“The shuttle isn’t moving,” said Burner. “And these sensors can read propulsion output. That ship is stone, cold dead.”
“The cylinder’s got automated defences,” said Aston. “I wonder if the crew on the annihilator know about them.”
“If they didn’t before, they do now,” said Recker. He watched and waited – the danger hadn’t passed yet. After another few seconds, he let out his pent-up breath. “They’re holding fire,” he said. “This cylinder is too valuable to them and now they’ve got that core override to worry about.”
“Why the hell didn’t the converter on Etrol do the same to the Finality?” asked Eastwood. “We hit it with plenty of missiles.”
“I don’t know, Lieutenant. It’s looking increasingly likely there was a malfunction on that one.”
“Good thing for us.”
“I’ve discovered how to link these alien comms with the units in our suits,” said Burner a moment later. “I’ll take over communications with Sergeant Vance.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant. I’d appreciate that.” Recker looked towards the doorway – the squad should be arriving soon, though he couldn’t blame them for being cautious after the Daklan missile.
Burner soon confirmed the same. “Sergeant Vance held the withdrawal until he was sure the explosives had stopped. He’s bringing the squad up here now and reports that the Daklan aren’t pissing about - those from the first shuttle are pushing to the level below us.”
“Any idea of the numbers?”
“Shitloads.”
I
t was a nontechnical term that conveyed the situation almost as well as a precise figure. The Daklan were coming and the scent of blood would only make them press harder. Recker lowered his gaze to the console once more.
The tenixite converter promised many things, yet so far, the only demonstration had been in the form of the core override discharge. It left Recker feeling like he was holding a treasure map that might well lead to unimagined wealth or may be nothing other than a lie to tempt the desperate.
Recker wasn’t sure what made him look up from his screen. On the curved outer wall, a door opened, fifty metres offset left to where he was standing. The conscious, thinking part of his brain was partway through forming the conclusion that Sergeant Vance or one of the soldiers had discovered a new way to this level.
The unconscious part of his brain – the part that operated on an instinct fine-tuned by his years in the military – already had him reaching for the gauss rifle propped upright against the front face of the console.
Recker pulled the gun’s stock into his shoulder, just as the figure of a Daklan soldier appeared in the doorway. The aliens were hulking bastards and the wide shoulders of this one’s grey combat suit, combined with the angular chest plate, exaggerated the effect, making it seem like a giant carrying a five-foot thick-barrelled gauss cannon.
It didn’t matter that the Daklan were big, strong and mean - bullets killed them fine. Recker pulled the trigger on his rifle once, twice, three times. Daklan combat armour wasn’t proof against the HPA’s gauss rifles and each shot produced an expanding patch of vivid red. The alien fell back through the doorway, where movement indicated the presence of others.
“Get down!” Recker snapped at his crew. He got onto the squad channel. “Sergeant Vance, we’ve been flanked – numbers unknown. I need immediate backup.”
As he spoke, Recker watched and waited to see if the Daklan would reveal enough for him to shoot. None appeared and he fired twice more into the doorway - the enemy were staying out of sight, but he might catch one out with a lucky ricochet.
“Our withdrawal is under pressure here, sir,” said Vance. He swore. “We’re on our way.”
Recker didn’t mention that it was impossible to continue working on the consoles while under fire and he was sure that Vance understood the urgency. The situation on the converter was becoming impossible - the Daklan must know they were only facing a small opposing force and that would make them bold.
The aliens were tough opponents and Recker didn’t want to present them with an easy target. He crouched far enough that he could see over the top of his console. Unfortunately, this cut down his visual arc, making it possible for the enemy to crawl into the room and take cover behind the secondary consoles. Recker wasn’t carrying grenades, but he was sure the Daklan troops would have explosives.
“This isn’t a good situation,” Aston observed. She was also in a half-crouch and every few seconds she rose in order to watch out for the Daklan coming in low.
“If they get into cover, we’re screwed,” said Recker.
He straightened in time to see movement. A second Daklan surged through the doorway. The aliens weren’t any faster than a human, though their size made them appear superficially clumsy. This Daklan was ready and it snapped off a shot with its hand cannon, the slug cracking against alloy somewhere close by. Recker was just as fast and his aim was better. He tracked the sprinting enemy soldier, pulling the trigger three times. The Daklan crashed out of sight behind a console and Recker heard its rifle skittering across the floor.
“Incoming,” said Aston, her own rifle whining as it discharged on automatic.
Another two Daklan sprinted from the doorway immediately after the first, firing as they ran. The enemy met a hail of slugs from the other members of Recker’s crew and they were thrown to the ground, blood spraying from their wounds.
A glint in the darkness of the doorway made Recker crouch, just as a fifth Daklan soldier fired. The shots cracked against hard surfaces nearby and others struck the inner wall a short distance behind Recker and his crew. These slugs were intended to keep the defenders low so that other Daklan could advance to cover, and he knew it was vital to keep the enemy at bay for as long as possible.
Taking a chance that the enemy were firing blind, Recker looked over the top of his console. He heard a scraping he recognized as coming from a gun being pushed across the floor and spotted a shape passing across the gap between two of the outer consoles. Recker shot quickly, before ducking once more, guessing he’d scored a nonfatal hit.
The gunfire from the doorway didn’t let up and Recker knew that the enemy were getting a foothold in the room. He stood higher again and was immediately driven into a crouch by the bullets clattering off the far edge of his console. Recker answered by firing his own rifle blind at the doorway.
Nearby, Aston crouched, her expression determined and without fear. Eastwood and Burner were left and right respectively, each staying low and partially hidden from Recker’s sight by the curve of their consoles.
“How far can a Daklan throw a grenade?” Aston asked with a grim smile.
It was a question Recker had already asked himself. “They could side-arm one from that doorway easily enough.”
He looked over the top of his console again. The enemy weren’t visible, but he fired a volley of shots into the opening.
“Will they risk explosives, sir? Or will they be worried about destroying the hardware?”
“They’ll use stun grenades if they’ve been ordered to keep this place intact.”
Recker stood higher, just as a Daklan rose from behind a console near the doorway. The alien soldier had its arm drawn back like it was about to throw and he shot it three times in the chest, killing it and making it fall out of sight.
A moment later, the stun grenade it had been holding detonated with a flash and a thunderous crack of expanding air. Recker was ready for it and he averted his eyes, while the coating on his visor darkened automatically. The sound was loud, but he was far enough away that it didn’t even set his ears ringing.
The moment the light faded, he was up again, firing into the doorway, hoping the flash of their own stun grenade had caught the enemy soldiers unawares. He dropped low again and checked the readout on his gun.
“Reloading,” he said.
A magnetic field held the rifle’s square magazine in place. When Recker flicked a tiny switch - which was an easy thumb reach from the trigger point - the magnetic field was cancelled, allowing him to slide out the almost empty magazine. He let it drop to the floor and slotted in a full one he took from his leg pocket.
The magazine change only took five seconds, but during that time, the incoming enemy fire became far more intense and Recker guessed the Daklan had run out of patience. A second grenade went off on the far side of the console and this time the burst of light left afterimages on his retinas, while the sound produced a pain in his ears. Luckily, his suit helmet was designed to limit the debilitating effects of flash grenades and Recker experienced no deafness and his balance felt fine.
“Sergeant Vance, what’s your progress?” he asked. “We’re pinned down with no easy way to get out of the firing line.”
“Nearly with you, sir.”
Recker crawled sideways to the edge of his console and looked along the aisle. The arrangement of the consoles interfered with his line of sight, preventing him from seeing all the way to the door. A grey shape darted between two consoles and Recker’s shot came too late. He spotted a second Daklan and this time he got a bullet into its leg.
Anticipating another grenade, Recker half-stood. He and his crew were within throwing range, but the Daklan would have to be standing to make the distance. Recker’s timing was good and he shot an enemy soldier as it was rising from a crouch. The alien was much closer than he was expecting – within twenty metres – and Recker knew that time was running out.
As he lowered himself into a crouch again, he spotted other grey shapes
moving swiftly from the doorway and coming in his direction. Once again, Recker lifted his rifle and sprayed bullets in the enemy’s general direction. Two more stun grenades went off, one of them right on top of the adjacent console.
“Argh, shit,” said Burner, dropping his weapon and pressing his hands to the sides of his helmet.
“Get up, Lieutenant!” yelled Recker, trying to ignore the pain in his own ears. He fired another dozen slugs into the room, knowing it was no use. The Daklan were ruthless and they didn’t like a stalemate.
Sergeant Vance and the rest of the squad arrived through the far doorway and Recker heard the clink-clink-clink discharge of Private Gantry’s MG-12 repeater, the sound muffled by the temporary damage to his eardrums.
Recker wasn’t a man to keep his head down while others did the dirty work. When he judged the moment was right, he put his head over the top edge of his console. Vance and his soldiers were to the right, advancing along the aisles.
“Grenade out!” yelled Drawl.
The man was scrawny as hell, but he had a tremendous throw and he arced a grenade about sixty metres across the room. Drawl wasn’t throwing the nonlethal stuff and his plasma grenade detonated in the aisle between two consoles, producing a white-hot blast and a thumping expansion of air. Drawl sent over a second grenade and then a third.
Two more stun grenades went off, closer this time to Vance and his squad so that Recker avoided the worst of the effects. Several Daklan charged through the doorway to his left, trying to tip the balance back their way. The position of Recker and his crew meant that the aliens were under fire from two directions and they went down before they’d made it more than half a dozen paces.
The gunfire continued for another minute or two and then it died off. Sergeant Vance ordered the squad to guard their initial entry point and he ordered Private Enfield to do what he could to seal off the other doors into this level. The soldier had charges in his pack that could weld metal shut as well as blow it open and he got on with the job.
“We’re holding back the tide, sir,” said Vance.
War from a Distant Sun (Savage Stars Book 1) Page 20