Bio-Weapon ds-2

by Vaughn Heppner

  “Open the gun-locker and pass out ordnance.” She threw the key to the Tracking Officer, who snatched it out of the air and turned smartly toward the locker beside the outer door. Then Admiral Sioux slumped in her chair. It was two thousand or so against seventy-odd enemy. They should easily win. She wondered then why she felt so gloomy about the future.

  16.

  “Let’s take a breather,” Marten said. “Vip, Wernher, stand guard at either end of the corridor. Everyone else, re-supply yourselves.”

  “They’re hot on us,” said Lance.

  “We’ve got thirty seconds, the way I time it,” Marten said. They were in a wide corridor, a service ramp. Whenever the beamship entered space-dock, vehicles would use this ramp to bring in heavy equipment and supplies.

  Marten knelt an armored knee, reached back and unclipped a laser pack. He powered his heavy laser-tubes with the old pack, pumped the rest of the juice into recycling and then detached the drained pack, slapping the fresh one into place. He rolled ten grenades at his feet and inserted a fresh tube into his launchers. Lastly, he relieved himself, letting his battlesuit take care of wastes, gulped some concentrates and drank a lot of water. While he did that he made two bomb-clutches with the grenades, looked around and rigged one to the pipes overhead, flicking on a motion sensor with a forty-second delay so they could get away. The other clutch he stuck to the corridor wall, timing it to blast in sixty seconds. As Lance had said, the enemy was hot on them.

  “See anything, Vip?”

  “I killed three scouts while you all lounged around. There are a lot of others working up their nerve in the room just behind those three. Most are armed with las-rifles, useless against our armor.”

  “Don’t get cocky, Vip,” warned Lance.

  “I hear you,” Vip said. “And I ain’t.”

  “Is everyone ready?” asked Marten.

  They said they were.

  Marten scanned their surroundings, checked the ship’s blueprint and said, “Through the six o’clock wall. Go, go, go!”

  BLAM, the hole was made and they charged off the service ramp.

  “They coming!” Vip said, who stood guard in the corridor.

  “Go!” Marten said. “Run!”

  “Relax, Maniple Leader,” Vip said. “I’m slaughtering them. None of them have any armor and like I said, all this bunch has is las-rifles.”

  “They’re throwing fodder,” Kang said, “to make you overconfident.”

  “I rigged the corridor to blow,” Marten said. “Retreat, Vip! Do it now!”

  “Roger,” Vip said. “I’m on my way.”

  Marten kept blowing through corridor walls and then using a corridor for a two-hundred-meter stretch. He kept switching methods to keep the enemy off guard and guessing. They entered a large engineering section, with plenty of floor space and big domed generators with panels attached. According to specs, the generators charged the proton beam, or at least they started the process here.

  “This is perfect ambush territory,” said Lance.

  “So perfect that even they would realize it,” Marten said. “Keep going.”

  Nine shock troopers in battlesuits charged past the many domed generators. Their radar pinged and the motion-detectors scanned.

  “Should we booby-trap anything?” asked Lance.

  “Negative,” Marten said. “Let them get mad at themselves for being too cautious. Then they’ll start getting cocky again and that’s then we’ll hit them. That will turn them even extra cautious later on.”

  They exited the huge engineering area. A few stray las-rifle shots hissed near as the boldest SU soldiers entered the generating room.

  “Here’s our spot,” Marten said a minute later. It was an intersection of corridors, one going straight up, with ladders and float rails. “Wernher, set up the cannon and melt a clot when they show themselves.”

  “Roger,” said Wernher. He put a bulky plasma cannon onto its tripod holder and adjusted the settings. An orange light winked, meaning it was charged and ready. It took ten seconds between shots for the cannon to recharge.

  “They might start blowing walls like we do,” Lance said. “Making new ways to move and then surround us.”

  “Our sensors will detect them if they try that,” Marten said. “Then we’ll show them another trick about wall busting.”

  “Here they come,” said Wernher.

  “Wait until the last moment,” Marten said.

  “Hey, I’m the cannon king,” said Wernher. The plasma cannon was slaved to his HUD. He hunched over it, adjusting another setting.

  Then SU fodder leap-frogged into the corridor. They didn’t wear any suits but had screwed up, terrified faces, with breathing masks over their mouths. Those wouldn’t be much help in vacuum, but with all the fumes from the lasers and plasma cannon it wasn’t a bad idea. They fired as they advanced—running, crouching and lifting their las-rifles. Las-bolts hit walls and corridor equipment. Oily smoke billowed. Despite their breathing masks men coughed. They were brave enough, poor sods. They didn’t stand a chance. Several las-bolts glanced off a battlesuit, that because of reflective microcoating. Wernher chuckled over the comlink. With a sizzling sound, the cannon belched an orange glob that boiled into a horrified mass of men. Some melted, showing bones and spilling guts. Others vanished in the superheated plasma charge. For a few of them, there was enough time for a microsecond scream. One man actually tore off his breather. Then an awful odor of death filled the corridor and dark, greasy smoke and fumes. Lance, Vip and Marten glided forward, firing red laser light into the shocked survivors.

  “Advance,” Marten said.

  “What for?” Kang asked. “You said we should go to the engines first.”

  “We’re fighting our way to the proton generating room,” Marten said. “My guess is that right about now their commander has sent his good troops around in order to ambush us. These poor sods were acting too much like they were trying to herd us forward.”

  There was some muttering, but they listened to him.

  So for the next several minutes they advanced according to HB tactics. They blew out walls, ambushed many and lobbed light grenades to blind and then fragmentation grenades to kill. It was murderous work. Over fifty enemy corpses lay burned and blown in the corridors. Then they broke into the generating section using breach bombs. Wernher set the plasma cannon and slaughtered another hundred. Then an enemy grenade caught him at just the wrong angle. A depleted uranium grenade-shard sliced through his helmet and lodged in Wernher’s brain, splattering the inside of the helmet with gore.

  “Another one down,” Marten said. “Conway, take the cannon.”

  “What about Wernher?” asked Lance. “Do we take him too like we did Omi?”

  “Kang, carry him,” Marten said.

  “He’s worthless!” Kang said.

  “He’s full of munitions,” Marten said.

  Kang grunted and picked up the dead shock trooper.

  “We’re taking a different route,” Marten said. “Nine o’clock and through the wall. Go, go, go!”

  17.

  “Security Chief here, Admiral.”

  Admiral Rica Sioux hunched over the armrest. Her confidence had waned as she listened to the combat chatter on the net, to the constant screams of their dying. Her old lined faced betrayed her worry. I have to set an example. Show your confidence. So she sat up, adjusted her cap and straightened her uniform.

  “Things are starting to fall apart,” the Security Chief said.

  “I’ve been listening to your communications net,” said Admiral Sioux. “The enemy is good.”

  “Good? The smaller concentration is a pack of devils, Admiral. They keep retreating, pulling my people farther and farther away from the main group. And they slaughtered… This is butchery, Admiral. Why don’t we have space marines like this?”

  “We did,” said Admiral Sioux. “Now they call themselves the Highborn. I wonder what these marines call themselves?”
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br />   “We’re badly out of position, Admiral. So I’m calling off the chase of the smaller group and throwing everything at the larger one. We’ve had better luck with them.”

  “How can that be?” asked Admiral Sioux. “The larger group is marching straight here and there are over fifty of them left.”

  “That’s true. But we’ve killed more of them, Admiral. Their tactics aren’t so strange and unusual as the smaller group. Whoever’s leading the main concentration—he’s not like the leader of the smaller group, Admiral. That man is uncanny.”

  “Can we stop them? Is there any hope?”

  “If I can get my Security teams back there in time, Admiral, yes. Every time I tried to trap the smaller group, they avoided a stand up fight. I don’t understand that man. But I’m certain that if I can get my best people into position, then we have a change at stopping the bigger group. All they’ve been facing are unarmored men with las-rifles, yet still we’ve taken out about ten to fifteen of them.”

  “Hit the larger group with your Security teams. They’re the real danger anyway. And hurry, Chief.”

  “I’m on my way,” said the Security Chief.

  18.

  The shock troopers led by Marten broke into the main engine control room. It was a vast area crowded with generator domes, comps, consoles and repair vehicles presently secured and locked-down. Engine personnel had been waiting, sprinkled with a handful of Security people. Marten butchered them, although a shock trooper named Gerard died when a main vent blew superheated coolant on him.

  After Marten and Lance shut off the main valve and the others rigged the corridors leaning into the Engine Room, they huddled together by the lifts that lead into the guts of the actual engines, where the Fusion Drive expelled the hot gases that propelled the beamship. There they discussed their next move.

  “We control the engines and from here we can destroy them,” Marten said.

  “How do we do that?” asked Kang.

  “Breach bombs should do it,” Marten said, “but I’m sure once we’ve downloaded the specs we can do it from these control boards.”

  “We’ll give you that for the sake of argument,” said Lance. “My question is: so what?”

  “So now we make our pitch,” Marten said.

  They glanced nervously at one another. They knew about fighting. It’s what they did. But this idea of fleeing to the Jupiter System, that meant bucking the Highborn. They had been re-educated by the HBs more than once. First, to get into the FEC Army each of them had passed through brutal training that had taught them the superiority of the Highborn and that one must always obey members of the Master Race. Then they had fought in the Japan Campaign, a murderous affair where thousands of FEC soldiers had died hideously. There the Highborn had once more shown their superiority, that no one in the end could win against them. In a sense, they hadn’t known anything yet, not compared to shock trooper training. Perhaps the trip here had been rough and many had cursed the Highborn, but to go directly against HB wishes… They knew what happened to those who had tried in the past—they were all dead.

  “Uh, look, Marten,” Vip said uneasily. “Maybe the HBs are already on their way here. We would look pretty silly sipping tea with the enemy. It would mean the pain booth, maybe a lot worse.”

  “All life is a gamble,” Marten said. “We all know that. But what kind of gamble is worth it when nine out of five hundred make it?” He looked around and through their faceplates. They were scared. “Sure this pitch to the enemy is a gamble. But it will get us out of this crazy war. We all survived the Japan Campaign. Now we’ve survived being shot to the Bangladesh. We’re the ones who made it. Omi, Wernher and Gerard made it here too but died anyway. How much more luck do you think the rest of us have left?”

  “Yeah,” agreed Lance. “We’ve all used up our luck. But if the HBs are about to land it’s all moot.”

  “How do you figure they’re about to land?” asked Marten. “They shot us here as a gamble. Now is the moment to take over and run, but we don’t have the numbers to take over. So we gotta deal. Okay, it might be true the HBs are coming. That’s just another part of the percentages. After today, though, I don’t ever want to count on my luck. I’ve used it all up.”

  “Kang?” asked Conway. “You’re officially in charge. What do you think?”

  “The HBs put him in charge,” Vip said. “Marten is the one who got us here. If we’re leaving it doesn’t matter who the HBs selected.”

  “Do what you want,” Kang told them. “But my vote is against it.”

  Marten eyed the others. Most of them looked dubious, but they no longer seemed ready to grab their weapons and stop him. So he found a comlink and opened channels. “This is the leader of the shock troopers speaking,” he said. “I think it’s time the Bangladesh’s Captain and us talked.”

  Nothing happened.

  “It’s no good,” Kang said. “That’s just what I thought would happen.”

  A few of the others shifted nervously.

  Marten pressed the comlink again. “I’ll blow the engines unless you talk. We want to make a deal. So I suggest you don’t be stubborn and kill us all.” The seconds ticked by. Marten felt more nervous now than at any time during the battle. His armpits grew slick and his stomach churned.

  “Listen up,” Kang said.

  Just then, a voice spoke out of the comlink: “What kind of deal?”

  19.

  The command capsule was filled with arguments and loud noise. Finally, Admiral Sioux stood and shouted, “Quiet! I can’t talk to him if I can’t think.”

  That settled down the officers. The First Gunner studied the others—several of them nodded encouragement—then he faced the Admiral and cleared his throat. Admiral Sioux waved him down as she re-opened the comlink.

  “What kind of deal?” she asked.

  “We want to go to the Jupiter System.”

  Several of the officers nodded as if that made perfect sense.

  “At least trick him,” whispered the Tracking Officer.

  “Why do you want to go there?” asked Admiral Sioux.

  “Why else?” said the enemy space marine. “We want to get out of this war.”

  “Just a minute,” said Admiral Sioux. “I have to see what my chief officers think.” She switched his link onto standby and opened the comlink with the Security Chief. “You heard him. What do you think?”

  “See if speaks for all of them,” said the Security Chief. “This bigger group is slaughtering our people, although the lower deck personnel are holding. Some of them are a lot tougher than I thought. If I can get all my Security teams together in one place, with a few of them circled around behind the bigger group, then we might still win. What I need, though, is time.”

  “You’re suggesting we trick them?” asked the Admiral.

  “Yes! Yes!” said the Security Chief. “All war is deception. We didn’t call up the Highborn and tell them we were going to beam their Sun Works Factory did we? Any subterfuge is allowed during war. By all means, trick them.”

  Admiral Sioux reopened channels with Marten. “Do you speak for all of your troops?”

  “Yes,” Marten said. “We’re all agreed to this.”

  “I’ll need a few minutes to talk it over with my officers, to see if they can convince their people.”

  “By all means,” Marten said. “But don’t take too long.”

  Admiral Sioux switched channels to the Security Chief. “He agrees to a temporary truce while I consider it.”

  “Perfect,” said the Security Chief. “I’ll pull back the lower deck personnel and regroup to a better defense position. All I need is about five minutes. Then we’ll have them.”

  Admiral Sioux sat up, gazing at her officers. “It was all a matter of will,” she said. “Despite their training and effectiveness, the enemy’s spirit was lacking. That is why Social Unity will win in the end.”

  Several officers nodded.

  Encouraged, Adm
iral Sioux spoke some more, warming up to her theme. She finally ended with, “Now, we should lock up the weapons.”

  “Your line is blinking,” said the First Gunner.

  “Let the enemy wait,” said Admiral Sioux. “Let his uncertainty unnerve him.”

  “No, the Security Chief is calling.”

  Admiral Sioux saw that he was right and opened channels.

  “It was a trick!” shouted the Security Chief. “I started pulling back the lower deck personnel and they hit us with everything at that exact minute.”

  “But how could they have known what we planned?” shouted Admiral Sioux.

  “They must have tapped our communications.”

  Admiral Sioux slammed on the comlink to the space marine that she’d spoken with. “You lied to us!” she shouted.

  “How have I lied?” He even managed to sound genuinely surprised.

  “The others attacked when you said that you would give us several minutes to think it over,” said Admiral Sioux.

  “What others?” he asked.

  “The others on the A-deck!” she shouted.

  “They are more shock troopers here?” she heard a different man say.

  Admiral Sioux blinked, and then she bowed her head. It hit her then that this smaller group hadn’t known about the larger one. It seemed that the Bangladesh’s jamming was the one thing that had worked. What was that name the man had said: shock troopers?

  “The deal’s off,” said this different man. He sounded brutal, speaking with a slum accent.

  20.

  “Why did you tell her that for?” shouted Marten.

  The shock troopers crowded around the comlink.

  Through his helmet’s faceplate peered Kang’s wide, emotionless face with its almost slit-shut eyes. “You heard her,” Kang said. “Others of us made it aboard the beamship. And I bet HBs are on their way here, almost aboard ship by now.”