Victors

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Victors Page 11

by T. R. Cameron


  Chapter Eighteen

  “Here we go,” Kate announced over the shipwide channel. She hit the buttons that would eject them from the gravity wave and deposit them in the sector the Phoebe had identified as the Xroeshyn repair area.

  For a moment, upon reversion, it was like a perfect painting. Six enemy vessels hung in space, four of them cruisers and one an engineering tender, according to the information Pandora streamed across her display. The remaining ship was their target.

  The carrier hung there like a monolith, much larger than their own version.

  “That’s a big ship,” said Claire Martin over the channel connecting the Phoebe and the Pandora.

  “It sure is,” Kate said. “Let’s get to it.”

  While she’d been woolgathering, Diaz had been designating targets. She launched a full spread of missiles, with at least a few targeted upon each of the ships in the sector. The Phoebe matched her. Kate thought she saw a slight wobble in the visual display when the active communication interference began, and moments later Claire confirmed, “Jamming is up. We’re as certain as we can be that it’s working properly.”

  “Affirmative.” With gentle strokes on her controls, Kate guided the Pandora to her position at the bow of the carrier.

  “Hi there, birdies, how are you?” she whispered, then sent bolts of energy to beat on the ship’s forward shields. She continued to fire torpedoes at the other alien vessels, which were just starting to react to their presence.

  “Keep sharp on the shields,” Kate commanded.

  “Aye,” replied Diaz. A glittering trail of projectiles reached out to destroy an inbound torpedo and verified he was in control of the situation.

  A countdown on her display reached zero, and she looked up expectantly. She was rewarded with the sight of a tunnel opening to discharge the Washington, the Los Angeles, and the Nara into the sector.

  The admirals and the Marines had gone back and forth on the issue and had finally come to an agreement that this was the smallest number of ships that could still pull the mission off. Admiral Silva had insisted privately to Kate and Claire if the situation became dire, they were to flee so the precious Domeki vessels wouldn’t be lost. They spoke words of agreement in order to placate their superiors.

  Kate thought the whole episode was illustrative of how little the admiralty understood her. Abandon her people? Not this day. Not any day.

  The Washington curved to the starboard side of the enemy carrier and attacked the shields from that angle. The Los Angeles, another cruiser similar in size to the DC but a generation newer, engaged the engineering tender and quickly destroyed the under-armed and under-armored support ship. The Nara, an AAN carrier, deployed its fighters immediately, then turned its attention to the Xroeshyn cruisers.

  The Phoebe positioned herself high to starboard of the enemy carrier at an angle that would allow her to best protect the human ships. A target designator popped up on her screen, and she launched a full broadside at it. Kate had already fired her weapons at it, and the targeted cruiser was forced to break off its attack run and flee from the missiles trailing it.

  The lack of mobility hurt the human forces as the other three enemy cruisers used the Xroeshyn carrier as a shield to protect their runs against the Nara. A coordinated barrage by the trio left the carrier limping, the shields along one side buckled, the armor damaged, and atmosphere venting from several pierced compartments.

  “All fighters are deployed,” announced Captain Hatake. “We could use a little cover, though.”

  The Los Angeles repositioned from supporting the Washington to assist the Nara.

  Right into an enemy trap.

  The three cruisers broke off their next run against the Nara as soon as the smaller ship entered range. They battered it with energy weapons and followed with torpedoes to finish a strike that almost brought the UAL cruiser down.

  The honor of the kill was given to the Xroeshyn carrier, which unleashed a full broadside against the Los Angeles. More than a dozen missiles made it through the human ships’ countermeasures, and it took only the first to deplete her shields. The ship split apart in all directions. One final torpedo, now targetless, passed through the space where the Los Angeles had been, unhindered and wandered toward empty space.

  Kate looked down at her board with a growl, contemplating for a moment blowing up both the plan and the carrier in front of her. She lifted her head to regard the main display and saw the carrier’s engine output increase and its thrusters engage. “Oh no you don’t,” she said, and moved the Pandora in parallel to its efforts, blocking the ship from escaping the sector without going through her first.

  The assault plan had been well thought out, but it rested on the unacknowledged assumption the Xroeshyn defenders would engage those attacking the carrier. Instead, they chose to attack the AAN carrier.

  The Phoebe raced to the defense of the Nara, interposing herself between him and the attacking ships, and absorbed the damage from the cruisers’ lasers, plasma cannons, and torpedoes. She rolled to present unweakened defenses as the barrage reduced the power on her port surface.

  “I could probably do this all day if not for the carrier,” Claire said, “but I’m sure that as soon as my shields are vulnerable, the big guns will join the fight.”

  Kate watched the trio come about again for another attack run on either the cruiser or the Phoebe. “Pandora, are the Xroeshyn ships far enough from the carrier that we can engage?” Even if they couldn’t see the enemies, the Pandora’s sensors could certainly target them and guide torpedoes past the obstruction.

  “No, Commander. They’re staying close. While we could engage them, any large explosions might damage the vessel which is our purpose for being here.”

  “Dammit,” Kate said, just as the Xroeshyn carrier’s starboard shields failed.

  Cross’s shout of victory was loud in her earpiece. The Washington ejected one of the special torpedoes, which flew into the hangar and disappeared. After several breathless seconds, Cross reported, “Direct hit. None of the fighters are getting out on that side.”

  “Too bad we can’t say the same about the other side,” replied Captain Hatake. Kate swept her gaze to the other half of the battle, where human fighters defended the Nara against their Xroeshyn counterparts. The tiny ships were focused on their one-on-one battles, but every now and again a missile would fly out to strike at the Nara.

  “We’re on our way,” Cross said, and the human ships repositioned according to plan. The Washington dove under the carrier and emerged on the far side with a flurry of cannon fire causing one of the trio to break off. The old ship took up a position opposite the port hangar and attacked those shields. Her other broadside launched at Xroeshyn forces whenever they drew near, and beams of destruction lashed out, chasing the enemy fighters that darted through the battle. Kate didn’t need to hear it to know that Walsh was growling and swearing under his breath with each miss, and murmuring taunts at his foe, just like always.

  The life where she was part of the Washington’s crew seemed far away indeed.

  The carrier tried to escape again, and again Kate interposed the Pandora. The Domeki armor made the threat real, as the large vessel could easily survive ramming most human ships without crippling itself.

  “Jannik thinks the cruiser could be more damaged than we expected, and that’s why they aren’t defending it like we thought they would,” Cross said. Kate shook her head. Leave it to the Washington to be concerned about such things in the middle of a running space battle.

  “Maybe your Marines can give us a report on that, Captain,” she replied in a tone that suggested, but wasn’t quite, mockery.

  “I’ll ask them now. Although, since they haven’t launched yet, I’m not sure they’ll have much new to add. Still, I wouldn’t want to reject your excellent idea out of hand,” he replied. Kate shook her head again. Cross was one-of-a-kind.

  The detonation of the Nara was a shock to them all. The sens
ors suggested he was still safe, with shields at least half strength everywhere. However, a momentary failure, or an equipment misalignment from the battering he’d taken, or some other unknown vulnerability must have occurred, because an enemy missile snuck through unimpeded and exploded against the side of an engine. As the explosion ripped through the chamber, it destroyed the failsafes that should’ve shut the engine down. Instead, it slipped into an uncontrolled reaction that unbalanced the ship and sent flame and thrust on unanticipated vectors. It took only a second for the other engine to implode, and the combined destruction and imbalance tore the Nara apart along its length. The stresses caused everything that could explode to do so, and shrapnel flew into the atmosphere like fireworks from the doomed carrier.

  One of the Xroeshyn cruisers was in between the two cruisers, and the barrage of tiny pieces of the Nara snuck through its already weakened shields to eliminate it. Its detonation added to the destructive debris flying toward the enemy carrier.

  Some of the shrapnel found the carrier and assisted in dropping the port shield. But a large portion of the remains of the Nara and the enemy cruiser hit the Washington. With her defenses primarily focused against the carrier, the explosion buckled her shields. The shrapnel’s kinetic and thermal energy penetrated her hull in a multitude of tiny strikes.

  Kate heard alarms and shouting, then Cross growled the results, “We’re no longer airtight, and we’ve had casualties. Port broadside is off-line, probably something ripped through the power conduit or the control cables. Jannik says we’ll be all right for now.” The Phoebe moved into position to protect the Washington’s damaged side and kept up her assault on the pair of Xroeshyn cruisers that remained. She fired a flight of missiles around the Washington, and they brought the carrier’s port shield, which had just re-solidified, down again. Cross launched his last web torpedoes and reported success.

  He added “Marine flights one and two, you are clear to launch. If you can’t take the enemy ship, our fighters will be stranded here if any reinforcements show. So, no pressure, but get it done.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Copy that,” said Sinner. “Marine Flight One on the way.”

  The pilot appropriately took her comment as a command, and the light-absorbing black cylinder left the Washington under thruster power, followed by Saint’s team in Marine Flight Two.

  The shuttles were on loan from a Marine transport ship for the operation. They were usually outfitted for atmospheric flight, but in their current mode would find any interaction with the atmosphere extremely unpleasant. The aerodynamic nosecone had been removed to reveal the breaching module that lay behind it. From the outside, the shuttle looked like a short black cigar.

  The interior was designed with assault in mind. The pilot’s compartment was in the rear of the vehicle to avoid interference with charging Marines. There were no chairs in the troop section, and the shuttle was not much taller than the power-suited warriors that rode inside it. Grapnels secured their armor to several hardpoints to keep them in place during transit. In a window on her heads-up display, Sinner watched the feed from the Washington, which showed her ride nearing the enemy carrier. They were close enough now that if the shields reactivated, they wouldn’t endanger her people.

  “Grapnels,” she commanded. Ten powerful magnets, arranged in a large circle and attached with newsteel cables, were propelled toward the other ship. They closed the gap in an instant and secured themselves to the metal of the carrier. “Take us in,” she ordered, and high-torque motors in the shuttle winched them closer.

  “Make a hole,” she said, and a ring of thick filaments extended to touch the skin of the enemy ship. The breaching device operated like sustained plasmacord, burning at a ludicrous temperature across its surface until whatever it was in contact with yielded. In no time, a circular section of the hull fell away, and the cutter retracted.

  “Release clamps,” was the next command, and it freed the Marines to move. “Pop the hatch,” resulted in the four-section door at the front of the shuttle folding back upon itself to open in the least amount of space required. Finally, it was time. “Deploy and secure perimeter,” she said with an inward sigh of pleasure at the start of real action, and her team charged in with Jeffrey “Surfer” Baker and Charlotte “Char” Alard leading the way a step ahead of her.

  The rocket-assisted jump from shuttle to ship was one she’d done countless times before in both training and combat, but it was always accompanied by the thrill of fear: fear this would be the time the other ship pulled away and the shuttle was blown to bits behind her, leaving her spinning untethered in space until her air ran out. It was many Marines’ worst nightmare, and she crushed the queasiness it inspired down where it belonged. Her boots hit the deck, and she took a deep breath and cleared the area for those following.

  She checked the map in her display and saw their best guess at the path to the ship’s control center overlaid upon it. “Head right, toward the bow. All our data suggests they keep their bridge somewhere near where we keep ours.”

  A clanking and beeping caused her to turn and see that Gideon “GeeWhiz” Wilkinson had released two rolling sentry bots to guard the entrance to the shuttle. She gave him a nod and waved him forward, then pointed to Hugo “Huge” Galano and Leslie “Dish” Isher and signaled that they’d be rearguard. She said, “Deuce, you’re with me,” and Diego Seco stepped up beside her.

  Pieces of the ship filled in on the map as their sensors reached out and cataloged more of the vessel. It resolved to show a blind corner ahead, and she called, “Halt, cover.”

  Her Marines moved to the walls and took up overwatch positions, their weapons pointing in all available directions.

  “Surfer, send a one of our spheres to see what’s around the corner.” An eye-movement pattern released a small orb from a storage compartment on his calf, and it spun in place for a moment to orient itself. The metal ball rolled forward and sent audio, video, and sensor data to all the Marines’ displays. The birds were waiting for them. Four enemy soldiers knelt behind improvised blockades — what looked like tables turned on their sides — and aimed their rifles over the top.

  That wouldn’t have been a problem. The fact that they appeared to be in powered battle armor was.

  “This just got a lot more difficult,” Sinner observed. “Let’s be optimistic for a moment and assume they’ve deployed defenses but don’t know exactly where we are. We need to take these folks as quickly and quietly as possible.” Professional silence greeted her words, and she nodded.

  “Go,” she said, and four of her people ran, slid, jumped, and dove into the corridor, their sound-suppressed rifles spitting destruction the instant they cleared the corner.

  Two of the aliens fell victim to coordinated head shots. The other pair managed to spray defensive fire for a short while before the rest of the Marines could get into the fight and eliminate them.

  “You call that quiet?”

  “You said as quiet as possible, Gunnery Sergeant,” replied Surfer. “Did you want me to go sing them a lullaby?”

  With laughter came a lessening of stress, and she was glad for it. It was a nice counterpoint to the growing feeling that the op was on the wrong track right from the start.

  “Sinner, ready for us?” Saint’s tone was all business.

  “Negative,” she said, drawing the word out as she thought about it. “We’re facing more resistance than expected. Let me get more info.”

  “Affirmative. Time is a factor, Sin.”

  “Shut up, Saint,” she answered. Her display revealed a side room that opened toward the center of the ship, and she ordered half her team into it, leaving the rest on overwatch in the hallway. “All right,” GeeWhiz said, “computer interface.” From a utility compartment at his waist, he pulled out a small disc and set it against the unit.

  “Is that—”

  “One of the many sub-Pandoras, yes, Gunnery Sergeant. It should get us access to the data we
need much faster than I could.”

  She nodded and opened a private channel with him. “Good initiative, but next time, check with me first.”

  “Yes, Gunnery Sergeant,” the chastised voice responded.

  “Or I’ll be forced to kick your ass off the ship, and frankly, I think we’re going to need you.”

  He laughed, and she reconnected the comm to all of her Marines. “The magic technology is doing its work. Onward.”

  After a minute of stealthy advance, a long corridor before them ended at a closed bulkhead door. The local version of Pandora informed them beyond it was a room without sensing equipment of any kind, so she could tell them nothing about it. They crept warily forward, and Char ran a minimal distance sensor scan of the portal. “It’s reading as locked.”

  “Of course, it is,” answered Sinner. “They don’t want to be too obvious about it. Char, plasmacord the door. Be ready to retreat. Surfer, if it opens, and there are enemies shooting at us, you step forward and trigger your shield.” Her people affirmed her orders, and she returned to quietly hating the situation. The room couldn’t be a better chokepoint if it had been designed to be one, so given their luck it probably had been designed to be one. Which meant, at the very least, there were troops on the other side.

  “Fire in the hole,” Char said, and scuttled away from it. Surfer took a few steps back out of respect for the wicked cutting tool.

  The door burned and fell into the room with a shattering clang. As expected, enemy soldiers waited within. What was unexpected was the mounted projectile weapon facing down the corridor. “Shield,” Sinner shouted, followed by, “Retreat.” She activated her own shield as she backpedaled. The scene seemed to move in slow motion as the multi-barreled weapon fired. She heard the involuntary grunts as Surfer was forced backward from the impacts against his armor. Then he toppled, and the rounds peppered the rest of the squad. She fired the emergency grapnel mounted on the outside of her right forearm and got lucky for the first time in the mission as it latched onto her downed Marine. Soon, they were back around the corner, and the incoming fire died down.

 

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