His boots crunched on the ground as he raced towards the bunker, Salazar stepping out of it, followed by a gray-haired old man and a group of Neander. Clasping his friend's hand with a smile, he turned to see the rest of the platoon marching out of the shuttles.
“Lance-Sergeant Hunt,” he said, turning to the veteran he'd promoted on the flight down, “Get the men into a defensive perimeter, and get over here with Corporals Walpis and Stewart.”
“Yes, sir,” Hunt replied, pointing over to the right. “Vehicle coming, sir.”
“That's Lostok,” the old man said. “I'm Technical Sergeant Alexander Perry.” Gesturing to his left, he said, “Kelot and Molpa, Section Leaders.”
“Ensign Gabriel Cooper, commander of Alamo's Espatier Force.”
“Espatiers?” Perry asked. “I thought you were Marines?”
“We are. Long story.”
“It's a pleasure to meet you, Ensign,” Molpa said, reaching to shake his head as a ball of flame raced up to the sky behind him, another bunker destroyed. As the vehicle skidded onto the launch pad, Nelyubov climbed out of the lead shuttle, tugging his cold-weather jacket around him, shaking his head.
“What's the situation?” he asked, jogging over to the cluster of officers, Walpis behind him. The sight of a Neander wearing Triplanetary uniform caused a babble of conversation to erupt from the erstwhile slaves, and Kelot stepped towards him, saying something in a language Cooper had never heard before. From the expression on his face, neither had Walpis.
“I'm sorry, I don't understand,” Walpis replied. “Do you speak English?”
Shaking his head, Kelot said, “You don't speak Interlang?”
“Never heard of it.”
Turning to Cooper, he said, “Then there are still Neander on Earth? Perry never said...”
“No,” Cooper replied. “Corporal Walpis was born on a world named Thule, and joined the Triplanetary Fleet when the world became a Protectorate a few months ago, after a long career in the local military.”
“Protectorate?” Kelot's face darkened. “You conquered one of our worlds?” He turned to the approaching Lostok, but before he could say anything, Walpis grabbed him by the shoulder, shaking his head.
“The Battlecruiser Alamo liberated my people, Kelot. We had been conquered, and were in danger of being annexed by the not-men, before they arrived.”
Nelyubov nodded, and added, “We are not an empire, but a collection of free planets that have chosen to work together for our mutual survival. As you might have noticed, it's a hostile universe out there.”
“I'm proud to wear this uniform,” Walpis added, “and I suggest you refrain from disparaging it in future.”
“Indeed,” Lostok replied, looking around, “That much is obvious. Kelot, these people are here to help us, and have gone to some considerable risk to do so. I think the least we can provide is a measure of courtesy, if nothing else.”
“We're here to fight a battle,” Cooper said, bluntly. “Where do you need us?”
Nodding, the Neander leader replied, “The enemy forces have pulled back from their inner defensive perimeter, and we managed to liberate most of the habitation domes in a surprise assault, as well as destroying their security headquarters.” Looking around, he said, “I think we're going to be able to secure the landing pads, but their command center is another story.”
With a smile, Cooper said, “Just point us in the right direction.”
Shaking his head, Lostok replied, “It's underground, with a well-fortified entrance over by Agridome One. The guards haven't moved an inch since the battle started, protecting their commanders. Based on our knowledge of their tactical doctrine, they're equipped for a long siege, with the plan to co ordinate local resistance and wait for the counterattack.” Nodding, he said, “We can't allow it to remain intact. There are tunnels and passages leading from that hell-hole to half the domes on the base, and we've only got a very partial map.”
“Internal layout?” Nelyubov asked.
“No one who has ever gone in has come out to tell us,” Kelot replied. “Among other things, it holds their interrogation chambers.”
Nodding, Cooper said, “Hunt, you take First Squad, at least, what there is of it, and support surface operations. Place yourself with Lostok. Walpis, we're going into that bunker with Second and Third.”
“Yes, sir,” Walpis replied with a smile.
“I'm coming as well,” Kelot said, “As well as a troop of my men. You're going to need the reinforcements, and besides, we have a personal stake in the destruction of that compound. Too much of our blood has been spilled there in the past.”
“That isn't necessary, Section Leader,” Lostok said.
“I think it is,” the Neander replied.
“If you've got a spare rifle,” Salazar said, “I'll come along as well.”
Perry nodded, but Lostok shook his head before the old man could volunteer, saying, “No, old friend. You've done more than enough this day, and you'll be needed to work with your friends from the Confederation. Having lived for thirty years in this nightmare, I will not see you die on the day of your liberation, not when you have done so much to bring it about.”
“But...”
Placing his arm around his shoulder, Nelyubov said, “Sergeant, I need to debrief you anyway. Ensign Cooper knows his job.”
“It'll be fine, Sergeant,” Salazar added. “Come on, Gabe.”
“Move out, Second Squad!” Cooper said. “Pavel, you stick with Corporal Stewart and Third. Take a different route, just in case.”
“On the way,” Salazar replied, catching a plasma rifle from the air, tossed to him from the shuttle, and clipping it to his power pack. The troopers raced across the landing strip, Kelot shouting the occasional order to guide them to their destination, as they picked their way around the smoking remains of wrecked shuttles, and the bodies scattered across the field, Xandari and Neander both, debris of the still-raging battle.
A light patter began to drop on Cooper's shoulders, and he realized it was snowing, a sensation so unfamiliar that he almost stopped in surprise. Every world was a new wonder, even if this one was tinged with horror. He felt something grasping at his feet, and looked down at a dying Neander, his hands reaching up to him as the last breath shuddered from his body.
“He's dead, Ensign,” Kelot said. “We'll worry about him later!” He pointed towards a low structure in the distance, sitting beside a green dome, a portal that seemed to rise out of the ground. A dozen soldiers surrounded it, emplacements positioned to resist an assault, and though he couldn't see any plasma weapons in evidence, there was enough lethal hardware to give him plenty of pause.
Glancing around, he raced to the left, heading for a row of crates that would provide some sort of cover, Walpis and the rest of the Espatiers following him while Kelot and his men continued to charge right for the bunker, as though determined to die in this field. Cooper cursed, knowing that they would be in the middle of the killing ground in a matter of seconds, and redoubled his pace as the machine guns began their deadly clatter, the rattle of bullets racing across the field to lance into the flesh of their enemies.
Flakes of ice and plasticrete flew up from the ground around him as he skidded into cover, slamming into the crates with his shoulder, sending the top one toppling, cracking on the concrete, the contents spilling out all around, filling the air with the smell of fish.
Lining up his plasma rifle, he checked the charge cycle, making a few tweaks as he sited his shot, trying not to think about the Neander who would be dead in seconds if he missed. Calmly, he squeezed the trigger, sending a ball of green flame dancing across the field, smashing into the front of the fortifications, the screams of the not-men filling the air in the final seconds of their life. Shaking his head, he rose to his feet, waving for his men to come on, as a second bolt flew by his si
de, crashing into the ground, unnecessary duplication of death.
For the first time, Kelot and his men paused, looking across at Cooper as though they were struggling to believe the power of the weapons he was using. Their hesitation only lasted for a few seconds, and they continued their fearless advance, the Espatiers struggling to keep pace with the desperate men ahead.
Jumping over the shattered ruins of the fortifications, trying to ignore the smell of burning flesh all around, Cooper moved over to the armored door, that Kelot and his people had already attempted to break down. He took a look at the control panel and shook his head. Even if he'd been able to hack the enemy systems, the heat had wrecked the device, sealing them in, potentially permanently.
“Damn it,” he said. “That's what they wanted us to do.”
“You should have been more careful with that death ray,” one of Kelot's men said.
Shaking his head, Walpis replied, “If you hadn't decided to launch a suicide charge, we could have taken our time about it.”
“We'll have to do this the hard way,” Cooper said. “Everyone stand back, well clear. When this goes up, it's going to be big.” Turning to the Neander, he added, “I mean it, Kelot. Pull back beyond the perimeter and keep your damned heads down. You'll know when the time comes to move, but on no account will you or any of your men so much as twitch until I give the command.”
“Or what?” Kelot asked, a sneer on his face.
“Or you and all of your men will be killed by the shock wave when we blow this door. Ever seen ten plasma balls hitting in unison?”
McBride whistled, replying, “Sir, that's….”
“I know, Private.” He glanced around, spotting Salazar and Third Squad piecing they way through the flames. Lance-Corporal Tokarova had acquired a wounded arm at some point, and Specialist Reeves was trying to urge her to stop so that he could examine her.
“Sorry about the delay,” Stewart said. “We got held up.”
Shaking his head, Kelot said, “While you were wasting time...”
“There are thirty Xandari reinforcements who aren't going to be bothering us now, Kelot,” Salazar said. “Which we took out at the price of one walking wounded.” He looked around at the devastation surrounding the bunker, and said, “Looks like you've been busy, Gabe.”
“Pull back, and set your rifles for maximum charge,” Cooper said, pulling a marker out of a pocket and slamming it onto the still-warm doors. “Use computer aim, and network your firing computers. I want this entirely on automatic.” The troopers rushed to obey his order as he looked at the marker again, making sure he had positioned it correctly, before running back to join his men, lying down on the snow, quickly digging in to provide him with some protection. As the others did likewise, he lined up his rifle, switching it over to the combined network, and after a quick check to make sure that his troopers were in cover, and that Kelot and his men were obeying his instructions, he started the countdown.
As the last second ticked away, he closed his eyes, hearing the roar of eleven plasma rifles firing as one, feeling the intense wave of heat fly across the ice, steam rising in huge columns into the sky that for a heartbeat obscured the explosion, a rumbling roar that echoed through the air, sending fragments of concrete and metal raining down around them, cries of pain from some of the Neander who had failed to take sufficient cover.
Rising to his feet, he looked at the still rising column of smoke and steam, the crater where the bunker had once been, scattered debris and red-hot metal. For a few seconds, silence reigned across the battlefield, every combatant pausing to behold the destruction, before returning to their deadly game.
“Anyone hurt?” he asked, and with a chorus of negative replies, cautiously stepped forward, weaving a path around the shattered remnants, Walpis and Salazar following. Kelot belatedly rose to his feet, stepping unheedingly towards the ruin.
“My apologies, Ensign,” the Neander said. “I thought you were being overcautious.”
“I'd always wondered what would happen if we tried that,” he said. A smoke-laden shaft spiraled down into the gloom, a spider's web of molten metal underneath that he kicked free with his boot, a scream from underground as the red-hot embers dropped on some unfortunate not-man. Kelot peered down, then over to Cooper.
“What now, Ensign?” he asked.
“Sir,” Akjes said, “I'm getting power build-up, right underneath us. Growing rapidly.”
Looking sharply at Salazar, Cooper yelled, “Run! Now!” and started to sprint for the horizon, his men instantly reacting to follow him, Kelot pausing for a critical second before obeying the order. He slipped and scrambled on the freezing surface as he struggled to gain ground, instinctively knowing what the not-men would do. Surrender was anathema to them, but with their surface defenses destroyed, there was no way they could win this battle. It might be expensive, but they'd take over the control center in a matter of moments.
“Still building!” Akjes said, holding his datapad in his hand, almost stumbling over a fuel pipe.
“Keep running!” Cooper said, panting for breath, some of the slower members of the platoon falling behind. There was no cover he could trust, no way of knowing how wide an area was about to be affected. Safety lay in speed. Risking a quick glance behind him, he saw the Neander starting to catch up, their tardiness countered by their greater familiarity with the terrain, the gravity. Kelot was in the lead, flashing him a confused stare.
“What's happening?” he asked, but before Cooper could reply, a roar bellowed from underground, a second, titanic explosion tearing through the plasticrete surface of the landing pad, ripping through the material, scattering chunks of debris and shuttles around as though they were toys. Attempting to keep his feet was hopeless, and he tumbled to the ground, rolling on his back to see the column of smoke and flame leaping into the air as the very earth began to subside, forming a huge crater, dozens of meters across.
He panted for breath as the noise began to subside, glancing around to try and take stock of his men. If he'd reacted a second slower, if he'd failed to move in time, they'd have died with the not-men.
“Akjes,” he yelled.
“Here, sir,” the Neander said through gasps of breath, slightly ahead of him.
“Consider that promotion to Lance-Corporal confirmed. I'll do the paperwork when we get back.”
“Thanks, sir,” he replied, shaking his head. “Never a dull moment!”
“Pavel, you alive?”
“No,” Salazar said, struggling to sit up, shaking the dust from his uniform, an angry cut across his forehead trickling blood. “You throw a hell of a party, Kelot.”
The Neander rose to his feet, his eyes wide as he beheld the scene unfolding before him. All around, the noise of battle was ebbing, as though the destruction of the command center had resulted in a mutual agreement that the fight was ended. Cooper could make out figures racing across the snow, off in the distance, too far away to work out which side they were on.
His communicator beeped, and he raised it to his ear, saying, “Cooper here.”
“Nelyubov here, Ensign. You might be interested to know that they picked up that explosion on Alamo. What the hell happened?”
“The not-men decided to destroy the command center rather than let it fall into our hands. I guess there must have been something down there they didn't want us to know.”
“Damn,” Nelyubov said. “Well, the intelligence boys will be disappointed, but at least it looks like everything is coming to an end now. The surviving not-men,” he paused, then said, “Xandari, apparently, are heading for the hills, and I don't think there's much we can do to stop them for the moment. Your men?”
He looked around, watching his platoon slowly rising to their feet, most of them festooned with scratches and bruises from the battle, Tokarova's arm hanging lifelessly by her side.
&nbs
p; “One wounded, sir, but everyone else seems fine.” Taking a deep breath, he added, “I'm not sure about Kelot's troop, though.”
“Well, once you get yourselves together, make your way back to the shuttle. Looks like we won this one, Cooper. Good work.”
“Thank you, sir.” Shaking his head, he said, “Tactical deployment, people, and keep your weapons hot. Everyone else might be willing to declare victory, but there are still not-men wandering around out here.”
As his platoon slowly assembled, Cooper turned back to the crater, the crackling of a hundred fires still filling the air with smoke. Kelot was still watching it, holding his rifle, as though expecting the ghosts of the not-men to launch an attack.
“You coming?” he asked, tapping the Neander on the shoulder.
“What?”
“They want us back at the shuttle.”
Nodding, he said, “In a minute. Five years I've looked at that bunker and longed for this moment. I think I've earned the right to savor it.”
“Kelot, it's over. Bar the shouting, anyway.”
“You're wrong, Ensign. It's never over. Not while one of those bastards breathes.”
Chapter 7
Orlova looked around the hangar bay, her assembled officers lined up beside her, wearing hastily-donned dress uniforms for the occasion. Fortunately, this section of the ship hadn't been damaged in the attack, but the chaos and confusion on the deck almost made it appear as though it had, technicians and engineers milling around, Chief Kowalski yelling orders at the deck gang, trying to spur them to greater speed.
She looked down the ranks of her officers, frowning at the gaps. Quinn had begged off, citing a repair schedule that would have made the shipyards at Mariner Station despair, and Kibaki was attempting to restore some sort of order to the sections that had been damaged in the attack. Duquesne was still working on the wounded, and had yet to provide any report more coherent than a string of obscenities, but it appeared that she was going to pull off her usual miracle. All seventeen of the wounded were expected to survive, though at least a couple of them would almost certainly face medical discharges when Alamo got home.
Battlecruiser Alamo: Forbidden Seas Page 6