He lay his rifle aside and drew his pistol. The pistol was a little faster to aim in extremis, and he expected this fight to be extreme. There were six hostiles to neutralise, and he needed to do it before they raised the alarm. Also, he needed the bridge intact. He couldn’t emerge spraying fire in all directions. He would have to rely upon Snapshot for targeting.
Vipers were programmed with perfect recall in an effort to make them better killers by making target acquisition at a glance instant and perfect. The routines in his programming were complicated and numerous. Together they were called Snapshot and could not be turned off. The moment he emerged, he should be able to acquire all six targets, but he couldn’t kill them all with one shot. There would be time for them to respond. They might try to run, or hide, or fight back, and he wasn’t wearing armour. The risk of return fire was part of the job and he didn’t let it concern him. The one thing he feared was the alarm being raised, and if he was seriously unlucky, they might lock him out of the controls.
Computer: Melee mode.
The world seemed to slow as the hatch slid aside. It didn’t of course. He had sped up. He pushed himself out of the hatch already turning toward the comm shack. He had chosen it as his first priority to prevent word of his attack leaving the ship. His pistol swung toward the crewman even as he straightened to full height. His targeting reticule found the man’s head and spun. It only had time to pulse once before his finger twitched. A three round burst splashed blood and brains over the bulkhead but did no damage to the ship. He had set his pistol to 50% power, more than enough even at much higher ranges than this.
He glared around the bridge acquiring targets as cries of shock erupted. Men and women dove for cover or went for their weapons. His reticule picked them all out storing their positions, and he began servicing targets. He fired at the captain, or the officer currently in charge of the deck. He was sitting in the captain’s chair at least. Before the man completed rising Eric’s three rounds took him in the upper chest blasting him back into the couch.
Impact!
Eric staggered as damage assessments flickered onto his display. Right side over the ribs. He reprioritised his targeting to take out the gunner. It was the damage control officer, and he had a pistol out. Before Eric could take him out, another round punched into him. Left shoulder this time, minimal damage but plenty of blood soaked his uniform and trickled down his arm. He dove aside, rolled to his feet, and killed his attacker with two trigger pulls. The helmsman reached for a control. Eric killed him, but the hand landed and alarms wailed.
Goddamnit!
The last man dove into the elevator but died before the doors closed. Eric turned examining the bodies. A groan from one man, another trigger pull, and it was over. The alarm continued wailing.
Computer: combat mode.
The world sped up to normal and data flooded his display, some flashing for attention. Priorities. IMS, absent his input, swung into action and began making repairs. He ignored it all reaching to drag the dead helmsman off his consol. He shut off the alarm, and headed for the elevator. He needed to block it. He didn’t want to permanently disable or damage it.
The simplest answer occurred to him and he dragged the body halfway back onto the bridge so that the doors couldn’t close. That done he headed for the comm shack to call Gina in.
* * *
21 ~ Call to Arms
Alpha site, Landing, Kushiel
“Gina,” Eric said giving her a start. “I’ve taken the bridge. I’m using the ship’s comm shack so don’t try to respond. You haven’t got the range. I need you to saddle up and help with the assault. There were a lot more raiders than I thought. I’m estimating forty plus and at least half of them are outside. I need you to take care of business out there while I deal with those in the ship. Coordinates follow...”
She started in surprise. Coordinates meant the ship was grounded. She hurriedly collected the ammo she had brought to the OP with her, and headed back to tell Liz of the change in plans.
“...Penleigh out.”
Gina didn’t bother entering the coordinates into her wristcomp. Her processor had the data, and with a coded thought she added the location to the map of Kushiel they had been gradually compiling. The location surprised her, though she didn’t know why it should when she thought about it. The raiders were here to steal. Why shouldn’t they do that in the capital? The ship was on the ground within the city itself. She was going to visit Haverington again it seemed.
She headed for the shuttle and called Liz via helmet comm. “Liz, we have a change in plans. Eric needs my help.”
“Is he okay?”
“Seemed to be. He says there are more raiders than he thought. He needs me to go to him.”
“Go. We’ll be fine.”
She bit her lip. “I’m sorry to leave you uncovered this way.”
“Just be careful. Eric wouldn’t ask for help if he didn’t badly need it. I know him. He must be greatly outnumbered.”
Liz was right. Gina didn’t know him as well or as long as Liz, but she knew him well enough to know he didn’t panic. That he had taken the bridge and called her before clearing the rest of the ship spoke volumes.
“I’ll be careful. Keep everyone out of sight and listen on comm for me. I’ll be as quick as I can. Fuentez out.”
Gina quickly boarded the shuttle and went through her pre-flight checks already thinking ahead to the fight. She didn’t know what she would find in Haverington. She knew the raiders had armed shuttles and their ship on the ground. Worst case scenario would have those shuttles in the air patrolling the area. That would be bad. Not only would she have to land and hike into the city from a long way out, but she would have to deal with possible air attack. Ideally the shuttles would be on the ground and the raiders too busy with their pilfering to launch quickly. She suspected the truth would be somewhere in between. Either way, she needed to choose her landing site carefully.
She flew the shuttle to Haverington with her eyes glued to her shuttle’s sensors. She didn’t fear being detected by the raiders on the ground, and with Eric in control of their ship’s bridge, she was safe from that too, but the shuttles were another matter. They would have the same or similar range to her cargo shuttle, but being smaller they would be faster and more manoeuvrable. She had no intention of fighting in the air and hugged the terrain to minimise detection.
She landed in the outskirts of the city.
She would have loved to use her APC not only to drive closer, but also in battle. The twin barrelled pulser on the roof could have done serious damage to any target especially those shuttles, but she couldn’t drive and fire the weapon. APCs typically carried a minimum of three crew—driver, gunner, and navigator/comm specialist—plus the platoon of vipers it carried as cargo. On her own, all she would succeed in doing was provide the enemy with a nice mobile target to practice on.
She disembarked from the shuttle carrying her rifle and pack. Her pack was stuffed with extra ammo including grenades, and her rifle was fully loaded. As was her custom, she had chosen to load her grenade launcher with all HE rounds. The P100 could take a maximum of ten. She had loaded it to capacity and had enough loose extras to load it fully twice more. She strongly doubted she would need so much firepower, but it was better to have too much than not enough.
She slogged through the snow carrying the pack in her left hand, and her rifle slung across her chest. She couldn’t wear the pack on her back as designed because her PLSS was there. She kept her right hand free for her pistol. It was holstered over her environmental suit, and it felt wrong, but there was no choice if she wanted to use it. When she needed to fight, she would discard her glove for access to her weapon’s bus, and wondered if perhaps there might be a way to design a glove that would allow the connection while maintaining suit integrity. The gloves she sometimes used in combat had an open window in the right palm, but that wouldn’t work with her suit.
Hmmm.
With sen
sors at max trawling for hostiles and their emissions, she spent her time imagining a suit mod that would work. If she came up with an answer, she would submit it to General Burgton with her report. He was always looking for ways to improve the regiment and its gear.
The snow was deep in places. It forced her to keep to the centre of the streets. That wasn’t where she instinctively wanted to be, especially when the sun was up and the sky clear. The weather was fine, the day a balmy -25° and should the enemy be looking her way she would stand out like a beacon. She wanted to hug the buildings for cover but couldn’t. Snow drifts had mounded high and deep there. She jogged up the middle, but was ready to take cover.
Her sensors reported in when she came within range and TacNet updated itself. She found a side street with less snow built up, and used it to take a break. She crouched behind the crumbling wall of a fallen building, brought TacNet up on her display and interrogated sensors. She drilled down into the data, and began making notes on the map to make it easy to recall information at a glance. She really did love TacNet, and knew her old friends in the marines would be envious.
It was obvious right away that Eric had been discovered. A large group of hostiles marked in red now on her map were attempting to gain entry to the ship. He must have locked it down and sealed the cargo bays and airlocks. Another group, smaller but still numerous, was doing something in one of the buildings. Salvage operations maybe? Were they that confident of regaining the ship? It confused her because if she had been them, she would have had all hands attacking Eric. Maybe they felt the crew inside could deal with him. Good luck with that! Eric was a lethal SOB, all vipers were, but they probably didn’t know what he was. She watched both groups for a minute or so, noting a few strays wandering between the groups. She had no idea what they were meant to be doing, but she was glad to see both shuttles grounded and seemingly of no immediate interest to anyone. The strays were going to be a problem, she realised. Not because they were inherently more dangerous, but because they had bugger all to do and might notice her arrival. Still, there weren’t many of them. She could probably avoid detection as long as she watched them and took measures to evade them.
“Eric? I’m in position,” Gina said over viper comm. “I’m ready to get the party started.”
“Bit busy here,” Eric relied. Gina heard his pistol and the sound of return fire in the background. “I need you in here sooner rather than later.”
“Okay, hold on. Fuentez out.”
“Hurry.”
The urgency and stress in his voice made her pulse speed. She had never heard that in his voice before. He must be seriously hard pressed in there, and that changed things for her. The slow careful approach she preferred was out of the question now. She needed to smash the opposition outside the ship, access an airlock, and relieve Eric before something happened she would regret.
She moved out again.
Her preference would have been clearing the outside before entering the ship, but now she was in a race against time. She decided to ignore the hostiles in the building if they would let her and engage those trying to enter the ship. No doubt the strays would attack as soon as they saw her. If they did she would deal, if they didn’t, she would deal with them later, after she rescued Eric.
She entered the open area that the raiders had used for their landing site. She realised it was a plaza or square. It was lined on all sides with buildings, but it was a big one. The shuttles were to one side, the ship was in the centre, but there was plenty of open space left. Too much. It seemed as if she had oceans of empty space to cross, and she felt naked as she did so. She pulled off her glove ignoring the cold and the warnings on her display as contaminants entered the suit. Her PLSS kicked into high gear trying to adjust and compensate for her suit’s loss of integrity.
She charged toward the ship, her legs pumping. She brought her rifle around and selected her grenade launcher. She skidded to a stop on the ice dropping her pack and pumped grenades toward the ship. She sent all ten arcing high. They came down amidst the raiders and detonated throwing bodies and pieces of bodies high in the air. Shrapnel pinged and clanged off the ship’s hull, but caused no damage. Ships were far too tough.
Movement.
She spun to her right going to one knee. Her targeting reticule locked on, spun redly and she fired. The raider was blasted back. She ducked away as return fire flooded in from other locations in the square including the ship. Her grenades had killed most of the raiders there, but not all. She grabbed her pack and sprinted toward the ship, firing short controlled bursts one handed toward the survivors. One died, and another. The third one tried to scramble away from her as she arrived. She butt-stroked him and he went down.
Incoming fire toward her strengthened as some of the group in the building emerged. She kept low and tried the airlock controls. They were locked down as she had guessed earlier. She was about to try a code that Eric might have used, but had to throw herself flat as the raiders saturated the air with pulser fire. It was getting bloody dangerous out here! She returned fire forcing them to go to ground, and took a chance. She entered the regiment’s motto, but the code was refused.
“Code, Eric, dammit,” she snarled. “What’s the override code?”
“Alpha-three-niner-niner-Charlie-one”
Gina entered the code keeping down and reaching high to stab the keys above her head. She flinched when more pulser fire splashed against the ship as the airlock door shot open. She hurled herself inside and closed the hatch breathing a little hard with adrenaline rush. She liked excitement as much as the next girl, but that had been a little too exciting.
She reloaded her rifle and grenade launcher, though she had no intention of using grenades within the ship. They needed it to get home. Only then did she open the inner door.
She threw herself prone as a crewman hosed the airlock with railgun fire. It was only a handheld, not an AAR, but the hail of slugs it threw was more than enough to shred her into blood and screams. There was only the one man, but he laid down a barrage fit for a squad. She rolled out of the open hatch, keeping him targeted, and fire one round. He collapsed holding his belly screaming at the pain. Pulser burns hurt like a bastard. She knew from experience. Her second round put him out of his misery.
Gina stood and advanced toward the body where it sprawled at the junction. TacNet had already reached out to the only other viper unit in range, Eric, and linked up with him to share data. She had the latest tacsit in a small window on her display as a result. She knew where he was, engineering level 2, and his situation, dire. What the bloody hell was he doing in engineering? The last she knew he had been in control of the bridge and in a good situation to hold it. Why take on so many when he knew she was on the way? She didn’t know, but the answer was with Eric.
“Let’s go ask him,” she muttered.
She considered removing her suit but decided against taking the time. Eric had sounded desperate but she didn’t really know why. He was a viper. A dozen armed raiders might give him a decent fight, but they shouldn’t be beyond him if he was careful.
She called the elevator, stepped over the body, and entered the car.
The ride took only a few moments. She slung her rifle and drew her pistol. She held it aimed and ready as the doors opened letting her out on engineering level 1. She had chosen the level above Eric because there were raiders using it to pin him. She targeted those she saw upon entering engineering. She gave each of them a three round burst in the back. Two men fell off the catwalk to thud solidly on the deck of level 2. The third sighed and slumped against the rail.
She ducked back into the car as the remaining raiders targeted her, but then edged carefully back out and to the right when they reloaded. She kept low and crept along the catwalk, trying for a better position. She could probably kill some of them with grenades, but she didn’t want to risk the ship. They were already taking a chance shooting up the place as it was. Hit the wrong thing in here and the drive c
ould either be damaged beyond use, or worse, it could lose field containment entirely and cause a sun to be born and die on the surface of the planet. She looked down over the safety rail and found Eric below her, using one of those important and sensitive bits of equipment as cover.
“What the hell, Eric? Stop playing with them.”
“I’m nearly out of ammo!” Eric snarled back on viper comm, sounding pissed off at the accusation. “If you’d moved your arse like I told you, I wouldn’t be sitting here like a target.”
Aha! That explained a few things. “Look up. I have a present for you. Catch!”
She dropped her pack down to him, and ducked back as railgun slugs reached for her life pinging and ricocheting of the rail and bulkhead. She fired back giving Eric cover while he reloaded. She knew the moment to move had come when he went all Zelda on the raider’s arses, and laid down a barrage to make Fleet proud. She surged to her feet and leapt the safety railing. Her pistol barked twice as she fell. Two targets were blasted back before she landed. The raiders turned their attention to her, and Eric rushed them. She joined him and the fight ended with her emptying her pistol on full auto into the space between two consoles shredding the enemy hiding there.
Eric stood among the bodies targeting them one after the other and putting a single shot into each of their heads. Gina watched. It had to be done, but his emotionless face disturbed her. It was one of the things she didn’t like about him. Her thoughts flashed back to the elevator shaft and remembered finding him hanging from his rope zoned out with something... odd, something not Eric looking out at the world using his eyes.
She shivered.
“You done?” she asked a little harshly. She cleared her throat. “I didn’t clear the ground before coming aboard. You sounded a bit harried.”
Eric snorted. “How many left?”
Merkiaari Wars: 03 - Operation Oracle Page 32