“Reroute power to stabilizers and get those shields back up!” Lee shouted above the din of battle. “Keep up the firing solution, they’re almost there.”
Lee leaned forward in his command seat and watched the small holographic display which showed the fighter squadron. They had come to a halt near the asteroid and were waiting. In moments, the wait was rewarded as streams of Falcon fighters, the precursor to the Eagle class the Demons flew, erupted from the base. As the last fighter shot out towards the battleship, the Demons moved into position. Lee took a deep breath and said a pilot’s prayer for his team.
Gregor had trained for zero-gee combat just as most of the former Confederacy soldiers had. He had survived the ordeal in basic training where they were taken to an abandoned space station and left without power, water, or gravity for a week and were expected to fix all the damage and be waiting when the drill sergeant returned. He had excelled at space-combat techniques and earned several medals under his old command. Never, though, in all his training, had he been asked to hold on to the underside of a combat fighter as it weaved through an asteroid field towards the gaping maw of an open hangar deck. That would have to be the high point in his experience, and one he would need to write down and share with others if they survived the operation.
The big man was locked into position by powerful magnetic grapplers attached to his back. The suit smelled of his body odor and stale disinfectant. He tried to look to either side to see his team, but the bulky armored helmet he needed to wear prevented the action. For the moment, he just waited and watched as the stars moved beneath him. A stray plasma bolt occasionally flashed by and he marveled at the exotic beauty of it. That was the extent of his ability to act in the awkward situation he was in.
“Red Team, you are a go for insertion.”
“Acknowledged,” Gregor replied over the comm. “Blue Team, ready for separation.”
Gregor took one last look at the stars below as the ship began to accelerate. The mission would have to go exactly as planned or the stars would be the last thing he saw. He felt the fighter pull on him as they were maneuvered into position. Merlin, the pilot, had volunteered to be the carrier for the team and was considered the most subtle of the pilots, for which Gregor was thankful for as the feeling of falling away intensified. He felt his meager breakfast threaten to come back up and swallowed hard. Throwing up in a helmet was not an experience he ever wanted to repeat.
The grapple held fast as the ship decelerated again and turned nose up. The space doors of the Ixloab base swung into view. The pressure doors were sliding closed after launching their complement of fighters. The doors moved rapidly closer as the Eagle used its momentum to approach.
“Release in ten, leader.”
“Mark,” Gregor replied. “Blue Team release in ten … nine … eight…”
Gregor continued to drone the count. As he reached one, he could feel his heart leap into his chest. The next few seconds were about to get interesting and he needed to be sharp.
“Release!”
The team unlocked the grapples and was flung at the closing space doors. Gregor’s first act was to pull the collapsible plasma weapon from its locked position on his back and check its power system. The chance the grapple had damaged the gun was slim, but he wasn’t about to trust slim chances on this mission. His second task was to aim his ankle-mounted maneuvering thrusters at the approaching door. Their momentum would be carrying them way too fast for a safe insertion if he didn’t slow himself down. A glance at his heads-up showed the rest of the team in formation and activating their maneuvering systems. Distance and depth were almost impossible to judge as they sped towards the narrowing portal, but Gregor was keeping a count as they approached. If the plan was truly on schedule, they had only a few more seconds of space before entering the hangar bay of the Ixloab facility.
Then things would get really interesting.
Alice watched the insertion team drift through the pressure doors just before they closed. She realized that, with the exception of Gregor and Eli Mendel, she really didn’t know any of the people on the team. A year in a Ch’Tauk prison had made so many changes to the make-up of the ship that she couldn’t recognize half the people on board Resolute. In the end, it had been the real reason she had rejoined Demon Squadron. These people had been her friends before her capture, and accepted her even after.
“Demons, package is away,” Jackal’s voice buzzed over the comm. “Attack pattern Gamma-three. We are four to one out here, so choose your targets well and watch your backs.”
A round of acknowledgements over the system told Alice her team was ready. At one point the team had been hers to command. Jackal had stepped in during her absence and made the team even more deadly than before. They were a battle tested squadron and it made Alice feel outclassed. Mentally, she chalked up another score for the Ch’Tauk. Flying had been the one thing she felt she was best at, and they had taken away her pride in that. Watching her own skills in combat used against the Terran fleet had shaken her confidence to the core.
Alice pulled her ship out of the stand she had assumed to shield the insertion team. The attack pattern involved the team spreading wide and doing as much damage as possible before rejoining with a wingman. Because she had assumed Baron’s spot on the team, Alice had Jackal as a wingman for this operation. Inside, she felt relieved to have the woman at her side. She felt if things got too hairy during combat, Jackal could pull her out of the fire.
She pushed the engines up to half and chose her targets. As she felt the Eagle accelerating towards the fight, she said one of Lee’s prayers for luck. Although the Eagles were more than a match for the outdated and vintage Falcons, the battle would not be a total rout. She thumbed the arming switch for the cannons and watched the targets as they came closer.
Things were about to get interesting.
13
Xyphlic Base
Gregor saw the pressure doors close behind him after his team slipped in between. Six members had been chosen for their precision and skill at fighting hand-to-hand. The only wildcard in the bunch was Eli Mendel. Both men were oversized and had a passion for weapons, but Eli seemed unstable. Gregor had protested the addition of the pirate to his team, but the captain had insisted. Still, Gregor had gone to the man and had it out. He didn’t need another alpha male on the team to question his orders. Eli had agreed to follow orders and surprised Gregor by offering him a cup of tea.
As his feet came into contact with the far wall of the hangar deck, Gregor shut down his boot thrusters. He flexed his legs to absorb the impact before turning himself around to face the floor. The exo-skeleton which helped them survive holding on to the fighter vessels, and provided the thrusters, was bulky in gravity wells but made movement in zero-gee almost effortless. He flipped on the magnetic strips built into his own boots and felt his feet hold fast to the wall. He activated the light on his weapon and swung back and forth, sweeping the hangar to find the team.
As they had planned, each member of the team was attached to the wall and facing downward towards the deck. A vibration had begun through the wall. Gregor braced himself as a low whine slowly rose in the bay. He was only a meter above the deck and he could almost reach out and touch the floor with a gloved hand. As the air slowly crept back into the cavernous bay, the emergency klaxon echoed off the floor and into his face. As the whine became louder, Gregor began to feel the floor’s tug, indicating gravity was being restored as well as the atmosphere. As the suit became heavier, Gregor bent over and placed a glove on the deck before him. He could hear now, and glanced over to the nearest suit. He couldn’t make out who it was through the heavy helmet; they were smaller than he was. One boot had come unstuck from the wall and the soldier had fallen over and twisted a leg.
“Release!” Gregor shouted over the suit comm. “Go ahead and fall.”
The suited form paused in the struggle and Gregor saw the leg release. Whoever it was fell to the deck hard, grabbi
ng at a knee which seemed too high on the leg. Gregor held the tips of his fingers to the ground as he released the boot magnets. He pressed off and over, turning a handstand and over, landing on the deck on all fours facing the wall again. As he stood, he looked to his team to find all but the one standing. The smaller form of the injured team member was still on the ground, rocking and holding their damaged knee.
Gregor detached the exo-skeleton from his suit and made his way to the team. As he had thought upon seeing the size of the injured team member, the lone Vadne female was pulling off her helmet and wincing in pain. Gregor put a hand under the woman’s leg and tried to move it. She let out a feline howl of pain as he let go. He could see dark tears forming on the woman’s eyelids even as she tried to appear brave.
“Lieutenant,” Gregor started, “you’ll be in charge of securing transport off this rock. Use the exo-armor and find us a shuttle.”
“Aye, sir,” replied the Vadne woman.
Gregor had harbored misgivings about taking the woman. She had less combat experience than most of his regular team, but was a master with translations. He had reviewed the tapes of the interrogation and decided if the Ixloab had tried to use ancient Tonal, he might need her. Now he was without a language specialist but did not need to keep an eye on the woman during combat.
He looked around at his team. Mendel had taken a dark, short-barreled weapon from his pack and was sweeping the area. Marino, the computer technician, had scouted the nearest airlock door and was standing ready with a scanner to open the portal. His two combat specialists, Lincoln and Yan, were checking weapons and preparing themselves for the raid. Intelligence gained from the prisoners had given them the layout of the base, and Gregor knew the fight ahead would be long. He had orders from the captain as well which told them to refrain from killing as much as possible. The directive seemed shortsighted at the least. The captain’s lack of ground combat experience might prove to be a hazard, but orders were orders.
“Alright, Blue Team,” Gregor said with his thick European accent. “We have an eight hundred meter run to get into the base. The area we move through contains parts and equipment, as well as atmospheric machinery. Pop suits and get ready. I expect techs any second.”
On the order, the team began to strip off the bulky pressure suits and exo-frames. Ako, the injured Vadne, used her frame to lever off the deck. She hobbled off to find a working shuttle while the rest of the group removed their suits. Underneath, the thin pressure suit worn by most fighter pilots hugged their bodies tightly. While not the armored behemoths of the space suits, the slim-fitting black outer skin would protect them in a variety of environments. Gregor took a moment to pull the headpiece down and secure the faceplate. His heads-up display snapped on, giving him a tactical readout of their area.
“Lucas?” Gregor called.
“Ready to cycle,” the man replied, attaching a flat plate to the control panel for the door.
A sudden change in lighting alerted the team. Where the red light had been steady over the door, an amber light began to blink. Lucas pulled the plate from the door controls and moved. The light change was a signal the door was being opened, but the man’s movements told Gregor that Lucas had not yet activated the hack. There wasn’t much cover near the door, so Gregor and the team had to improvise. The big man ran to the wall and leapt upwards. His boot magnets activated and he was able to walk up the metal hangar wall. A few feet above the door, the team hung in silence as the cycle completed and the airlock swung open.
Teams of technicians burst through the airlock door. Gregor gave thought to Ako, hoping the woman had heard the noise and found cover. It took an eternity, but the last technician finalyl hurried through the door, a piece of food still clutched in its fat porcine hand. Gregor gave the hand signal and the team slowly moved down the wall towards the open portal. Gregor was beginning to sweat from the effort of holding himself against the wall while he was stuck to it with just his feet. It was uncomfortable and not a normal movement. He remembered seeing red king crabs migrating across the North Sea when he was a boy fishing with his father. He felt like one of those crustaceans now, scuttling along a vertical wall and trying not to be caught.
Lincoln, a tall, dark-skinned soldier with a penchant for skiing, moved closest to the opening. He swung down, placing his hands on the floor and clicking off his boots. He flipped forward quietly and drew his legs up under him. As he tucked in, he grabbed his weapon with one hand and swept the airlock door. A quick signal to the team showed the way was clear. In quick succession, Mendel, Yan, and Gregor repeated the maneuver, quietly landing on their toes and holding weapons at the ready. Lucas was last as he was covering the hangar bay while the team moved into the airlock. He grabbed the door frame and flipped over with an acrobat’s grace, landing in the airlock as quietly as the rest, while Mendel covered the bay. All five men moved through the opening and into the mechanical corridors of the station without being seen by the technicians.
The inner corridor was a wide, inverted triangle of metal grating and steam. Lincoln and Yan secured positions behind support struts and kept watch on either end of the walkway while Gregor and Mendel advanced. A short distance further down the corridor was a cross walkway leading further into the base. Lucas took point and checked the corridor. Not seeing anything in his first glance, he stepped out into the walkway, sweeping the plasma pistol down the corridor. A twitch of Lucas’ finger sent Lincoln and Yan ten meters ahead to take up new positions. The team moved down the mechanical corridor in this manner with Mendel and Gregor alternating with Yan and Lincoln for cover. Every twenty meters or so were closed doors. It seemed with the technicians working the launch bay and the fighter wings engaged, there was little activity in these areas. The corridor ended nearly four hundred meters into the base in another cross corridor.
Again, Lucas stepped up and glanced in both directions before swinging back. This time, he indicated a target to the left heading in their direction. The team did their best to flatten against the oddly shaped walls. Mendel and Gregor found the maneuver hardest as they had the most bulk sticking out from the support struts. The sound of boots on grating came closer and both men sucked in a breath. Two Tonal workers came to the intersection and turned. As they passed the start of the corridor, Lucas was able to step out and grab one of the technicians. The creature squealed for a second before the man wrapped an arm around the thick neck and squeezed. Yan was able to kick out, catching the other Tonal in the chest and knocking him back into Lincoln. A quick twist on a nerve bundle just under the alien’s arm knocked him out and he joined the other on the floor.
“Get one of these doors open and hide them,” Gregor ordered.
The unconscious bodies were quickly hidden in a barracks room and the doors were locked. Another check on the corridor indicated the way was clear. They stepped out and to the right this time, following a crude map drawn by the prisoners on Resolute. Another cross corridor turned the walkway into a circular portal. There were hissing sounds radiating down this way and the team could not discern more than fifty meters ahead through a haze of steam and thick atmosphere. They advanced slowly, carefully sweeping both directions. This section of corridor had few doors, and the ones they came across were sealed and labeled as hazardous. Gregor guessed they were passing the power conduits for Xyphlic and signaled for the team not to fire here. The remaining hundred meters was clearer than the first, but Gregor began to hear sounds of activity.
There was a single circular door at the end of this walkway. A thick glass window showed people passing in front of the door. Lucas crept down and took a quick look. When he returned to the thick steam, he motioned for the team to gather.
“The place is packed,” he said with a thick Scouse accent. “We’ll never get through there without being seen.”
“It’s nothing we haven’t planned for,” Gregor said. “From here on in it’s a straight up run and fight. We cause as much chaos as possible and get through to
the inner hub. We meet back at the door to sector three-gee. Everyone got it?”
The team grunted an acknowledgement and checked their weapons. This was the part of the plan where most everything could go wrong. The orders not to kill would be hardest to follow here, but they had been told the base housed mostly civilian followers of the high priests. Gregor and Mendel took up positions on either side of the door as Lucas placed the hack plate over the controls. Lincoln and Yan stood in the middle of the corridor, weapons raised. The light on the panel switched from green to red and the door rolled open.
The first reaction to the insertion team was confusion. As Lincoln and Yan stepped into the teeming throng of people, several of the crowd stepped wide. Lucas followed and was immediately greeted by a stocky Tonal wearing bright robes. The creature handed the man a plate of foul looking food and said something in the ancient language. As Mendel and Gregor joined them, the crowd began to gather around the humans, chanting in a strange dialect.
“This is when I wish we had Ako,” Lucas said quietly. “What the heck are they saying?”
“I think we just got blessed,” Lincoln replied, accepting another plate of the thick stew-like substance. “This is the strangest riot I ever been in, Commander.”
“Let’s not look the gift pig in the snout,” Mendel said. “I say we move … politely.”
“Agreed,” Gregor replied. “Let’s see if these folks are as nice as we think when we get to the secure wing.”
The team tried to spread out as the crowd began to surge. Lincoln had been right. The crowd was not exactly behaving as they had expected. Instead of running in panic, they were showering the team in chanted blessings and food. By the time they made it across the wide boulevard to the secure wing, Mendel had nearly three plates of food stacked on his left arm. He was bobbing his head and saying Thank yous to the crowd. The rest of the team was similarly inundated with gifts and praise from the chanting crowd.
Resolute Alliance (The War for Terra Book 6) Page 11