“You saved us all in one way or another. Except Cairenn, every single one of us would be dead or worse if not for your selflessness. After watching you in the pit, it only reinforced our decision. You've done whatever you could for us. Now we wanted to give something to you.”
It was the first genuine show of humility Alistair had ever seen from Garcia. Although it was true that he had saved nearly all of them from death or worse, he'd never considered receiving any type of compensation for it.
“I .. thank you. Truly.”
Upon closer inspection, he realized the inside of the shield was covered with inscriptions of every crew member's signature, even Achilles. His looked more like a stamp than a signature, though.
“The shield is a heat resistant polymer on the outside. Inside, it's tempered tungsten and titanium alloy sheets woven between rows of carbon fiber nano mesh. It will stop a railgun round from anything walking on two feet. It has kinetic dispersion buffers that force the energy across the shield and outward, too. So your bones won't shatter the first time somebody shoots at you.”
Garcia was obviously very proud of his creation.
“The best part was Cairenn's brainchild, though,” he admitted. “You tell him.”
“I always wondered about the shields you'd see in old sci-fi flicks and how they could actually be made for practical application, but on a small scale. I know the Republic's biggest ships have dispersion fields that can deflect energy and heat weapons, but they've never been scaled down. So we tried to utilize your armor's energy production capabilities and were able to create a thin magnetic barrier covering over the front. It'll help protect the surface from plasma attacks way more than any ceramic coating could. This shield is practically indestructible, something I know you'll put to the test soon.”
“What about the hammer?” Alistair asked. He was practically giddy.
“It's just a hammer. I saw you fight with one, and I know you don't need anything special in that department. It's made of the same kinetic resistant alloys and nano fibers, but your new glove is the exciting part.”
Garcia led Alistair around to the right side of the suit and showed him the new glove attachment. It looked the same as his old one, but with a small box on the top side of the wrist.
“Is that a gun?”
“It's a small railgun attachment. It'll let you fire from your suit without having to stow your hammer. It's powered by your suit's reactor as well, so I wouldn't recommend trying to block plasma fire with shooting and lifting burning bulkheads, but if you can ration your energy you'll be just fine. It should have the same kick as a standard handheld magrifle.”
Alistair stared in awe at this technological marvel of chaos and mayhem.
“If you're not careful, you'll make me tear up, guys,” he said with a wavering voice. Alistair hadn't experienced such gratuitous kindness for as long as he could remember.
“I apologize for the intrusion, Mr. Crowe, but we're preparing for our final descent to our target. We will be in our initial attack position in fifteen minutes.”
“Time to suit up and show us what you're made of, cap'n,” Stewart said with a slap on the back. Alistair smiled, nodded, and had his hollow armor march to his quarters. It was time to go.
Chapter 53
“Our attack run will start in 60 seconds,” Lili said from the pilot's seat. With Alistair, Stewart, and Garcia suited up awaiting their boarding action, Lili was the only one with flight experience. She wanted Achilles' processing power devoted to point defense and scanning, while Mel manned the railgun turrets, Rachel the main cannons, and Cairenn the torpedo bays.
“We only have one chance to take out these five ships and their patrol routes will put them into just the right positions soon. We can't start over once we start this, so make your shots count, ladies.”
Lili, Rachel, Mel, and Achilles had done practice runs dozens of times, but now was when it would really count. Achilles wouldn't miss, but he was busy clogging his processing bottlenecks with mountains of scan survey data.
“Ten seconds until we're in optimal scanning range, launching counter measures after initial attack,” Lili announced.
The Ubik launched its weapons with pinpoint accuracy, hurling four tungsten bolts at three targets, while two silent torpedoes screamed from its launch bays. They would wait until they were one tenth of a second from impact before igniting a nuclear inferno from their front, vaporizing anything in their path.
The first three ships were immediately transformed into miniature novas, while the latter two were consumed by essentially the same thermal process two seconds later as the slower torpedoes found their marks.
Just as The Ubik launched its barrage with deadly accuracy, a flurry of sensor dampening pods, thermal flares, and explosive chaff grenades were hurled from every electronic countermeasure tube that dotted the hull. The ship had changed its contact signature into a chaotic nightmare of untargetable sensor distractions.
The pirate cutter's turrets were set on an automatic defense protocol and, as the crew was alerted to the presence of a hostile ship, began to fire.
Beams of light from its ionized projector cannons seared through the void around The Ubik, burning her countermeasures into vapor with every blast.
“A few concentrated hits from those cannons will sear us alive in here, even with the reactive thermal plating on the armor. Let's make sure that ship never leaves the dock.”
Before Lili could even finish her sentence, Achilles had set the two plasma autocannons with a firing solution to work using a similar auto firing algorithm to what the pirate cutter was using. Without any sensor interference from countermeasures, however, the end result was drastically different.
Several beams had seared the hull of The Ubik, their white-gold light burning through graphite and ceramic plating. Many of the hits seemed to cause serious damage from a distance, but in reality had only removed inexpensive decoy containers and sensors placed along the hull as camouflage. In return, however, a hellish storm of plasma descended on the cutter with devastating potency. The crew of the pirate cutter, The Presidential Pardon, was slow to rise from their off-duty positions, not that it would have mattered. Automated firing solutions or not, the battle was over before it truly began. The temperature of the ship rose from a comfortable 65 degrees Fahrenheit to nearly 2,400 degrees, just below the melting point of steel, within a span of thirty seconds – such was the effectiveness of thousands of nuclear fireballs hurled from two plasma cannons to an improperly shielded opponent.
Had the pirates invested in more reliable thermal barriers, they would have survived long enough to die from incoming railgun fire – but the plasma cannons did their gruesome work and the ship folded in on itself before a series of internal explosions rendered it completely useless and devoid of life. Liquefied metal from bulkheads was propelled outward thanks to the pockets of explosive decompression and the dock was splattered with glowing orange slag before rapidly cooling and changing to black and gray.
“All hostile ships have been neutralized, boarding party. We're moving to dock with the station and should be in position shortly,” Lili said. “Good luck in there, gentlemen. I expect all of you back for dinner tonight, understood?”
“Yes, ma'am,” the three men said in tandem. They readied themselves for their own destructive display with the full intention of not being outdone by their female counterparts.
Chapter 54
After aligning with one of the docking arms protruding from the asteroid base's cavern, the airlock on The Ubik's starboard side slid open and the three armored men leaped onto the platform. As soon as they confirmed touchdown, The Ubik gently careened away to spread a screen of friend-or-foe mines before shutting down its systems and concealing itself. Any Python reinforcements would be in for a nasty surprise as they returned to their home base.
“Alistair, you and your shield take lead. I'll cover left flank, Stewart has right,” Garcia barked.
&nb
sp; “Aye,” Stewart replied. Alistair was silent.
“I would advise the three of you to move from your exposed position on the docking arm as soon as possible. I was able to detect over three hundred life signs aboard the station, although many of them appear to be imprisoned on the lower levels. You have a force of at least 45 pirates on high alert.”
“Shit, alright. Thanks Achilles,” Garcia said. 45 armed hostiles against three boarders.
“I don't like their odds,” Alistair joked as he slammed his hammer against the side of his shield.
“I'll try to save a few for you. Don't want anybody's feelings to get hurt,” Stewart replied.
The station had artificial gravity via a gravisteel network installed throughout and the men used their powered armor's movement enhancing strength with great efficiency. Before any hostiles had been spotted they reached the inside of the cavern and set about following Achilles' pre-planned route. The end of the docking arm was attached to a series of heavy metal scaffolds and platforms, all of which were connected via ramps and stairways. At the center of the artificial platforms was a large set of double doors, undoubtedly the primary airlock to the station.
“Achilles found more traces of the same bio weapon, but won't be able to identify them until we get them on the ship. He knows where they're storing it on the station, though.”
“Somebody should see to the prisoners, too,” Alistair added. “But first we should head for their weapons storage and see if we can figure out what's going on.”
The three men climbed the final ramp leading to the massive steel doors, still no hostiles in sight.
“Ready for a fight, gentlemen?” Stewart asked.
“Always,” replied Garcia.
Both men on Alistair's flanks were wielding their MRG rifles as primary weapons and shorter range plasma burst rifles magnetically locked onto their thighs. They stacked against the door, Garcia on the left, Stewart on the right, and Alistair in the center. Stewart hit the button to begin the opening sequence. The first door opened without surprise, which they'd expected. The outer airlock door led to a compression chamber.
They filed inside and, once the outer door closed, the walls hissed as it filled the chamber with breathable air. The inner door began to open and both marines tossed stun grenades between the slowly widening gap.
The grenades were a combination of flashbang stun and electromagnetic pulse, frying the sensory abilities of humans and machines alike. With an absurdly loud crack and bright white flash, twelve of the fourteen hostiles inside were disoriented as their eyes burned, ears rang, and suits ran through emergency reboot protocols. Suits prepared for the grenades could temporarily harden themselves, shutting down non vital features and immediately launching them after the grenades had gone off.
Alistair was first inside, shield held high to deflect both himself and his squadmates. His footsteps were heavy - if the defenders didn't know better, they would have assumed they were under attack by walking tanks.
Stewart and Garcia both rushed in behind him and ran toward their respective sides, firing off untargeted potshots to keep their enemies disoriented. Meanwhile, Alistair had already scored three kills with his newly designed compact magpistol. All three kills were practically given to him, as they were pirates in basic environmental suits fumbling in the open after the stun grenades did their job.
Stewart, taking the right flank, found a stack of four metal crates for cover. If the enemies were using highly tuned MRG rifles they could have punched through his cover without issue. However they all seemed to have ion beam projector rifles, colloquially known as i-beams. The rifles projected a super heated ionized stream in front of them and were very effective against lightly armored or unarmored foes -against bare flesh, they were devastating.
He took aim and fired three precise shots, each taking down one enemy combatant that seemed to be focusing on the shield-wielding giant pushing the center.
Garcia, meanwhile, had less luck finding cover, as his side of the room seemed to have been mostly empty. A beam glanced off his right shoulder pauldron and seared it, but the thermal casing kept him from taking any real damage. He could replace one of the plates on it and no one would be the wiser.
After finding a nook between a support beam and a rise in the floor, he was able to score a kill of his own, but the Pythons on his side weren't nearly as focused on Alistair as he'd hoped.
Several beams hit Alistair's shield as he charged toward the center squad defending the room and couldn't help but smile as the four men who took cover there immediately broke down and ran for cover. Their rudimentary environmental suits hampered their movement instead of enhancing it and he was able to catch up almost immediately. One wide swing with his hammer sent two men to his left like ragdolls, while his magpistol attachment expanded the skull cavities of the other two into a gruesome pink and gray mist.
After his ruthless display, the three remaining pirates focused their fire on Alistair – a total of two i-beam rifles and a dated plasma pistol aimed in his direction.
His shield glowed in response to the rapid temperature increase and energy absorption, while the user interface inside his helmet warned of a power usage spike that pushed his fusion reactor harder and harder, warning of a critical power failure within two minutes.
With the covering fire drawn from himself toward Alistair, Garcia was able to take out the final three threats and the room fell deathly quiet.
One of the pirates that Alistair had swiped with his hammer was still twitching, so he went over and smashed the woman's skull with his enormous metal boot. A repulsive crunching squish reverberated through the corridor and the following silence was unnerving.
“Fuck, man,” Garcia said. “I'm glad to see your new tools working so well, but you didn't have to show off so much.”
“Didn't bother me,” countered Stewart. “He drew their fire and we had a bunch of easy shots.”
“We need to keep moving,” Alistair said, his voice gravelly and stern. He was in his element, yet again, and knew that there were a lot more lives to take before the day was over. A sly smile worked its way onto his lips as the three men headed toward the next door on Achilles' route toward the weapons cache.
Chapter 55
“Looks like they're about to enter the target room,” Rachel said. All of the women still aboard The Ubik were intently watching the unfolding carnage as the boarding team fought their way from room to room. Only four of Achilles' estimated 45 defenders remained and it was clear from their rapidly fleeing signals that they had no intention of fighting.
“The suit's camera is a lot more riveting than the tactical overlay screen, you know.” Mel was initially scared for Alistair, but was a bit more comfortable after seeing the unflinching professionalism of the two marines. This was their first real combat mission as a crew and she now understood just how ruthlessly efficient the Marine Corps could really be.
Doesn't hurt to have my lumbering giant taking the lead, she thought with a smile.
Chapter 56
As the boarding party entered the weapons storage room, they almost immediately located the telltale shielded storage crates containing the bio weapons. The room was fairly substantial - larger than The Ubik in her entirety. Missile racks, ammo crates, and energy storage containers filled the majority of it. Most crates were color coded to reveal their contents while generic steel or plastic containers typically stuck with hues of gray. Shielded crates were designed with stealth technology in mind and were typically not square or rectangular, but triangular in order to deflect sensor detection. They were never to be stacked anyway and their peculiar shape helped make sure of that. They were covered in absorbent black paint that barely reflected a signal and their overall construction utilized heavy metals to further shield their contents. That Achilles was able to detect any illicit presence at all was nothing short of astonishing.
“Achilles, I'm at one of the crates now,” Garcia said. He folded up a sm
all metal flap on his left wrist to reveal a light blue screen and held it near the front of the container. “Do your thing, bud.”
“Acknowledged.” Achilles' unflinching responses betrayed his constantly evolving personality, but had still become a source of comfort for the members of the crew.
After a brief wait, the crate unlocked itself and the lid opened. Inside were nondescript metal canisters, undoubtedly filled with liquid nitrogen to keep the glass vials within from thawing.
“I've got the package secured. Let's get to the prison level as soon as we're done here,” Garcia said. They had never truly discussed which of them would lead the charge, but Garcia was a natural leader and the other two fell in line without question. His tactical experience far surpassed Stewart and even Alistair, although his flair for maximizing carnage was a distant second, a fact that didn't bother Garcia at all.
A metal case opened on the back of his waist, and he slid the bio weapon inside.
“Alright, I've copied all of the contents of the station's main computer. We'll have to wait to transmit it to Achilles: the rocks are too thick here and my suit's signal isn't strong enough.” Stewart pointed to his own light blue wrist display and shrugged.
“Roger that. Let's move slow once we get close, there are over 250 life signs still aboard the station and we can't hope to deal with them if they're hostile. They haven't moved outside of their predetermined areas and Achilles confirms that several of them have rapidly declining vitals. He's having trouble keeping scans clear this deep in the rock, though, so we might end up on our own.”
The three armored men made their way down stairs and ramps until they had finally reached the lower level. They encountered no resistance along the way, which made all three of them uncomfortable.
As they reached the lower levels, they heard a cacophony of noise grow louder and louder.
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