by Mark Wandrey
“Oh, crap!” he said as he flipped out of the straps. He’d been so out of it, he’d strapped in without getting undressed so he yanked the accordion door aside and stuck his head out. No one was there, but the lighting was pulsing red. He had a moment of confusion, uncertain what to do. He hadn’t had his briefing yet on where their duty stations were. “This a damn drill?” he wondered aloud. A second later, the Goka member of his squad shot by like a rocket-powered cockroach.
“Muster in the armory!” Zit yelled as he soared past.
“Move your meaty ass,” Jeejee added, right behind the Goka. Rick started to flip into the passageway and was almost creamed by 500 pounds of hurtling black body and legs.
“Look out, Human,” Oort, the Tortantula, clicked. Rick noticed she was wearing her saddle and, in a moment of potentially poor judgment, snagged the handhold. He almost got his shoulder dislocated as he was jerked out of his quarters and down the hall. The Tortantula didn’t react to Rick grabbing onto the saddle, except to use a couple of her long legs to counter the sudden spin Rick had induced so she could keep going in the same direction. Rick could see a couple of the eyes that surrounded the arachnid’s head looking at him coolly. He wished he didn’t feel like a tasty bug.
With the speed boost provided by his squad-mate, Rick reached the armory at almost the same times as the rest of the marines. He arrested his momentum by bouncing off the far wall, then slid along to reach his locker. He’d only put his gear there a few hours ago, and had been shown the weapons and armor racks at the same time. The Winged Hussars believed in keeping a well-stocked armory. Sergeant T’jto came flying in from the adjacent gangway which led to the adjoining decks.
“What’s the op?” Jeejee asked.
“Don’t know,” the MinSha said. More and more of the marines were flying in, with varying degrees of zero-G grace. “Gear up, just in case.”
Rick had plenty of practice donning combat armor in zero gravity, and his light armor rig was made to be put on fast. Slide both legs in, cinch it up just below the knees, pull it up his back, get both arms in, and scrunch forward to get the arms all the way in. Even with his mind still fuzzy from the alien octopus’ cranial surgery, he was in and zipped up in under 10 seconds. He pulled the helmet on and slid down the visor, ready.
He caught sight of Johansson and Lynn both pulling on more elaborate rigs as he pushed over to the light weapons rack. There was an assortment of slug throwers of various types as well as a variety of energy weapons. He already had his Ctech HP-4 in its holster and had added several magazines to the armored vest before stowing it, so he grabbed the first two weapons that came to hand, slung one cross body, and took the other in both hands. Both had multiple magazines on their slings.
“Marines,” he heard in his head like someone was perched on his shoulder. He jerked and yelled, banging his head on the weapons rack and earning a laugh from several of his fellow teammates. “Alert, alert, repel boarders! Repeat, muster to repel boarders! Deck 32.”
Rick didn’t think. In his current state of mind, actions happened before he had time to associate a plan with them. In a flash, he spun and pushed off toward the gangway which was at the side of the armory compartment.
“Standby!” Sergeant T’jto chittered, but Rick was already in motion. Not hearing his name, he didn’t respond. The sergeant watched him go in confusion. “Is that Human crazy?” she asked.
“We just got our pinplants a few hours ago,” Lynn said. “He was a little out of it, after the procedure. Nemo said there was some brain damage he had to work around from that laser wound.” Jeejee was laughing as he holstered a pair of huge handguns and swung into Oort’s saddle.
“I think I’m going to like him!” His Tortantula partner had strapped on several pieces of armor to cover her squishy bits, as she called them, and some weaponry that mounted on her legs. By the time Jeejee landed on her back, she was ready to go.
Zit was ready. All he’d had to do was grab the laser weapon configured for his use and wait for orders. Johansson and Lynn were both zipping up their own light combat armor. T’jto noted the members of Zenith Squad were the furthest from being ready and pointed a grasping hand at their sergeant, Leshto.
“Get your squad in heavy armor,” she instructed them, “and set up a static defense on our deck.” The Veetanho sergeant looked ready to complain. “We don’t want any risk of them getting past us to the upper decks! No one gets forward of this. Understood?”
“Yes,” Leshto replied, though obviously unhappy with being ordered to be backup. Raptor was further along, but still not ready.
“Jones,” T’jto said, “as soon as your team is ready, follow us down.”
“We’ll be ready in a few seconds.”
“Don’t rush!” T’jto said. She pointed, and her squad raced after Rick. “Select heavier weapons and follow, but hold at Deck 31. We don’t want them sabotaging the reaction tanks.”
As T’jto followed her squad down the extra-long gangway to engineering, Jones snapped at his squad. “You’re making us look bad. Move it, damn it!”
Leshto took her squad into the part of the armory where the powered armor waited, including the CASPer for her Human. The Oogar in her squad would don heavy body armor, as they were close to being CASPers without them.
Rick was already heading down the long ramp that led from Deck 30. As he hit the entrance to Deck 31, he found the hatch closed and couldn’t figure out how to open it. He turned at a skittering behind him and found the huge form of Oort.
“Sergeant is pissed,” Jeejee told him.
“Why?” he asked as he wrenched the handle to no avail.
“You didn’t hear her yelling at you to stop?”
“No,” he said. He pointed at the door. “Damn hatch is stuck.”
“Move, Human,” Oort said. When a ten-foot-wide spider said move, you did. He floated back against the gangway wall and Oort pushed in close, examining the hatch. “It’s locked on the other side,” she said after a moment.
Johansson and Lynn arrived, with T’jto right behind them. Zit joined them, skittering along the wall, somehow clinging to the smooth surface. Nice trick, Rick thought.
“What do we do?” he asked the Tortantula.
“That’s what I’m here for,” Jeejee said. Grabbing handfuls of spider, he moved down the alien and around to her front where he could get at the hatch. He removed tools from his combat harness and went to work.
“What was that all about?” T’jto asked Rick when she was abreast of him.
“I didn’t hear you,” he said.
“Unlikely,” she said, her huge faceted eyes examining him. “If you aren’t fit for duty, I want you back up ship.”
“I’m fine,” he assured her. “Besides, if whoever boarded us gets at the reactors, I’m just as dead up there, as down here.”
“You have a point,” she said, “but disregard my orders again, and I’ll have you locked up for your own safety.” Rick nodded but found her concern for his safety amusing given the ongoing combat situation.
“It’s spot-welded on the other side,” Jeejee said. He’d slid a tiny camera through an access hole on the hatch. He held a small, Flatar-sized slate in one hand as he manipulated the camera control with the other.
“Any enemies?” T’jto asked. Jeejee flipped a control and panned around. Not finding anything, he flipped another switch and it changed to the IR spectrum. There were a lot of heat sources within view of the engineering space, and many were moving. As they watched, several bright lines slashed across the screen.
“I have multiple targets and weapons fire,” he said.
“Get us in there,” T’jto ordered. The little, furry alien nodded and pulled himself back to his saddle on the Tortantula. From a pouch, he extracted several explosive charges and returned to the door.
“Back a few yards,” he warned.
“CIC this is Dragon Squad actual,” T’jto called over the squad net.
�
�Go ahead,” Captain Cromwell replied.
“The hatch to Deck 32 is welded closed. We have evidence of combat in the engineering spaces. I’ve ordered the hatch breached. Recommend you have damage control parties standing by.”
“Understood,” the captain said, “we have additional situations outside the ship. Be aware there could be more aggressors trying to board.”
“Got it, Dragon out.” She turned to the Flatar. “How are those charges coming?”
“Ready,” he said.
“Zit, you’re first in!” the sergeant ordered. “Oort and Jeejee second, then Johansson and me.” She looked at Lynn and Rick. “You two last. If it turns bloody before you come in, secure the hatch, and hold this space.”
“Yes sir,” Lynn and Rick said in stereo.
T’jto nodded and turned to the Flatar. “Go.”
Jeejee pushed back from the hatch, palming a tiny control. Without being instructed, Oort grabbed him with a long leg, wrapping him like she was tucking an infant under her arm, and turned away, putting her armored torso between the door and her partner. Rick was amazed at the fluid grace of the two working together. No words were needed; it was like watching a choreographed ballet. “Fire in the hole!” Jeejee barked and detonated the explosive.
The specialized breaching charges each contained an ounce of K2. The advanced, high-order explosive was like the Human’s C4 plastic explosive, only about four times as powerful. Jeejee used four of the charges, the resulting blast carefully shaped into the door’s hinges and mechanisms. It wasn’t that loud, but Rick heard several pings of debris ricocheting off the Tortantula’s armor. Oort locked several legs against the gangway walls, kicked back with a pair, and the hatch flew free into the engineering space.
“Go!” T’jto barked at Zit, and the little Goka raced forward through the hatch, strangely-formed laser pistols held in two of its hands. After all the laser fire Rick had seen flying around on Jeejee’s slate, Rick figured the little bug was toast. He was curious that it would so gladly charge into the meat grinder.
Sure enough, warned of the coming assault by the breaching charges, lasers slashed out at the hurtling shape of the Hussars’ insect marine. Several made contact, and Rick’s eyebrows went up as the jet-black carapace of the alien seemed to sparkle and flash when laser bolts grazed its surface. There was no more effect than that; the damned bug seemed to be laser resistant! While the boarders tried to take out Zit, he returned fire.
T’jto turned to the Tortantula. “Go!” she chirped.
Jeejee locked his legs into the saddle as the huge arachnid exploded into motion. She didn’t spin and go in fangs first, as Rick had expected. Her back facing the breached doorway, she pushed backward through the hatch, legs tucked in under her body. Her softer abdomen and wasp-like waist were heavily-armored and presented toward the enemy. Many times bigger and moving slower than the Goka, she instantly drew fire. Rick was again caught off guard by the tactics. This wasn’t what he’d expected from the alien race which had been one of humanity’s more vicious competitors in the merc business.
T’jto nodded at Johansson, and the two launched themselves through the hatch, in slightly different directions. Lynn and Rick moved forward to either side of the hatch as soon as the other two were clear, both holding laser carbines at the ready.
The lights were out in the section of engineering they were looking down into. Both Humans used their riflescopes’ IR feature to see better. After a second, Lynn cursed and started fiddling with her gun.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Our pinplants, remember? I’m linking the gun to mine.”
“Oh, right,” he said. Flipping open a panel on the gun’s stock revealed the controls. He’d seen how to do it in training, but lacking pinplants, he had never done it. He pressed the ‘link weapon’ button and held it down for a full second. ‘Stand by,’ it said. A little hesitantly, he reached up to do the same on the external control of his implant. He had to worm his hand in under the edge of his helmet, squeezing a finger through the padding. Luckily, it was fit to him and that space had been intentionally left less snug. The synthetic plastic appliance of the pinlink was fused with his cranium, and it felt strange beyond words to touch it instead of his skull. After the short wait, the gun control said ‘linked,’ and he saw a tiny gunsight appear at the edge of his peripheral vision. “How do I use the thing?” he asked.
“Concentrate on it,” Lynn said. He concentrated on a better view, and instantly half his vision was filled with the gunsight! It should have been disconcerting, having one half his vision be from his eyes, and the other half from the gun’s scope, but it wasn’t. It seemed the most natural thing ever. “You can make it go away by sort of mentally shrugging it away.” Rick did as she said, and the site shrank to where it was before.
“Wow,” he said in amazement.
“Yeah,” she agreed. A shpring! of suddenly-melting metal sounded as a laser flashed between them and cut a wedge from the hatch frame. Both snapped back to the real world.
“That was close,” she said. Rick nodded and brought the gunsight up. He immediately wished he’d had this when fighting the raiders back aboard the Coronado.
In the engineering space, a laser firefight was well underway. Jeejee and Oort were crouched behind a huge machine and were firing intermittent snapshots further into the room, apparently trying to keep the boarders’ heads down. T’jto and Johansson were slowly crawling along a pair of huge pipes, but were having to duck and backtrack repeatedly as lasers bounced and flashed from the next section. There was no sign of Zit.
“I see at least two groups,” Lynn said. “Maybe three each?”
“Agreed,” Rick said. “Only standard anti-personnel lasers. They’re playing it safe.”
“Check the hatch at nine o’clock,” she said. Rick leaned a little forward into the hatch and swung the carbine around, the image relayed directly into his brain. The hatchway she was indicating had several laser scores around it. As he watched a head popped up for a half second and a laser beam lanced out at Corporal Johansson, missing by inches. “Did you see what it was?”
“No,” Rick said, “they’re wearing full suits.” He watched the exchange of weapons fire between the two sides for a moment until he saw a pattern. “I think I got this,” he said and set his gun’s aiming point. A second later, he triggered the carbine. It gave off the typical snapping whine of a handheld laser weapon. He also felt the slight shudder as the internal mechanism cycled the chemical elements it used to create the deadly beam. He fired twice in rapid order and was rewarded with an explosion of visor glass as a laser weapon came arching through the hatchway. “Bingo.”
T’jto and Johansson responded instantly by bounding out of their cover and heading for the hatchway. In a half-second, they were gone through to the next compartment.
“Hold the gangway,” T’jto ordered over the squadnet, “don’t let them double back on us!”
“Got it,” Rick replied.
“Will do,” Lynn agreed.
“And good shot,” Johansson added. He was beginning to see the MinSha was rather miserly with her praise. She was an insect, after all.
Rick and Lynn pulled themselves through the hatch into engineering and took what cover they could behind machinery on either side. Because of the gangway, there was pitifully little in the way of cover.
The two discussed it and settled on covering both approaches at once. Rick continued to watch the open hatchway Johansson and T’jto had gone through, while Lynn watched further into the section where Oort and Jeejee had moved while exchanging fire with unseen foes. They sat that way for a few moments, then the machinery around them began to hum and vibrate.
“Oh crap,” Lynn barked. Rick was more familiar with shipboard life. The sound was indicative of a reactor powering up. They were getting ready to do something. There was a series of loud claps and quick hums. Relays, Rick guessed. Was the ship opening fire? Then the hull sounded
like a huge gong, and they felt the great ship move. Something had hit them. The lights in the engineering space went out.
“Shit,” Rick hissed and concentrated, trying to cycle the riflescope enhancement to IR. After a second he gave up and raised the stock. Flipping open the cover again, he tabbed the infrared setting and swung it around, in time to see a pair of figures flying at him and his partner.
* * * * *
Chapter 24
“Pressure’s still rising,” Guylan said. “It’s way above red line! I’m getting status alarms from the tank regulators!”
“That’s enough,” Alexis said. “Edwards, bring the port aft laser online.”
“Standing by,” he reported.
“Sever those hoses,” she ordered. “A five-megawatt pulse should do it.”
“Yes ma’am,” he said. “Firing!”
Outside the ship, a single laser emitter popped up from the hull, its internal mirrors aligned as laser energy was channeled. Edwards felt the firing as a pleasant tingle in his mind and saw the line of energy cutting along the hull. The hoses connecting Pegasus to the tanker were sliced cleanly, the tanker end flailing violently as liquid vented into space. Automatic valves inside Pegasus sensed the pressure drop and sealed.
The wildly spewing hoses induced yaw to the tanker, yaw that wasn’t countered because the autopilot had been disengaged. The thrust wasn’t huge, but it was constant. In only a moment, it was apparent the tanker was swinging around toward Pegasus.
“Collision alert!” Glick, the SitCon warned.
“Shields!” Paka ordered.
Edwards responded immediately, bringing the battlecruiser’s defenses online. The tanker hit the shields, making them flash with absorbed energy. Both ships rebounded from each other.
“Helm, back us out!” Alexis snapped.