Winged Hussars (The Revelations Cycle Book 3)

by Mark Wandrey

“How bad?” Sergeant Johansson asked. Rick raised his left arm and saw it ended a few inches below his elbow.

  “Bad enough,” he said. The suit’s systems had sealed below the severed joint using a special chemical gel that hardened instantly in vacuum. He looked back down and saw his arm floating there, spinning lazily. He didn’t feel remorse or despair, only a mild disappointment. After all, it wasn’t the first time he’d been maimed in his short merc career. He was still alive, at least. “I can fight.”

  “Help me get more rounds on that shield,” she said, firing and moving. The gunner was increasingly unconcerned with damage as he continued to shoot at whatever moved. Oort nearly lost another leg, and Jeejee cursed creatively as he abandoned his saddle an instant before the beam took a chunk out of it. The Flatar launched several grenades which exploded harmlessly against the shield, before he retreated behind heavy machinery, the laser chasing him all the way.

  “Can you cut the power to that?” the lieutenant asked the XO, who was safely out of the line of fire. “That’s a direct power laser. No way it’s chemical with that rate of fire and power output.”

  “No,” Paka replied; “they’ve got it tapped into the main power relay.” The ship shuddered badly. The perimeter of the engine room was lined with long superconducting power conduits which fed the shields and weapons. Two that fed the ship’s shields suddenly turned red hot, their insulation flashing to powder, then exploded. White hot bits of metal splashed across engineering, some landing on other equipment. Fires flared in several places, roiling and pulsing like living things, moving along their oxidizer fuel sources in the otherworldly way fires did in zero gravity. “If I cut the mains, we’ll be blown to shit!”

  The huge laser cut again, the beam tearing through a fuel feed just over T’jto’s head. The MinSha ducked away, armored hands brushing molten metal from her suit helmet before it could melt through the plastic dome. Little discolored spots were left behind, and tiny cracks that hissed atmosphere.

  “We won’t last for long if we don’t stop that laser,” the lieutenant said.

  “I will dance the final dance,” Oort said, and prepared to launch herself at the shield.

  “Your huge hairy self won’t get halfway there,” a voice said over the squadnet. “I got this.”

  From the maze of pipes and equipment near the exit where the laser was set up came a black shape as Zit arced through the air. The enemy gunner didn’t see the shape shoot into the passageway and land on the wall. Zit folded his wings and skittered along, his specially-evolved feet gripping the imperfections in the metal.

  When he reached the shield, he slowed and moved with deliberate precision. The shield shimmered as the marine slid through. Shields were meant to stop the energy of an attack. If you moved slowly, you could walk or float right through.

  There were a dozen Maki marines manning the massive laser cannon. One finally noticed the Goka just as he cleared the shield and yelled a warning. The enemy marine brought up his personal laser carbine and fired several times. The beams flashed against the Goka’s laser-resistant carapace. Zit drew a pair of long blades and leaped.

  “Damn,” Jeejee said. “Look at him go!” The Goka tore into the midst of the gun crew. Zit rammed a blade through the heavy armor of one of the troops with surprising ease, sending a gout of blood spraying in a fan. He spun and smashed the faceplate of another with a blade’s hilt, even as the others drew weapons. Laser beams began to crisscross the space.

  It was the most intense close quarter’s battle Rick had ever seen. The Goka punched, slashed, and kicked at the enemy troopers with all six limbs. When one tried to grab him in a desperate bear hug, Zit popped his wing cases open, forcing the hands away, but was hit by a laser beam that punched through the wildly-struggling alien’s abdomen while the protective cases were open.

  “Gah,” Zit screamed, unconsciously broadcasting over the squadnet through his implants. “You mammalian fuck!” He spun and threw one of his knives hard enough to punch through the hardened plastic face shield of the Maki marine who’d fired the shot. But the damage was done, and Rick could see through his suit’s visual sensors that the Goka’s bodily fluids were spraying out.

  The two remaining members of the gun crew, the ones operating the weapon, were crouched behind the weapon’s control system, shooting at Zit with small arms. Zit clung to a badly-injured Maki, using it for a living shield. The Goka’s movements looked uncoordinated.

  “You did well, Private,” T’jto said to Zit, “now get back here so we can fix you up.” A laser beam flashed out at the lieutenant, who cursed and moved back again.

  “Oh, fuck you,” the Goka said, “and fuck this job.” From under his carapace, Zit pulled out a pair of K2 grenades. He pulled the pins and leapt at the gun crew. An instant later, gun and crew went up in a brilliant ball of rolling flame.

  “Crazy bug,” Jeejee said, although Rick thought the words held a tone of respect. He wasn’t sure; he was too busy telling his suit to give him more happy juice. The severed arm was really starting to hurt.

  The battleship shuddered again, and a beam of pure white energy lanced through the engine room. Lightning danced along the length of the beam as it cut through the corner of one of the fusion reactors. The massive ring of magnetic containment buffers shuddered, and exploded outward.

  For an instant, Rick thought they were going to die. When the containment system of a fusion reactor failed, especially one running at full power, it was a touch and go thing. This time the system worked as it should. When the buffers failed, they used the last of their energy to channel the fusing plasma out through a special section of hull into space. The containment vessel, now visible, glowed bright red in vacuum and started to deform and fall apart. Hissing jets of F11 sprayed as it failed and the last of the plasma leaked out.

  “Holy shit,” Johansson gasped. Rick just shook his head. They were only a few hundred feet from all that heat, but because of the vacuum, they couldn’t feel it at all.

  “Yeah,” Paka said, “I guess it’s about time to go.”

  Rick wondered idly how much radiation they’d just absorbed.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 35

  Alexis floated in her CIC, watching the big Tri-V displaying the developing battle between the HecSha and the Maki. She’d secretly considered the idea of creating this infighting as borderline insane when it was suggested to her. Too many things had to go just right for it to work. Yet, there it was; both fleets were tearing into each other with wanton abandon.

  “”

  “Yes,” she replied over the pinlink, “you did. But is this going to cost me all my marines?”

  “”

  I knew you’d say that, she thought. “TacCom,” she said, “bring us about and target the HecSha drone carrier. Full power to the reactors. Prepare for battle!”

  As the two fleets tore into each other in earnest, they’d nearly drifted right by Pegasus. When the ancient warship was practically in their midst, it came alive and spun about.

  “Match bearings and fire, Edwards!”

  “Match bearings and fire, aye,” the small man said, and the crew held onto their seats as the 80,000-ton warship spun on her central axis. Several escorts from both fleets noticed the massive EM power spike as Pegasus came alive and maneuvered, but their calls to the command ships were either not received (in the case of the Maki ship), or not immediately heeded (in the case of the HecSha). “Firing!” Edwards called as the target fell within the main gun’s sights.

  Managing shot placement of a weapon like the spinal mount on Pegasus was an art form. Punching holes was useful, but causing cut damage was much more effective. When firing the spinal mount, Edwards had helm control, and he used it to maximum effect. He fired the spinal-mounted particle accelerator cannon in a 40-terawatt pulse lasting just over three seconds. It began just before coming on line with the HecSha carrier, so the first quarter-second miss
ed the ship proper, but hit the shields. Battleship shields struggle with multi-terawatt range weapons; the carrier’s shields were no match. By the time the beam reached the hull, the shields were down, and the weapon carved into the relatively delicate carrier like a chainsaw into a watermelon. Gouts of fire erupted from critical damage, and the carrier lost drive and stabilization.

  “Ship-killers on the Maki carrier, five tubes.” Alexis ordered, and the hull thrummed as five of the 10 launchers hurled missiles into the black. They burned like tiny suns as they accelerated away at five hundred gravities. On the Tri-V, the HecSha carrier was structurally compromised. When they’d been hit they were maneuvering, and the 40,000-ton ship folded in on itself and crumpled like a box being sat upon. Secondary explosions rippled across the crippled ship like Christmas lights as she died. Alexis nodded. “SitCom, redirect power to defenses.” The spinal mount doors closed protectively. “All laser batteries, free fire. Reload tubes one thru five with anti-missiles. Helm, three Gs, get us moving.”

  The five ship-killers reached the Maki carrier, which fared worse than the HecSha had. Unaware of the new tactical situation, the defensive lasers were arrayed toward the HecSha fleet. The first two missiles knocked its shields down, and the next three detonated directly against the hull. The carrier was annihilated in less than a second.

  On the Tri-V, the two fleets suddenly became aware of the killer in their midst. Though they were busy flailing at each other, they also began to fire at the Pegasus. No sooner had Alexis ordered power directed to the shields then they started to flash from raking laser fire from the two closest HecSha escorts. Edwards immediately directed 10 of the ship’s offensive laser batteries at the closer of the two. One hundred megawatts each, the combined fire punished the smaller ship’s shields, forcing it to maneuver to bring its other shields to bear. A single ship-killer lanced out, and the escort frigate died in a nuclear fire. The first enemy missiles began to reach out for Pegasus. Alexis’ lips drew back from her teeth. The battle was joined.

  * * *

  “Sergeant Leshto,” T’jto called over the squadnet as her team began moving down the service corridor. It was an extremely tight space for Oort.

  “Here,” the pained reply came.

  “We’re heading for your position. Can you disengage?”

  “Negative,” the Zenith Squad’s sergeant replied immediately. They were fighting in atmosphere and T’jto could hear the reverberations of heavy weapons fire being transmitted through metal. “Klon and Dron are heavily engaged just outside. Their portable shield generator is about to fail. We’re opening AuxCon doors to help them fight. Last stand.” Johansson consulted her version of the map and sent a route to her lieutenant who glanced at the mental image before replying.

  “We can be there in three minutes,” she said, “those doors should hold that long. Have the Oogar pull back inside with you and hold on!” Through the link there was a resounding explosion followed by an Oogar roar. Another series of explosions, then nothing.

  “They’re gone,” Sergeant Leshto said. There was banging against the AuxCon blast door. “Get to the hangar deck,” she said. “If they’re trying to get in here, that heavy weapons team can’t be hunting you. We’ve set charges on all the systems.”

  “I will hold them,” Godor grunted. The Lumar were not particularly bright, but they were brave, strong fighters.

  “I do not know what to say,” T’jto said.

  “Thank you will suffice,” the Veetanho replied, then gave a little laugh that turned into a strangled cough. The entire battleship rocked violently. “Main shields are out! You’d better hurry while there’s a chance for any of us to survive!”

  “Good luck, Sergeant,” T’jto said. There was a moment of intense static, and the squadnet went silent. “Damn,” she said. A moment later the ship shuddered from an internal explosion.

  “Lieutenant, Raptor here.”

  “Go, Sergeant.”

  “A security detail just ran into the guards I had at the main hangar entrance. We beat them back, but I lost Private L’kto.” If the lieutenant showed any more emotion at losing one of her own kind, she didn’t show it.

  “Acknowledged, we’re almost there. Hold the entrance at all costs.”

  “We won’t be able to launch if they’re blowing the shit out of that hangar,” Johansson noted.

  “Suggestions?” the lieutenant asked. Rick had been using his pinplants to study the layout as they moved. It was distracting him from staring at the nasty stump of his arm. Looking at the route, he piped up.

  “How about this,” he said, and he transmitted the deck plans with a route in red.

  “Nice,” Johansson said.

  “Very good,” the lieutenant agreed. “Jones, we’ll need an extra minute.”

  “We’ll hold,” he replied with grim determination. A short distance ahead, T’jto and her team transitioned through a maintenance lock into atmosphere and hurried onward.

  The team of 20 heavily-armed and -armored marines, one of only four platoons on the battleship, were tasked with taking the hangar deck. The ship’s captain knew the entropy-cursed invaders would want a way off the ship, and that was the most logical choice. The invaders may have cut off his control of the ship and turned his allies against him, but they wouldn’t get away with their lives.

  The Maki marines understood they faced elite troops. The team that tried to retake engineering had been lost. The one that assaulted AuxCon had finally taken it, with nearly 90 percent casualties, only to have the entire room blow up in their faces. The only other marines on board were the platoon guarding the CIC. They had to succeed, so they pressed the attack with single-minded determination. So single-minded, in fact, they didn’t see the access panels above them slowly slide open.

  A Tortantula could squeeze through a surprisingly small space, if it really wanted to. Oort had removed her saddle and slid through the 30-inch square access shaft and pushed off into the midst of the extremely surprised Maki marines. They were about half the size of a Human, and were even tinier compared to the monstrous Tortantula. Oort snatched the first one that came to hand and used the heavily-armored marine as a convenient club to pummel the hapless marine’s teammates. Her Flatar partner flipped out of the hatch, holding onto the opening with one arm while firing his handgun with the other.

  Further down the corridor, two arm-mounted miniguns fired like buzz saws, cutting their way out of the access corridor to fire at the Maki below. The arrival of the two CASPers was an even worse surprise for the already-stunned marines. Rick had to use his right hand and legs to do the rending. With their teammates mixed in with the enemy, they couldn’t use their MACs. Instead they triggered their retractable arm blades and, with puffs from their jumpjets, waded into the battle.

  T’jto had intended to join the battle, but as she slid through the massive gouge left by the two CASPers, she realized it would be foolhardy, so she pulled back to cover the lightly-armored XO.

  Even with a Tortantula, two CASPers, and a trigger-happy Flatar on one side, the Hussars were still outgunned five to one, and the Maki marines weren’t slouches. They quickly recovered from the surprise attack and concentrated fire on the biggest threat, Oort. The Tortantula’s armor took several laser hits before one found a soft spot. A splash of orange-tinted blood was the only sign she’d been injured; even the second and third shots that got through didn’t slow her. Above, Jeejee shot one of the marines who had injured his partner through the top of its armored head. A second later a laser beam neatly drilled through the Flatar’s chest.

  Jeejee jerked, his gun floating free as his life was snuffed out. With her numerous eyes, Oort saw it happen, and she went completely berserk.

  “Nooooo!” she screamed, slashing at Maki marines with arm blades, grabbing one and crunching down on its head with her fangs. The marines fell back from the ferocity of her attack, hitting her a half dozen times with laser fire. She responded by using the machine gun on her m
anipulative arm and unloaded it into the group, mercilessly slaughtering them.

  Rick and Johansson tried to help, but the grieving Tortantula was a whirling dervish of death and destruction. She didn’t stop until the corridor was awash in Maki blood. It floated everywhere, covering the huge spider and turning her into a nightmare image which would have made Dante shudder.

  T’jto floated into the corridor behind the squad. Oort drifted amidst the carnage, her thorax slowly pulsing with each breath. She was wounded in a dozen places, her eyes wide and staring.

  “Private,” the MinSha said, and Oort caught the wall and spun around. Even the CASPer-suited pair tensed. The Tortantula looked…feral. “Private, are you in there?” Rick selected his MAC, and waited. “Private!” T’jto barked, then spoke in a softer voice. “We’ll all miss Jeejee, but we need to get back to Pegasus; the captain needs us.”

  “I’m sorry we lost him,” Rick said. “Really. He was nice, for a sarcastic killing machine.” For a second he thought he’d made a mistake, then the Tortantula gave a single laugh.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Oort finally said.

  * * *

  “Signal from the boarding teams,” Hoot said. Alexis looked away from the status board, hoping it was good news. “They are about to depart, with all objectives achieved. Lt. T’jto reports twelve lost.”

  Alexis’ jaw muscles bunched, and she looked down at her lap. She’d known when she sent them that it might be…would probably be…bad. But some part of her had counted on the judgement of…of the entity, who had said there was an almost certainty the plan would work. She’d believed that if it worked, most of them would come back. It had worked, but most of them weren’t coming back.

  “Understood,” she said, managing to keep the catch out of her voice. “Tell them to initiate the next stage of the plan.” The Buma comms officer acknowledged the instructions and transmitted them. “Helm, prepare to come about to new course!”