Must be a junior officer. He will do for starters.
He was dressed the same as Vigilis in every other respect and was flanked by a single Animosh warrior carrying the same kind of weapon. He was in the perfect position to shoot at her. She squeezed the trigger, but before she could fire, a hole the size of her fist appeared in his chest. He staggered back, revealing a pair of Zathee who were shooting from a kneeling position. Several oversized figures moved in the shadows, and then she saw Wictred trying to move as discreetly as possible into a large foyer area and to a massive staircase that went below ground level.
Wictred? Jack might be with him.
That was all the signal she needed to keep moving. Her marine training and natural agility helped her rush across the open ground in full view of the Helion security forces. Some tried to shoot at her, but she ignored them and surged forward, relying on her speed and the defensive fire from the Zathee. By the time she’d reached the first of the steps, Wictred was long gone. Teresa slid along the ground and knelt down behind a black stone pillar that marked the corner of the immense staircase. Shouts from above heralded yet more Zathee. They ran down and directly into the gun line of the Animosh
Brave, but they don’t have clue, she thought.
Teresa closed her eyes for just a moment as she tried to take it all in. It was clear to her now that the Helions were far from their friends. They must have been behind the crashing of ANS Conqueror, whereas the Zathee inhabitants of this city block had done nothing but avoid her or even help.
“Major Morato?” a familiar voice called out from the bottom of the staircase.
She glanced around the column and saw Wictred and a dozen other people heading in the darkness. There were others of a similar height to him, but she only recognized the young warrior and friend of her son’s. He looked away, and for a second she thought he hadn’t seen her, but then another marine appeared and looked up at her.
“Jack?” she said both to herself and those on the stairs.
Her son immediately recognized her and started to go back but was halted by Wictred. They spoke for a short time, and then Jack shouted up to her.
“Get down here. We’re heading for the shuttle!”
The group continued downward with only Jack remaining and waiting for her. She didn’t pause and moved out to follow him. She only made it two steps when a searing pain burned through her shoulder. She tried to steady herself, but it was too little, too late. With a howl of pain, she slipped and fell onto the hard steps. Teresa didn’t move far before sliding to a stop. She lay on her back, trying to move, but the burning sensation completely paralyzed the upper part of her body. Teresa shook her head and found Jack looking down at her. He grabbed her left arm and lifted her up to his shoulder. The pain was excruciating, but he was strong enough to move her. They made it another ten steps before he was forced to stop and try to alter his grip. As he moved his hands, she cried out.
“What happened?” she asked in a brief moment of calm before it kicked in again.
“Salene screwed us. The Ambassador’s daughter killed the leader of the rebels.”
They stumbled on a step, and Jack leaned to his right, swinging his carbine up with one hand to fire a burst. It shook violently, and only his firm grip and the strong sling kept it from hitting the sidewall. A thermal round melted into the stonework behind them, but Jack’s return fire seemed to keep them at bay, at least for a few more seconds.
“Right, keep going.”
They moved on down the wide steps, as Jack tried to explain as quickly as he could.
“She turned on them and us. This was never about helping the rebels. The Helions are using us to join them in a final war against the rebels.”
“War?” said Teresa, her voice now becoming weaker.
“Yes,” answered Wictred, “they have done it before against their own people. They plan to use us to assist in genocide, all because we will believe the Zathee murdered our people.”
Wictred pulled the device they had taken from the rebel leader and waved it in front of her. The blue ring pulsed with concealed energy and caught her attention, but she closed her eyes. Jack shook her, and they opened, though much more slowly this time.
“Hang in there. We’re going with the rebels to use this.”
Teresa looked at the object but had no idea what it was.
“To do what?”
Wictred grinned.
“This will bring down their security system and send out a signal to the rebels that the uprising has begun.”
Teresa shook her head, trying to absorb this new information.
“You want to help them in a war?”
Jack leaned closer to her.
“They know a war with the Biomechs is coming. If we help them, they will join us. They have billions of people…including synthetics like Wictred.”
Teresa looked at Wictred and laughed.
“Like Wictred? What, you mean they have Jötnar?”
A surge of pain shook her body, and she passed out once more. Teresa tried to understand exactly what he was saying, but the pangs of agony from the wound continued to wrack her body. It was unlike any injury she’d ever faced before, and the pain seemed to increase over time. Jack shifted her bodyweight, but Wictred leaned in and took most of her weight. Between them, they were easily able to continue further underground and into a wide open landing bay. The ceiling was nearly ten meters above them, but the entire floor was given over to over a dozen vehicles. Half were ground transports, but there were also four streamlined aircraft. Each was the size of an Alliance heavy bomber yet shaped more like a bird of prey. The group of rebels ran for the nearest where a pair of Zathee were busy disconnecting cables and pipes. The synthetic grunted and beckoned for them to follow him.
“I think that means ‘come with me’!” laughed Wictred.
“You don’t say,” replied Jack laconically.
They covered the ground quickly, and more Zathee moved from hidden places to hold off the Animosh from reaching the underground level. Teresa tried to stand, but whatever the weapon they had used was, it had a debilitating effect on her system. It took all her effort to open her eyes, let alone speak. She gripped Jack tightly.
“We have people at the spire. They are trying to reach the fleet.”
Jack looked at her, and fear reached his eyes as he watched his mother suffering.
“Jack, listen to me. Lieutenant Rossen and her team are there. Help them…”
That was all she could manage before finally passing out completely. Jack wanted to stop, but Wictred pulled Teresa and therefore him along to the craft. The side door opened, and the synthetics helped drag them in. An older looking Helion smiled as they dropped down inside. He wore the uniform of the Animosh, yet carried a bandolier across his body.
“What now?”
The Helion tapped a device on his arm and held it to his mouth. As he spoke, it translated into a machinelike voice, very much like the technology used by the T’Kari.
“We need to place the breacher into the communications grid.”
Wictred listened intently, but Jack was more interested in checking the wound his mother had received. She wore a basic armored gorget under her tunic, but her torso and upper arms were unprotected. With a slash from his issue bayonet, he ripped open the fabric at her shoulder to reveal a hideous looking wound. The impact area was no bigger than his thumb, but a blue web expanded around it like diseased veins. The Helion saw it also and leaned in. His robotic voice explained in a poor but simple translation.
“Animosh thermal weapon, always fatal.”
Jack shook his head angrily.
“No, we will fix this. Now, what about this spire she spoke of?”
The Helion seemed less interested, and instead, spoke to the pilot further inside the craft. The floor shook, and they were airborne and rushing out from their underground hiding place and into the fog ridden sky of Helios. No sooner had they left, and a half dozen A
nimosh Watchers chased after them on their ducted fan bikes. Wictred could see the fear in Jack’s face and reached out to grab the Helion about the throat. The two synthetics on board watched him but did nothing to intervene, as if they somehow understood what it was he was doing.
“The spire, where is it?”
The Helion spluttered but couldn’t speak without the device. One of the synthetics moved closer, moving his fist close to Wictred. For a second it looked like there might be a fight, but he grabbed the translator and held it up to the Helion.
“The spire…yes, it is that way.”
He pointed while shaking from the pain. Wictred used his left hand to pull open the side door. A gust of warm air rushed inside and blew dust in their faces. He pulled on the Helion until he was near the edge.
“You can worry about your device later. First, take us to the spire.”
The Helion hesitated, so Wictred pushed his head out of the side.
“Or you go out of the door. Decide now!”
“Wait, wait…” spluttered the man, though the robotic translator took much of the emotion from his voice, “The spire can be used. It is part of our communication network.”
“Good,” said Wictred, pushing the Helion back into his place, “take us there, now!”
He looked to the pilot and spoke quickly in his own language. The pilot seemed to argue for a moment but finally gave in. The craft banked hard to the left and accelerated with a roar. With the change of direction, the two of them could see the approaching Animosh from the left windows.
“Dammit, they’re close,” muttered Wictred.
It was almost as though the watchers had been listening. Flashes rippled around them as the lead riders opened fire on the shuttle. A dozen thermal rounds struck the metal framing of the craft, and it buffeted and shook from the impact. A stream of black smoke ran from one of the angular wings, and they dropped into a dive.
“Faster!” shouted Wictred.
More rounds blasted the craft, and they were quickly forced down to a height of just over a hundred meters from the ground. At that height, they needed to dodge in and out of the buildings that littered the surface of the Zathee district. The two synthetics moved to the right of the craft and pulled a series of levers. A metal layer slid to the right, revealing a cupola mount. Once done, the first moved to the other side of the craft and stumbled until finally reaching it. A quick tug on the matching lever revealed an identical cupola on the left. He looked at Jack and grunted. Wictred looked at him and then to the cupola.
“Jack, get on the guns. I’ll watch Teresa.”
Jack was loath to leave her, but the rounds continued to strike around their craft, and every few seconds another struck the metalwork. He nodded to his friend and lurched over to the left cupola. He squeezed into the side of the unit and examined the equipment. Handles and a trigger extended inside with a pair of stubby barrels extended out and facing backward. He held the handles and moved the barrels toward the Animosh. One short pull released a stream of pellets, each no larger than a fingernail. His shots were much too high, and they vanished off into the fog.
Right, try again!
This time he remembered the first thing he’d learned as a marine when he was on the range.
Aim low!
The burst struck the front of a large craft that featured four ducted fans. As the front two fans disintegrated under his gunfire, the squad stood on top fell to their deaths. Jack felt nothing for them and simply moved his weapon to fire at the next target. He glanced to his left at Wictred.
“How is she?”
Wictred had already placed an emergency sealant pack on the wound, and it had stopped the bleeding. He looked at him and shook his head.
“No idea. This blue stuff is new. I think she’s going into shock!”
This filled Jack with even greater determination. He swung the gun around to face forward and checked to ensure they were heading for the spire. Luckily for the crew they were, Jack didn’t want to think about how far he was prepared to go if they didn’t do as agreed. He then pivoted back and returned fire on the Animosh. One more of the bike type vehicles crashed to the ground before they broke off and moved to a safer distance away from the shuttle. Shouting from the other side caught Jack’s attention, but it was just the two Zathee synthetics arguing while trying to operate the right-hand gun. Neither could fit inside the cupola mount, but between them they could aim and control it, even if their fire was erratic and wild.
“Jack?” Teresa called out in a weak, almost impossible to hear voice over the sound of their escape. Jack heard her and immediately abandoned his sponson to move to her. Teresa’s face was pale, and her voice quieter than he’d ever heard it.
“Use my…” she reached into her tunic and fiddled about, trying to grab something. She couldn’t stay conscious and once more slipped away. Jack grabbed inside and found the secpad. He pulled it out and held the battered looking device in front of him. It was locked, but he entered his Marine Corps access code and it activated. The last message had been auto analyzed and converted to text. He read it and instantly worked out what had happened.
So, the LT and the others made it to the spire. They must be heading for the high ground to reach the fleet. If we meet them there, we can kill two birds with one stone.
He nearly smiled, but their situation and the prone shape of his badly wounded mother shook him instantly back to reality.
The gun!
He hauled himself back to the cupola in time to see two of the watchers flash past and rake the side of the craft with thermal gunfire. This time they must have hit something important, as they lost height and dropped twenty meters before leveling off. Jack looked around and saw the spire was now no more than a kilometer away. He fired another burst at them, lifted the secpad to his face, and hit the reconnect option. It took a few seconds, but at this range it could burn through the jamming. The face of Thai Qiu-Li appeared, much to his surprise.
“Jack, where are you?” she asked.
Another blast struck the shuttle, and it lurched to the right, dropping down below the top levels of the nearest buildings. The secpad flew from Jack’s hands, clattering across he floor and landing near Teresa. He was forced to grab one of the many emergency straps to stop him being thrown to the wall.
“We’re going down,” Wictred said in his usual laconic tone.
Jack looked out through the tiny slit on the cupola and immediately knew his friend spoke the truth. They were trailing smoke from a dozen holes, and the ground was getting closer and closer.
“Throw it over,” he called out.
Wictred looked down, grabbed the device, and hurled it to Jack who caught it between two fingers. The face of his friend still showed though the top corner had decayed.
“Still there?” he asked.
“Yes, what’s happening?”
“We’re coming to you, and we have company.”
She shook her head in a knowing way, as if it was exactly what she would have expected from Jack. From his position, Jack could see her face, but the background was continually moving.
“Well, we’re going inside on the twenty-fifth floor. There is a walkway that goes up to the top. We should be able to reach the fleet from there.”
Jack nodded.
“Good, we need to let them know what’s happening. It’s a lot bigger than you think.”
She smiled.
“Isn’t that what you tell all the girls, Jack?”
He almost blushed at that.
“Nice. We’ll see you there. I have Wictred and my mother with me.”
Thai Qiu-Li’s face vanished. For a second, Jack felt a burst of an adrenalin rush through his body, imagining something must have happened to her. But the face of Hunn and then Lieutenant Rossen appeared as she grabbed the device from the marine.
“Private, get here fast. You can explain when you arrive. Watch your backs!”
The image cut, and Jack looked back at
his friend who was now helping to load the right-hand gun mount. The Helion defector, who until now had been silent, pulled himself toward the front of the craft and spoke with the pilot before slumping down. He grabbed at the straps, pulling them around him. Jack looked at him before realizing what he was doing.
He’s getting ready for a crash landing!
“Wictred! Get ready!”
The front of the craft lifted up, and the pilot managed to increase height by using what energy was left in their engines and also the forward momentum they had built up. Even so, it was already slowing down and probably not far from a stall. It suddenly seemed to float in the air, neither moving up nor down. The pilot shouted something, and the Helion unfastened his straps and moved for the door. Only when he reached it did he look back and shout into his translator.
“Get out, now!”
* * *
Hunn spotted the shuttle first, reaching out with his left arm to identify it. From the position so far up the spire, they had an excellent view of the surrounding area, but the fog and periodic clouds of pollution had masked its approach until it was barely a hundred meters away.
“I see them,” said Lieutenant Rossen, finding the black trails.
“How did they make it that far?” asked Thai Qiu-Li.
“Easy,” explained Hunn, “Jack and Wictred are on board. It takes more than a few natives on bikes to stop them.”
Lieutenant Rossen looked back at him.
“Bikes?”
“Yeah, like those.”
A flight of five ducted fan riders powered overhead and performed a steep bank to target the shuttle. Even as they moved in, it was clear people were trying to get out onto the platform five levels below them.
“They won’t make it,” said Rossen bitterly.
It was obvious to all three of them, yet only the Lieutenant had wanted to say anything. Streaks from the heated rounds slammed into the shuttle, and chunks of melted metal ripped off from its hull.
“Maybe, maybe not,” muttered Hunn, lifting his carbine.
Star Crusades Nexus: Book 03 - Heroes of Helios Page 19