by Black, Alan
Cuffs said, "I know what they have in the FO. It can't run a triangulation. I mean Buzz is smart and could probably budge things together, but I don't see how he can put it together without a 3c914MTc module in their comm gear. Hey! We've got a spare across the hall. We could get someone to run it up there."
Forrester raised his hand, "I can do that, Chief. If you just get someone to show me what is the 3C9er thing is."
Brown nodded. "That works for me.” She pointed at a pair of young spacers. “You two run the man across the hall and make sure he gets to the flight office. Then shag your asses back here. Hey! Take those." She pointed to a couple of weapons lying on a desk by the hatch.
The spacers picked up the sunburners, short blunderbuss-like guns with a large bell-shaped opening. They were non-lethal incapacitating weapons. Officially, they were TVOTs, (pronounced Tee-Vots) or temporary visual obstruction tools, because they shot a blast of broad-spectrum light temporarily blinding an opponent. Unofficially they were sunburners because of their obvious after affects.
The two spacers cycled open the hatch and stepped into the corridor. Marshal Forrester pulled a needler out of his shoulder holster and stepped through the hatchway while checking the magazine for load. A torrent of needler fire almost cut the two spacers in half. Forrester took a hit high in the shoulder. He managed to use the momentum from the shot to spin himself back into the intel office and crash to the deck.
Brown bellowed. "Everyone duck and cover. Weapons hot. Clancy, freeze!" She stopped the woman from jumping into the corridor. "You can't help those two and you can't help me if you get yourself killed. Get armed and get on that hatch. You and you, back her up. Don't lock down yet."
She looked about the room. "Cuffs, do what you can for Forrester. Don't argue with me. I know you’re not a medic, but you’re all he’s got, so do something."
Brown looked down and saw that her .45 semi-automatic pistol had jumped into her hands of its own accord. She flicked the safety switch off as she stepped to the vault hatch. Exposing only her arm, she pointed the gun down the corridor and rapidly boomed out half a dozen shots. After the quiet pfft of the needlers, the mini-explosions of the gas propelled slugs fired from the handgun echoed off the metal bulkheads causing everyone in the room to jump. Stepping quickly into the corridor and taking a classic shooter stance, she pumped the remaining dozen rounds into the retreating backs of a small group of security forces. Only two made it to the corner to retreat to relative safety.
The slide mechanism on the .45 shot back in the open and locked position. Brown calmly thumbed the magazine release button dropping the empty clip to the deck. She expected to hear it clang as it hit the deck when she slammed a second clip into the magazine, but the expectant clang didn't happen. She fired two shots into the metal bulkheads near where the retreating security forces had fled. The glass bullets made a satisfying 'whang' as they ricocheted off the bulkhead. Without turning her head she said, "Clancy, watch my six. You other two, watch the eleven and one o'clock positions."
When the three were in place she looked down. The spent clip hadn't bounced on the metal deck because unbeknownst to her, Brown stood straddle-legged over a spacer’s body like a mother bear protecting an injured cub. Her face twisted in a bear-like grimace of rage. Both of her spacers were obviously beyond help. Not bothering to suppress or hide her tears of grief and fury, she reached down and patted each lifeless body on the head. She tried to find the words to tell them how sorry she was, but the words choked in her throat.
The hatchway across the hall opened a crack. She could see of her intelligence spacers. They had been sleeping in the room. Both had hidden under the bunks when the shooting started and had warily opened the hatch a crack to look out once the shooting stopped.
With a strength that belied her age, Brown grabbed the bloody bodies by their utility uniform collars and dragged them out of the corridor into the newly opened room. She dumped them unceremoniously in the middle of the deck. "You two get your butts into the office. Now!" Following the two, she stepped back into the corridor. Shooting a questioning look at Clancy, she received a shake no in response. No one had poked their heads around the corner, so she waived the other two spacers back into the intel office, leaving only her and Clancy exposed. Clancy looked nervous, but held her ground with fierce determination.
Brown’s command voice bellowed and echoed off the metal bulkheads, "All right, you sons-of-bitches! Speak up now or forever hold your piece, because I will hunt your asses down to the last man."
A voice answered, "Chief Brown? Is that you?"
"Who the frak do you think it would be, you pinhead? You storm into my corridor, blast away at my people, and you expect someone else to be here? Who the hell are you? Speak up, dammit, before I come down there and send more of you punk-ass security cretins to eternal damnation."
"Tech Sergeant Wilkins, Chief. Hold your fire? Can we can check our wounded?"
"Let them frakking bleed to death, Wilkins. What are you doing shooting at AMSF people? And don't shout at me around the corner. Step out like a man with balls instead of a thick-minded stobor in jerk off mode."
"Okay, Chief. Don't shoot. I'm coming out, okay?” The man spread both hands wide and stepped around the corner. “I'm unarmed, see?" He glanced behind him and motioned at someone out of sight to put their gun down. "Hells bells, Chief, your guys startled us and all, jumping into the corridor with those sunburners at the ready. It was just a reaction. I hope they're okay?"
"They're dead, Wilkins. Who else have you got with you?"
"I have just one other guy. He’s an FNG, a frakking new guy named-"
Brown interrupted. "I don't want to know his name. That way if I kill you both I only have to remember your name in my prayers. Get the FNG out here to check on your people. Do it now, Wilkins!"
Wilkins desperately waved the new guy into the hall and pushed him forward to check on the still bodies before him. It was easy to see, even for non-medical people, that none of the security forces had survived.
The FNG said, "I think they're all dead, Sergeant Wilkins. What do we do now?"
Looking at Wilkins, Brown said, "Yes, Wilkins. What do you do now?"
Wilkins said, "I don't know, Chief. I never saw anyone dead before."
"What were you doing in my corridor?" Chief Brown asked.
“Major Chang said there was a mutiny on board and we were to clear the corridors of all personnel."
"Major Chang?" Brown asked.
"Yeah, Chief. And he said to be armed and on our toes because hostiles were trying to take over the ship."
"So, Wilkins, your idea of clearing the hallways is to shoot first?"
"Oh damn, Chief. It's like I said, they just jumped out all armed and everything. We didn't mean to kill them. It just happened."
The FNG said, "Yeah, besides Chief, if you guys aren't with the mutiny, why are you armed? Hell, you shot at us."
"Shut up, son," Brown said quietly. "If you don't say another word to anyone except your lawyer you might not hang for mutiny or get a lethal injection for murder."
Wilkins turned pale, "Come on, Chief. Mutiny and murder? We were just doing what Major Chang ordered us to do."
He turned even paler when Brown said, "Major Chang is part of the mutiny, so what would you get for aiding and abetting, Wilkins?"
"Dammit, Chief, all I know is the officer in charge of my section tells me what to do and I went and done it. Now I'm sorry for your guys, but I am loyal to the AMSF. Frak no, I am not involved in any mutiny."
Brown shook her head, "Where the hell have you been all day, Wilkins? Don't you know what is going on around you?"
"Um, well. Me and the boys here, um…got into a batch of homemade pruno and, well, I guess we got a bit shitfaced. I didn't know anything from nobody until a little bit ago when the Major found us and put us on duty. Look Chief. I know we aren't supposed to get drunk on deployment, but we weren't on duty or nothing. If you report t
hat, then my career is screwed."
Chief Brown shook her head sadly, "Drunk on deployment is the least of your worries, you idiot. You better heed the advice I gave your young friend to shut up and talk to no one except legal counsel. The two of you clear this corridor and put these bodies in that room with my men. You will both submit to my authority and confine yourselves with the bodies until I say different. Got me?" Both men, very subdued, nodded and began moving the bodies. "Leave all weapons on the decks." She told the men.
Brown called to Clancy over her shoulder. "Okay, pick up all of these weapons and get everyone inside the vault. Call Buzz in the flight office using the secure phone."
From inside the intelligence office, Cuff’s called out, "Hey, Chief. Forrester’s hit pretty bad. I got the bleeding contained, but I think we gotta get him to sick bay pretty quick."
"Can he walk?"
Forrester answered. "Yes, I can walk."
Cuffs replied, "Maybe."
Brown didn't want to leave the intelligence office to get the man to sickbay. With Buzz in the flight office that would leave Clancy in charge. Not that she had any problem with putting Clancy in control. She was a sergeant, a fine supervisor, and she could keep things in line. The truth be known, Clancy was probably better with people than she was. Someday she might even make a great officer. But, at this juncture in Clancy’s career, she didn't have as much experience as the Chief did, and if something went wrong, she didn't want to leave Clancy catching the short end of the stick. More than anything, Brown was loathe to send any of her people into a hostile situation. If security was patrolling the corridors, more of her people could get killed. She knew she would have to go herself.
Wilkins stood up after helping move the bodies and said, "Let me help him, Chief. I know it won't erase my screw ups, but maybe I can help get him to sickbay."
Chief Brown nodded. "Okay, Wilkins. You’re with me, unarmed and technically under my arrest. Cuffs, get everyone back on the comm boards and intel monitors or get quiet and stay out of the way. Let's get back to business."
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Misha looked around at her team. Na'aranna and Raza stood next to her. Everridge and Lamsa were huddled in a corner. Ethica Kelly and Bear Cutler were sitting quietly but alertly with their backs against a bulkhead. Across the corridor, she could see Lamont and Ottiamig peering out the hatchway of a room holding the two-man teams of DeLaPax and Metzler, Steinman and Qualls, and Oberman and Ramirez. It was a large corridor designed for engineering use, for hauling huge machines and components back and forth to the various shops along the hallway. It was easily five meters wide and just as tall.
She pointed a finger at Lamont and crooked it to her. She held up four fingers and pointed to her feet, saying nothing. Since she hadn't worked with Lamont before she was not certain he would understand her hand signals. But, she was sure if she called out, her voice would carry far enough down the corridor for Bravo Squad to hear. Even if she spoke softly and her voice didn't carry, they could be using enhanced eavesdropping equipment. It didn't make sense to broadcast her intentions. Her team would be open in the corridor and vulnerable to gunfire.
Lamont waved a hand behind him and stepped into the hallway. Most men would have ducked and sprinted across the corridor, but Lamont patted Ottiamig on the shoulder signaling him to stay put and sauntered as if strolling through a park, except that he held a needler poised in each hand pointing down the corridor in either direction. He paused briefly in the center and sent a hail of needles showering Bravo's position. During which time, Able Squad Trooper Four DeLaPax darted past him. He calmly continued his stroll across the corridor and into the room. The return hail of fire, including the blast of a low-yield grenade, narrowly missed him.
He said without smiling, "You called, Third?"
She gave a low whistle to get everyone's attention and pointed at Tree and Greek. They came over to her and waited quietly. "Kelly and Metzler, on the hatch. Watch both directions." She called across the hall to Ottiamig, "Tuamma, get someone else on the hatch with you. Watch both ways." She stood waiting while Ottiamig turned and spoke to someone in the room. In a flash, Oberman appeared next to him, dropped to one knee and peered studiously back up the corridor. She would have preferred to let everyone in the squad know what was going on, even if it only meant broadcasting to them over a squad comm unit frequency, but the jamming made that all but impractical. She would have to rely on her veterans to fill in the rookies as they went along. "Greek, blast us some white noise to cover our conversations. Furthermore, see if you can get an enhanced ear on any talk coming from up or down this corridor."
"Roger that, sir," Greek replied, his eyes glued to the glass-pack and fingers dancing across the small pad.
Everridge added, "He’s too modest to say so, but he has already been listening down corridor to Bravo Squad. We’re not getting anything much from them except the general 'get off my foot' kind of stuff."
Misha smiled. "Good initiative. We need to conceal our backsides, covering our own talk and listening up our six, also."
Everridge nodded, "Yes, sir. Guess I didn't think that far. That must be why they pay you the big bucks."
Lamsa looked sheepish and elbowed Everridge in the ribs.
"Oh, and Greek wants to know if we can bring Tammie on board with some of the communications work. She’s been hovering over our shoulders at every opportunity all day. We might as well show her some tricks of the trade, you know?"
"Tammie?" Misha looked confused.
"Yes, sir. Sorry," Everridge replied. "I mean Able Squad Trooper, what is it… Ten? Tammie Qualls, your communication tech? You know, Jigsaw? The rookie you have teamed up with Bear Cutler. She’s one of the most eager rookies I’ve ever met. She constantly wants to learn more, once she got over her being nervous about screwing up. I've got to tell you, she had an extensive comms background with the Heaven's Three Police Force, but she’s still hungry to learn everything we have to teach."
Misha shook her head. "I’m an idiot, guys. I guess I don't know my own people well enough to know their first names yet. Sorry, everybody, I can guarantee that by our next op, I’ll have my own scoobies together.
"Not to worry, boss," DeLaPax smiled. "I’m sure Jigsaw won't be offended. Like Tree says she's a good kid. For that matter, even with this patched up squad we got a better team than I ever saw under Third Cans."
Misha nodded, "Okay, Tree. You commandeer Jigsaw whenever you can. Keep in mind that I don’t want to lose any gun hands. We’re all APES here. Comms is secondary, got me?"
A chorus of ‘roger that’ rang out.
Lamsa raised a finger and nodded. "White out affective."
Misha said, "All right, team. We seem to be in a stalemate here. We can't get into engineering and they can't get out. We can snipe at them and they take potshots back at us until there isn't anybody left on either side. Their defensive position will cut us to shreds if we rush them. The same thing happens to them if they rush us. Input?"
Immediately Tree spoke up. "First off, I have more bad news. It’s very hard to tell from what comms we are able to pick up, but we caught a scrap of information leading us to believe another squad of APES is moving in this direction. Our only guess is that it’s either Foxtrot or Kilo."
Misha frowned, "Doesn't matter which, either one will chew up our backsides while Bravo Squad claws away at our front. Other input? None? Okay, first: Tree, can you and Greek find some way to shut off the lights along this section? And I mean, without permanent damage to the Kiirkegaard? It’s our only ride home, remember? Oh, and go ahead and tap Jigsaw for on-the-job training."
Lamsa nodded vigorously, but Everridge only shrugged and said, "Can try to get the lights out, Third."
"No," Misha ordered, "Can do. Get to it. Here's what I need from everyone else." In short order, Misha had everyone lined out and moving into position. She moved the point of her ambush back up the corridor taking most of her squad with her. She
didn't want to leave too few troopers to defend against any possible outbreak from Moraft's Bravo Squad, but she didn't know how many APES were in the force about to slam into her from behind. She combined two teams, giving Raza nominal team command over Kelly and the rookies Oberman and Ramirez. She left them as the cookies or the bait with instructions to sound like the whole squad was still in place. But, with only four troopers, they would also have to hold back Bravo Squad if Moraft tried to break out. They would be desperately short handed if something went wrong and anyone got past her ambush.
Misha could hear the soft pfft of a needler spitting out its glass shards and the whiney ricochet as they bounced off metal bulkheads. She heard shouts when the return fire bounced back. With all the shouting and banging about the four were making, she would have thought a whole third-level command was in place.
She divided the remainder of her squad into two groups. One group consisted of troopers Metzler, Steinman and Ottiamig under the leadership of DeLaPax. They were placed in a room a long way up the curving corridor toward the oncoming APES and out of sight. She admonished DeLaPax that under no circumstances were they to spring the ambush until everyone had gotten past them. Otherwise, her small team could be quickly overwhelmed.
Misha placed herself and the remainder of the ambush team about midway between Raza's team and the curve. She had the majority of her veterans with her, believing she would be bearing the brunt of the oncoming force. If Raza's team failed to keep Bravo Squad bottled up, Misha's group would be sandwiched between two opposing forces.
She looked around for Everridge, Lamsa and Qualls, but they were not in sight yet. Unfortunately, there were no rooms or even alcoves in this part of the hallway. Her team was huddled behind the few chairs and boxes they had found. Nothing they had would stop any serious weapons. She spread her people out as much as possible in case anyone had more grenades.
Her three teams were far enough apart they couldn't see each other, but the curve would also eliminate friendly fire casualties. Misha still had room to back her team up if pushed by the oncoming force, but she didn't want the reinforcements to get close enough to shoot into the backs of Raza's team while they worked to contain Bravo Squad. More importantly, she could not afford to have the two squads hook up or let any reinforcements reach Moraft.