by M. D. Cooper
The response was quick and angry as expected.
“What are you playing at SK87. Your platform is the property of the people of Sirius and you are contractually bound to it. You will open your main bay for our shuttles to dock at once.”
Markus picked up the comm handset with both hands, praying no one noticed the slight tremor he couldn’t suppress.
“Negative, patrol ship, by our calculations our people paid back their transit debt seven hundred and twenty-six years ago. In the intervening years we have paid for this platform and are, in fact, owed a steep remittance for our labor. We’d prefer to be paid in Sol credits.”
Katrina stifled a laugh as he switched off comm.
“I wonder if anyone has ever told them that before?” she asked.
“First time for everything,” Markus forced a smile.
“They’re launching two boarding shuttles,” scan called out. “Looks like one is headed for the main bay, and the other for the north bay airlock.”
“Can we make good on our threat to shoot them?” James asked.
“Negative,” scan replied. “Not all our weapons got mounted and they picked approaches where we’re wide open.”
“I should get to the main bay,” Katrina said. “I’ll direct the crew at the north bay lock to prime their charges and detonate as soon as the outer hatch is opened.”
Markus nodded grimly. “Good luck.”
With the rushed departure there were a lot of steps in their insurrection that the crew of the Hyperion had not managed to complete. One of which was to complete the various computer overrides necessary to completely lock the shorts out of the platform’s control systems.
One that was proving to be more difficult than expected—short of destroying it entirely—was removing remote access for the main bay doors.
As Katrina approached the main bay’s control shack she called into the techs frantically working on the bay door’s software.
“Let it be,” Katrina advised. “We’ll deal with them once they get in. We could use another ship,” she added with a wink.
The Hyperion’s main bay was just over a hundred meters deep and three hundred wide. Two smaller tugs rested on cradles on each side. Just inside the main lock between the bay and the rest of the platform, stood two dozen of the platform’s newly formed militia.
Katrina knew she’d find Sarah leading this group and nodded to the other woman.
“I expect that they’ll settle their shuttle on the main platform.” Katrina said by way of greeting.
Sarah nodded in response, her eyes boring into Katrina’s.
“We should take up positions behind those tugs and under the deck plates there, and there,” Katrina pointed to several maintenance hatches.
“They’ll be too close; the shorts’ll take anyone in that position out in seconds.” Sarah shook her head. “We should ambush them in the corridors.”
“If we do that it will be too late. They’ll have a foothold on the ship and they also may lase us right through the bulkheads. We have to take them quick and by surprise.”
Katrina looked around at the militia, many of whom she recognized after spending so many months on the platform. She singled out four of the men and women who she knew had young families.
“You four, take up positions around the main hatch. Take a couple of pot-shots at them as they disembark and then run. It’ll focus their attention forward and then give them a false sense of security when you run. That’s when the rest of us will attack.”
Katrina looked at Sarah who slowly nodded. She could tell the other woman may not like her, but understood why Katrina picked thoes four individuals for the diversion. Perhaps she’d win her over eventually.
Katrina split the rest up into the sharpshooters who would take up positions behind the tugs, and those with less accurate, close range weapons, who would hide under the deck plates.
While the people of the Hyperion knew for some time that they would likely fight a battle on their decks, there had been no way to properly train them in combat. She had to hope that the vids and desire to free their home would be enough.
“Remember,” she cautioned the men and women. “It’s close quarters in here. It’s going to be terrifying and confusing. Pick your targets carefully. Don’t shoot wildly; the last thing you want is to hit a friend.”
Her words were answered by solemn nods and sidelong glances. Sarah nodded to the militia and they moved to their positions. Katrina took up a position on the heavy equipment maintenance shed. It was in a corner of the dock and its roofline was above any lines of sight from where the boarding craft would disgorge its soldiers.
She would only get a few shots off as the assault transport’s weapons would make short work of her position once they had a lock.
She unslung the slug thrower she had smuggled onto the station several months earlier. It was a brutal weapon and not the sort of thing any civilized combatant would use, but it would keep as many of the Hyperions alive as possible.
The external bay doors began to open scant moments after the last of the fighters slipped into cover. Katrina found herself holding her breath, and forced a slow exhale. She eyed the four fighters at the dock’s main hatch. They held their weapons securely, but Katrina could see their nervousness in the twitch of a finger and subtle shifts of position.
“Hold steady,” she whispered to herself, wishing—not for the first time—that the Hyperions had Link technology.
The assault craft was the size and model she had expected, it held between six and ten lightly armored soldiers, likely under the command of a lieutenant. A pair of pilots would stay with the craft and man its weapons.
Before it had finished settling into the cradle the ramp was lowering and four soldiers jumped to the deck. On queue the four Noctus fighters at the dock’s entrance took a few shots before retreating into the corridor, using the bulkhead for cover.
Only one shot hit a Luminescent solder. It was a good shot, center-mass, but the force was absorbed by the advanced armor the soldier wore. A second later, several more soldiers had spilled from the craft and Katrina saw all but one of the fighters disappear from the dock’s hatch.
“Go, move!” She whispered to herself.
The Noctus fighter was too late, a solder fired, his shot true and a figure fell forward through the dock’s hatch, face slamming into the deck plate.
The soldiers responded as Katrina expected. Believing the Noctus had retreated, they fully deployed from the assault craft. She held her breath for a second, praying to whatever gods may listen that Sarah took the cue.
She sighted along her rifle’s holoscope and let a long breath escape her lungs. As the last wisps of air passed her lips, the Hyperion Militia burst from beneath the deck plates, and, gods bless them, began firing without asking for quarter.
The soldiers were flanked and their ranks nearly collapsed under a concussive blanket of pulse rifle fire. Their armor took the brunt of the attack, but two fell in the initial volley from the militia. Katrina didn’t give them a chance to regroup and lined her sights on one of the soldiers at the front of their formation. The command raced from her mind to the rifle and it fired the slug.
As though she had simply sent a signal to a bomb, her target’s head exploded. Pieces of burning metal, brain, and bone slammed into three men behind the soldier. Two of them went down, and the third stood screaming, trying to tear his helmet off—a difficult task with a piece of his teammate’s skull protruding from his visor.
Katrina took a second shot, killing a man on the flank—this time with no collateral damage.
Moments later the remaining Luminescant soldiers threw their weapons to the ground and Sarah led half her squad into the assault craft to subdue the pilots.
Katrina didn’t wait for report of their success, she saw the ship’s upper turret begin to turn toward her and dropped from the roof of the maintenance shed, sliding down a ladder and rushing across the dock toward the mi
litia and the relative cover of the assault craft.
Two women were smashing the point defense lasers on the front of the craft, and four others had surrounded the remaining soldiers. The rest were losing their lunch off to the side of the cradle.
Katrina sent a message over the platform’s meager Link to Operations.
Sarah walked down the ramp with the two pilots at gunpoint, wearing a grin so large it almost wrapped around her face.
“Nice work, Sarah,” Katrina smiled, hoping to gain some points with the surly woman. “Markus tells me that the other assault craft is making for the south service bay.
Sarah’s expression turned serious. “Sven!” she called to the leader of her second squad. “Stay here and lock these asshats down, Katrina and I will take second and third squad to take care of their friends.
They jogged out of the bay to the sounds of the remaining militia stunning the captured soldiers before they stripped and cuffed them.
Katrina thought she knew the platform well, but Sarah led them through a twisting maze of passageways, some so narrow they had to pass single file.
“These aren’t all on the official blueprint,” Katrina commented at one point.
“Noticed that did you?” Sarah replied with a smirk. “Good to know you didn’t ferret out all of our secrets.”
Katrina decided not to respond; it seemed like she still had a way to go before she wasn’t one of them to Sarah.
Weapons fire greeted them before they reached the dock and Sarah raised the leader of the squad defending the bay on her comm unit.
“We’re pinned down! We couldn’t stop them from getting the bay doors open without blowing them. We’re trapped behind the port-side maintenance crane.”
“We’ll get you out of there,” Sarah replied and broke into a full run, Katrina trailing behind with the two squads.
“How many of them are there?” Katrina asked.
“A dozen at least. The ship is firing on our position too, but they haven’t pulled out the big guns yet.” The response was accompanied by the sounds of a man screaming in agony.
“Sarah, split the squads up between the two entrances. Is there another, less well known way into the bay?” Katrina asked.
Sarah nodded. “If you go into the dock master’s office there’s a ladder up to a service hatch that gets you onto an observation deck. Not as much cover, but maybe you can get a shot or two off again.”
Katrina nodded and pulled up a station map. The route Sarah described overlaid her vision and she took the last few twists fast enough that she slid into the bulkheads.
Her work as an infiltrator required her to have far fewer modifications and physical enhancements than most in Luminescent Society. Normally she didn’t mind. She had earned a respect for how the Noctus worked with pure biological bodies. However, today she wished she had taken the agency’s suggestion that she take a few mods in case of emergency.
The service hatch was just where Sarah said and Katrina climbed onto the narrow observation walkway. Below her she could see the assault craft resting unevenly in the bay’s center cradle. Four of the soldiers were working their way toward the beleaguered militia who had been guarding the bay while the remaining eight had taken up positions defending against Sarah’s troops who were firing from the two entrances.
Katrina lay prone and checked her magazine. She had three shots. With the cover the observation catwalk offered she would likely not get a second. She looked through the holo sights and prepared to fire into a group of soldiers.
A second before she squeezed the trigger she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. She shifted her scope and realized that the assault craft’s main turret was about to fire down the corridor into Sarah’s people.
She shifted her weapon, took aim and fired one slug and then a second into the turret. The ship’s gun exploded in a shower of sparks and shrapnel.
Below, several of the soldiers looked around for the new source of weapons fire and one spotted her, likely marking her position on his HUD.
Katrina considered her options. Chances were that she wouldn’t be able to fire the slug thrower again in this fight. Getting back through the service hatch would take precious seconds she didn’t have. A glance down told her that jumping would hurt, but there would be cover.
She rolled off the edge of the catwalk twisting in the air and landing behind a row of tool chests. There were some spare parts and tools scattered on the floor and her right foot came down sideways on one.
The snap told her that something in her ankle was broken a moment before the pain set in. Luckily the ability to dull pain was one mod she had taken—in case of capture and torture.
She put it from her mind and drew her sidearm while gingerly moving to the end of the tool chest row. It was certain that one or two soldiers had been dispatched to secure her location.
The small pistol was normally used for stunning, but it also contained a high velocity flechette cartridge and she flipped the toggle to that mode.
Ahead of her, the barrel of a gun peeked around the corner; the end of the weapon pivoted, trained on her. She fell to the ground as a pulse wave blasted above her, numbing her back. The soldier must have thought his shot hit her as his leg stepped forward.
Taking aim, Katrina fired a flechette at the back of the soldier’s knee, where the armor was weakest. With a cry of pain, the soldier, a woman by the sound of her, fell to the ground. Katrina sighted for a moment and then fired a second shot under the woman’s chin, another weak spot.
The woman’s thrashing turned to twitching and Katrina scrambled forward to secure the rifle.
Just as her hand settled on the grip, a voice called out from behind her, “freeze!”
Katrina pivoted, bringing her new-found rifle to bear on the voice and found a soldier standing two meters from her with his rifle trained on her head.
“Go for it, fire that shot,” she could almost see the man’s smirk behind the mirrored face plate. Any Noctus attempting to use a Lumin soldier’s weapon without first disarming the genetic safeties would lose their hand—if they were lucky.
Katrina shrugged. “OK.” She fired the shot and the man fell backward. She pulled herself upright and fired three more pulse shots into his face. If he wasn’t dead, he would wish he were.
She pulled herself up to peek over the tool chests and saw that several more of the soldiers were down, but Sarah’s reinforcements still were still pinned down in the corridor.
She moved back toward the assault craft, looking for a good position to apply flanking fire. A large barrel filled with scrap metal looked to provide good cover and she crouched behind it, using the rifle’s pivoting barrel and holo sights to line up on a soldier from the back.
Several shots later and the soldiers were scrambling to find cover while under fire from three sources.
“Surrender!” Katrina called out between gritted teeth. The pain dampening mods weren’t working as well as they were supposed to. She worried it was much more than a simple break.
Through her sights she saw asoldier throw down his weapon and raise his arms in surrender. Moments later, they all followed suit and she called out. “Move toward the corridor. Slowly!”
Sarah’s militia moved into the bay and began to secure the soldiers. Katrina hobbled around the barrel she had been using for cover and waved an arm in greeting before taking a moment to glance down at her ankle.
A piece of steel jutted out from her boot and she chuc
kled softly, “I guess you’re why this hurt so much.”
Sarah trotted over with four of her fighters. She directed them to secure the assault craft and gave a grudging smile to Katrina.
“I guess I owe you one. When I saw that turret pivot toward the corridor I thought we were done for.”
“Think maybe I’m crew of the Hyperion now?” Katrina asked—straight to the point.
Sarah’s cheeks reddened. “I have been kind of an ass to you, haven’t I?”
“No more than I deserved. I haven’t always been on the right side of things.”
Sarah nodded silently, her smile dipping for a moment and Katrina suspected she was wondering what things she had done in her years as a spy for the shorts. A moment later it was gone.
“That’s in the past,” she said and reached out to clasp Katrina’s shoulder.
The pressure caused her to shift and Katrina sucked in a painful breath as her ankle shot through with pain.
Sarah looked down.
“Holy shit, that doesn’t look like fun.”
“Not especially, no.”
Sarah pulled Katrina’s arm over her shoulder. “Let me get you over to the medic.”
Half hour later, Katrina hobbled into operations on crutches. A brief flash of concern raced across Markus’s face before he schooled his expression.
“Wow,” James called out. “I thought it was just a minor injury.”
“It was,” Katrina responded as she worked her way up the stairs to the command ring. “Unfortunately the medicine allowed the Noctus isn’t much to speak of. I have some dormant med nano that I’ve initialized. They’ll replicate and get it fixed up in a day or two.”
“Until then you’re pretty much benched,” Markus said.
Katrina threw a sweet smile his way, “you’re just going to have to settle for my brains with my body in recovery.”
Dmitry choked on his coffee and James barked a loud guffaw.
“Thanks,” Markus muttered. “That’ll garner me so much respect around here.”
Katrina patted him on the shoulder and sat in a chair with as much grace as someone in her condition could muster.