The Battle for the Solar System (Complete Trilogy)

by Sweeney, Stephen

  As the servicemen and women armed and prepared themselves, skybikes swept over the square, the riders firing upon the targets below. They raced across the open area, completely unchallenged during their first run, slowing and looping around as they hit the opposite end, starting another run.

  Potter whistled and waved two people over.

  “What the hell are those?” Dodds said, looking at the large oval objects they carried with them.

  “Portable shields,” Estelle said.

  “Shields?”

  “Give them those,” Potter instructed.

  The man and woman complied, strapping the devices to Dodds’ and Chaz’s left forearms, before Dodds had a chance to say otherwise. It was quite heavy, not enough to weigh him down, but enough to make an impact on his movement. The man who had fitted it to him flipped a switch on one side and the oval object was filled with a luminous blue sheen, as if it was suspending some sort of liquid within its interior.

  “Right, that’s a shield,” Potter said, his voice taking on a practical tone. “Works exactly like the one on your starfighters, but just not as strong. You use it like you’d expect – just hold it in front of you and it’ll deflect direct fire. Right you four – fall all the way back and keep yourselves out of the line of fire.”

  “To where?” Dodds said.

  “That way, towards the museum building.”

  “We can help,” Dodds started. He saw the shield strapped to his arm as something invaluable to the defence of the allied troop.

  “No! Now, go!” Potter said, shoving Dodds in the direction he wanted them to run.

  Dodds felt Estelle grab his hand and start to tug him away. He saw Chaz point Natalia ahead of him, indicating that he would cover both of them in their retreat. Dodds tested the weight of the shield, before allowing Estelle to take the lead.

  As the four ran, Dodds saw that all about them troops were snatching up their weapons, making calls on radio equipment and running to join Potter. The few troopers soon built to a great regiment. It was like running in the opposite direction to a panicking crowd, trying to dodge people left, right and centre. Dodds felt Estelle’s grip on his hand slacken and then she let go altogether. He glanced over to the woman as they ran, and nearly collided with a soldier running in the opposite direction. At the same time, he heard a female voice behind him give a cry. He looked back, to see Natalia flat out on the ground. He couldn’t see Chaz anywhere. He thought the big man was covering her! He had to go back!

  He had just started when he heard another cry. Estelle! Though he had successfully avoided colliding with anyone himself, Estelle had been hit full on by one of the largest men he had ever seen. The huge man tottered, before realising what had halted his advance.

  “Sorry! Sorry, Esthelle!” Dodds heard him say, before he skirted around the fallen woman and continued onward, towards where Potter and his squad were tackling the army of hostile forces. Dodds watched him go, running around the still-grounded Natalia. She looked up at him, and though her blonde hair was covering her features he could see that her teeth were gritted and her face was contorted in pain. He wasn’t sure what had happened, but she must have suffered a terrible fall. He started over to her, then glanced over at Estelle. She, too, was looking at him, appealing for assistance.

  Dodds suddenly found himself torn. He should help Estelle, his long-term friend, wingmate and former lover. But he should also help Natalia, the person who had guided him through the city and helped him to survive the past twenty-four hours.

  Just as he wondered for how long the logic part of his brain was going to draw out this decision, he saw a pair of thick, black arms wrap themselves around Natalia and hoist her off the ground, ignoring the cry of protest.

  “I’ve got her!” Chaz shouted to him. “You help Estelle!”

  Dodds waited for the three soldiers that were thundering between him and Estelle to pass, before he hopped quickly over to his commanding officer and started to help her up. “Are you hurt?” he said.

  “Dizzy,” Estelle answered, wobbling slightly as she got to her feet. “Bloody idiot, Smith!”

  “You’ll be okay in a second.” Dodds steadied her, looking around at Chaz and Natalia. The big man was holding Natalia upright, bent down slightly so that her arm could more easily get around his shoulder. Natalia was hopping, her face still pained, focused on the ground where she was going. It looked like she had either very badly twisted her ankle, or it was broken.

  “Dodds, don’t wait for us! Just keep going!” Chaz said. But Dodds waited, nonetheless. He wanted to make sure that both Estelle and Natalia were safe. However, after only a few more metres, Natalia began to protest against the pain in her ankle. Chaz swore, then said, “I’ll carry you.”

  Natalia shook her head. “You won’t be able to hold me and the shield.”

  “We’ll hold up here for a few minutes,” Dodds said, lowering Estelle to the ground and moving around her with the shield. He knelt down, holding it in front of both of them and observing the fighting beyond. From here, he could just make out where Potter was taking cover.

  The exchange of fire to and from the brigadier’s barricade was growing exponentially, as more and more of the black-clad soldiers poured down the road towards them. Like Potter’s squad, they took cover behind whatever they could – burnt-out and wrecked vehicles; masonry and rubble; and other members of their number, who pushed forward, carrying with them the same luminous blue shields that Dodds and Chaz held.

  Potter could be seen backed up against a barricade. He tossed the rifle he was holding away and scooped up another one. He looked like he was being quite indecisive about what kind of weapon he should be favouring to attack the enemy. He then appeared to spot the big man who had knocked over Estelle – Smith, she had called him – and waved him over. The stout solider bounded to the brigadier’s side and there was a brief exchange. Dodds couldn’t be certain of what was being said, but it looked as though Potter had ordered Smith to go and fetch him something.

  Potter turned to someone close by – it looked like Dillinger, the comms officer he had instructed to issue the descriptions of Kelly and Enrique – and began shouting at him too, pointing in the direction of the Imperial soldiers, and up the street towards where he, Estelle, Chaz and Natalia had stopped. The comms officer went to work as Potter peeped over the top of the barricade. In their black suits, it could be difficult to see the enemy. The glow of their red eyes helped. Potter only had time to loose off a few rounds, before he had to hide himself once more. Dodds could imagine that there was barely any time to aim properly. Optimal use of a magnified scope required movements that were far too fine to be properly applied from Potter’s position. Like the others in his unit, most of the shots that he fired flew harmlessly past the enemy, striking their cover, the surroundings, or the portable shields.

  The skybikes were still buzzing around the sky above the square like flies, trading gunfire with those on the ground as Potter’s team made a vain attempt to either knock them out of the air or hit the riders sat upon them. Several of the bikes formed close to one another, ceasing their fire and sweeping quickly over an area of the square. The bikes then climbed high, turning down a street and out of range of the allied fire. Dodds saw people moving fast, leaping the barricades and abandoning their positions, fleeing the area the bikes had passed. He realised, moments later, the riders’ purpose. The expected series of explosions followed, catapulting people, concrete and all else in a number of directions.

  “We need to move!” Chaz prompted. “Can you walk?” he said to Natalia, who was still massaging her ankle. She gave a nod.

  Dodds looked to Estelle, “Ready?”

  “Ready.”

  “Let’s get going,” Chaz said.

  “All the way to the museum?” Dodds said.

  “Just out of the line of fire,” Chaz said, raising up his shield and making moves to continue on down the street.

  Dodds raised his own, glancing
back into the square as he prepared to follow Estelle and Natalia. The advancing wall of Imperial soldiers were still coming, the ones at the front taking full advantage of the seemly impenetrable shields.

  Smith then reappeared, darting between the various stacks of cover to come up next to Potter, who was continuing to fire snap shots at the enemy units. The stout man was carrying something long and pipe-like over his shoulder. It looked like a rocket launcher. Behind him, two people followed, carrying a large, rectangular container. There was yet another brief exchange and the container was opened, Smith quickly loading the weapon.

  Dodds slowed, eager to witness what was to follow.

  Though their cover was far from the most ideal position to aim, Smith still succeeded in loosing a rocket with commendable accuracy. It sped through the square, slamming into the ground just before the advancing wall of soldiers, apparently achieving the exact effect Potter desired. Though they had tried to scatter and avoid the warhead, the force of the blast bowled many off their feet. A follow-up round from Smith struck one of the shield bearers head-on, and Dodds witnessed what appeared to be a great spray of body parts sailing through the air. At that point, one part of him wanted to turn away from the scene and continue moving. The other remained perversely fascinated.

  Then, above the noise of shouts and fighting, he heard something else, the sound of engines. From between the remains of two building rolled a pair of tanks, heading straight into the Imperial shield bearers, who Smith had set into disarray. The heavy vehicles ploughed over the men and women at full speed, crushing those that were still on the ground. Dodds saw limbs disappear under tracks, ruby-red eyes flash for an instant, before they vanished from sight. Bones snapped, heads popped. The tanks then reversed, appearing to deliberately run the bodies over once more, like a rolling pin flattening out dough. They then moved forward again, chasing down those that had initially escaped, serving them the same fate as their allies.

  Dodds felt his stomach turn over. “I’m not sure that’s the correct application for armoured vehicles,” he said.

  “They’ve got no ammunition,” Estelle said. It appeared that she, too, had paused in their flight, to witness the result of Potter’s actions. “They used it all up during the previous encounter.”

  Dodds caught Potter’s eye; the man was looking directly at him. The brigadier conversed once more with Smith and his comms officer, then leapt up and sprinted down the road towards the four. “What’s the hold up?” he panted, angrily. “Didn’t I tell you four to fall back?”

  Dodds opened his mouth to respond, but Potter cut him off.

  “The museum is a little further up the road. Let’s go. Yes, I’m coming with you. Now, move!” He shoved Dodds once more and the pilot began running.

  Dodds remembered seeing the museum on his way over. He couldn’t be sure what had made Potter choose to take cover there, but he had no better suggestions himself; anywhere was better than the square. Halfway up the road, he saw Estelle and Natalia stop running and look skyward. Lights were breaking through the blanket of black smoke, lights attached to a multitude of Imperial troop transports, which began to descend rapidly and settle on the ground. Dodds’ heart leapt into his throat as he saw the doors open and a great number of black suits come rushing out. In setting down, the transports had obstructed the road, sealing off the most immediate route to the museum. And yet, more were arriving. Some of the soldiers were not even bothering to take the time to land, thick rope issuing from the craft and allowing them to rappel down to the ground. The street was totally blocked. Dodds had a feeling that the same would be true of other roads leading into the square. They were surrounded!

  “Back to the square!” Potter shouted. “Keep those shields behind you!”

  The group retreated, Dodds holding the shield behind him as best he could while running. It was a hobbled, stumbled run, his legs threatening to tangle together and bring him to the ground.

  As they drew closer to the square, the heavy sound of grinding and scraping metal pulled Dodds’ attention away from the freshly arrived soldiers. He saw the rear end of one of Potter’s tanks begin to turn. It didn’t look as if it was acting under its own steam. Abruptly, it overturned. The top hatch opened as the driver attempted to wriggle free, before the tank’s assailant made itself known. A thick foot crashed down upon the exposed belly of the tank, crushing it as if it were made of nothing but cardboard. The foot belonged to a Spider. The hulking mass was pounding its way around the square, spraying the gathered Territorial Guard with gunfire. A host of red eyes followed in its wake, more than Dodds had seen in his life.

  The group stopped moving and Estelle fell back to Dodds’ side. Dodds swung the shield around, no longer sure where to point it. Every side suddenly seemed exposed and vulnerable.

  “Mark our backs,” Chaz prompted, stepping forward and holding the large oval device before him. Dodds did so, the two men sandwiching Estelle, Potter and Natalia between them. Where to go? Where to run? Dodds was convinced that they were surrounded. He could hear the cries of the Territorial Guard around him, more desperate and anxious than they had been before.

  Behind him, Potter was cursing loudly. Dodds then heard the man’s comms device pop.

  “Potter,” the brigadier answered.

  The voice that came back was hard to hear and Dodds could make out few words. “Brigadier … situation bad … losses … Milligan, Stafford … dead …”

  Potter interrupted at that point. “Repeat that last sentence!”

  “We’ve lost Milligan and Stafford, sir,” the voice came back in a small moment of clarity. It sounded bad.

  “Estelle?” Dodds said over his shoulder, seeking answers to the identities of the people named.

  “Major Stafford found us on the beach; Milligan was their best sniper,” she said.

  Hell. Things truly were taking a turn for the worse. For just a moment, Dodds allowed the shield he held to dip ever so slightly. There was a cry and Potter clutched at his side. Blood was leaking from a wound somewhere around his hip. An instant later, Dodds caught sight of a thin sliver of bright red and Potter fell to his knees, crying out again.

  “Laser!” Potter managed. By the look of it, both shots had passed straight through him, more or less in the same location.

  “Dodds, reposition yourself!” Chaz cried.

  He did so immediately. Odd. Why not go for the head? Dodds thought.

  Potter began patting around his belt. He then swore loudly and pointed a bloodied finger out towards something on the ground. “Get it! Get it!”

  Dodds’ eyes flew to what Potter indicated. Only metres from where the group stood, lay what looked like a grenade. Four white lights illuminated its side. A fifth lit up moments later. Dodds knew instantly that when it hit eight, it would explode, if not sooner. He started forward, intending to boot it away. A strong hand grabbed hold of him, pulling him back.

  “No!” Chaz shouted. “It’ll blow your leg o—”

  There was a blinding flash as the device exploded. Dodds felt a tingling sensation wash over him, as if he had suffered a very mild electrocution. A few moments later, he became dimly aware that the level of gunfire from the allied forces had almost ceased, only the bangs of pistols and shotguns filling his ears. “What’s happened? What’s going on?” he said.

  “Mag grenade!” Chaz said.

  Dodds swore and looked back to the device clipped to his right arm. The shield’s interior was no longer filled with the blue luminance that it had once been; it was now hollow once more. Though he was familiar with the effects of the mag grenade, he nevertheless shook the shield and flipped at the switch on the side. Nothing happened. He looked about in shock. The electromagnetic wave had cancelled out all the electronics within a vast area, dampening all energy weapon fire. Ammunition counters on conventional weapons no longer glowed. Radios, radars and other communications systems had also apparently been hit. Soldiers were casting aside weapons and flipping up
their monocles, appearing shocked and glancing about for the source of the impairment. Dodds swallowed. The shot had been intentional – the grenade’s effective range had not run as far as the enemy forces. And with their plan a success, they capitalised immediately on their advantage, raining down fire on the crippled allies with renewed gusto.

  “Get to cover!” Potter shouted.

  Dodds didn’t move. He had no idea where to go, and neither, it seemed, did Chaz, Estelle or Natalia. To remain in the square would mean staying in the path of the Spider. But the roads leading away were clogged with hoards of Imperial soldiers, who had them hemmed in.

  As the Spider stamped onward, Dodds became aware of bright lights covering the square. They were streaming through the blanket of smoke above. The Imperial soldiers paused, shifting backwards and pointing their weapons upward. Dodds had a bad feeling, as if the sudden silence was leading to something. There was a thunderous discharge from above the lowlying clouds and a thick green beam lanced its way earthward.

  It looked like the beam of a plasma accelerator! Here? At this range! At the sight of it, he felt himself move automatically, following Chaz, Estelle and Natalia to the debris of a large fallen statue, flattening themselves down behind it. Where Potter had gone, he couldn’t see; but it was too late to worry about that now. He shielded his ears against the noise of the discharge and the deafening roar of the devastation that followed. The beam churned the road up, the concentrated plasma cutting through it like cheese wire, driving itself towards the Spider tank that lay directly in its path. The Spider wasn’t so much cleaved in two as diced into eight or nine parts, the main body being torn apart, the legs ripped and sliced from their joints and fixtures. The shields the enemy soldiers held offered the bearers no amount of protection, their bodies obliterating in a flash of hot ash.

  The tremor that went hand in hand with the attack gradually subsided, and for a while Dodds thought that he had either gone deaf or that his eardrums had been greatly damaged by the event. Then the sound of voices began to return. Gunfire was still present, but only in modest quantities. Eventually, the group emerged from their hiding place, in time to see a huge vessel descending. A great lander touched down on the ground, the thick landing struts crushing the stone and concrete it settled on, flattening it out to suit its needs. A short time later, the rear ramp extended, clunking down heavily onto the ground, the rear doors sliding apart. A number of soldiers, dressed in CMI fatigues, appeared at the door and inched their way down the ramp, guns swinging this way and that, marking targets. Hands went up from the soldiers on the ground, voices keen to identify themselves as friendly.