Steel Storm (Steel Legion Book 2)

by Casey Calouette

  "I heard they shot a guy in Fox Company," Vinovy said.

  "Bullshit," Puck said.

  "I heard it from a guy in Supply, he said they got a requisition for a coffin," Kallio said.

  "What'd he do?" Puck said.

  "Killed a civilian," Sergeant Mick said.

  "How'd they shoot him?" Bosovitz said. "Firing squad?"

  "The Old Man did it himself," Kallio said.

  "No way? The Colonel did?" Puck said. His voice was filled with disbelief.

  Tomi listened to the banter. He liked Colonel Clarke. The Colonel was quiet most of the time, but when he talked everyone listened. He was the sort of boss Tomi liked. He'd give you all the rope in the world; it was up to you if you hung yourself with it or pulled yourself up.

  "You good, Tomi?" Mick said.

  "Yes, Sergeant."

  "Right. We're moving out in five minutes."

  Someone banged on the back hatch.

  Puck pressed the external speaker. "Nobody's home!"

  Tomi looked behind him. The rear cameras showed Commander Arap standing next to a supply truck. "It's the Commander!" Tomi yelled.

  Puck opened the hatch. Commander Arap stormed into the tank. He swaggered in and halted in the center of the crew compartment. "Nobody's home, eh? Well, then nobody can unload that ammo. Move, move!"

  They all ran out and heaved a crate of small-arms ammunition into the compartment. When they came back in, Arap was sitting down and eating someone's dinner.

  "Save that ammo for the Emflife," Arap said. He took another bite of sausage and kept talking. "Half squad loads standard, other half loads FEP."

  "What's FEP, sir?" Mick said.

  "Frangible explosive penetrator. You hit 'em square on and whammo, they fuckin' pop."

  "Change jar, sir?" Vinovy said. He held out a half-full jar to Commander Arap.

  Arap gave him a funny look. Then he stuck his hand inside and pulled out a single credit. "Thanks!"

  Vinovy blushed and put the jar back against the bulkhead.

  Arap stood and handed the half-eaten sausage to Waslinski. "Here we go! Get ready to move out! Oh, and those rounds ain't got much accuracy. Ya gotta be close." Then he left, and they sealed the hatch.

  ***

  It was, of course, impossible to depart in an orderly manner. The officers were too eager to fight, the soldiers too eager to remain in the protective positions they'd labored over—but the mission required it.

  The Sixth Light Infantry moved into place behind them. Some of the soldiers cheered, others bent over without pants on. Though in the end they discovered that the 19th ACR had left a few rather smelly deposits in the prime sleeping areas.

  The first issue was the dust. Normally, plow trucks ran hourly and kept the roads clear. Now, though, the dust built up from a thin layer of silt and turned into drift after drift of soft, tank-swallowing gunk. The first tanks were stuck a kilometer out. The entire time, the regiment waited to be fired upon.

  They passed through the wreckage of the mechanized giants without bothering to stop. There was nothing of interest left. Next they passed a few burned-out Emflife tanks. These were a bit more interesting, but they didn't have time to spare. Finally they found dead Kadan troops half-buried in the silt. All appeared to have been killed by shrapnel.

  They had a high-speed aerial photo to gauge troop positions. A wing of bombers had tried, and failed, to hit the invaders. Though one had managed to survive long enough to show a massive troop concentration near the outgate complex. Strings of armor, construction equipment, and columns of troops all moved away from the gate.

  Determining where they were headed, and when they would strike, was the task of the 19th ACR.

  The first mine they encountered blew the tracks off of a supply transport. The entire unit halted, and no one dared move. The wind whipped over the landscape, and rocks poked out, making it seem like mines were everywhere.

  A few of the tanks were equipped with mine-detonating equipment, and they rolled to the front. The rest of the unit broke into four columns and followed in the exact tracks of the leading tanks.

  The entire time, everyone was on pins and needles. The darkness weighed heavy, even with the enhanced spectrum. The dust rose and settled with each breeze. Soon they were past the killing grounds and into the low hills.

  Still, nothing fired at them. They continued on, avoiding the main road and cautiously heading toward the ancient pillars. The sky was a dull haze with pinpricks of stars poking through.

  They rolled on deeper through the low hills. At each draw they avoided the accumulated silt. The lead mine-clearing tanks pushed through and only saw a few detonations.

  Instead of finding the enemy, they heard a distress call far in the distance. It seemed someone had survived the assault on the Squire outgate.

  Colonel Clarke listened to the scratchy radio transmission. He pulled up a map and studied the route. "Close," he mumbled. "Almost."

  The facility that the survivors were at was just outside of the area he wanted to recon. It was off to the side of the pillars, but, still, it might get him a good enough view. He listened once more and sketched out the new travel route.

  He keyed up the company commanders. "All right, change of course. We're going to go on a flank and rescue some survivors. Set the new route as follows..."

  #

  Chapter Sixteen

  Planet Terra, Sol System

  Order of Terra HQ, Belize

  Paul was waiting in the hall with red eyes. He stepped into line with Umi and the pair walked in silence.

  "You knew her?"

  "She was my wife."

  Umi swallowed hard. "I'm sorry."

  Paul nodded. He handed Umi a pendant. It wasn't the same one as before; it lacked the tectonic crack. "I'm keeping hers. But this one is yours; we reprogrammed Atli's for you."

  Umi squeezed it in his hand.

  "Irena believed in the Vasilov a lot more than the others did." A smile crept across his face. "Called them our warrior brethren living on the frontiers."

  Well, that's one way to describe them, Umi thought. "Wilhelm doesn't believe in the Vasilov?"

  "They're not a united nation. Until what, forty years ago, they were shooting each other over petty feudal disputes. Feudalism. Why do you think the Emflife chose to strike there?"

  They walked through a set of doors and went across a skywalk. The air was both hot and incredibly humid. Far beneath the walkway, lush greenery struggled skyward. Then, just as quickly, they were on the other side and into the air conditioning.

  "Ugh, makes you miss home," Kelly said.

  "Belize is rather warm this time of year," Wilhelm said.

  They met Rachel inside of a sprawling cargo area. Dozens of men, women, Lokeen, and even some of the spider-aliens worked, preparing and packing. She walked through rows of laid-out equipment and sealed stores. "Hellooo! Sorry about that earlier, but you know how it goes!"

  "You could've asked nicely," Umi said.

  Rachel stopped and shook her head. "Bodies don't move. Someone always wiggles."

  Vaughn squatted down next to a row of equipment. "What is all this?"

  "They in?" Rachel asked Wilhelm.

  Wilhelm nodded.

  "This is our recovery equipment."

  Vaughn hefted a glove for a spacesuit. "We're going to need some training."

  "You're the security team," Rachel said. "Your gear is over there."

  In the far corner was a set of black boxes laid out separately.

  Wilhelm and Faizal departed with the Lokeen and Ken-Ashi, but the little spider-alien remained.

  "I've never seen your kind before," Vik said to it.

  "That's Bill. We encountered the Opoolio at about the opposite end of human space from where you're from," Rachel said. "They haven't had the same issues about fighting the Emflife that the others do."

  "It's been a mutually beneficial agreement," Bill said.

  "He's our techni
cal expert," Rachel said.

  "You can build a starship?" Vaughn asked.

  "Glory, no!" Bill said. "But we're quite good at tearing them apart and stitching them into new ones. We're not much on the ground, but we held the Emflife advance with a little armada of half-repaired starships."

  Rachel waved them to follow. "Main goal is to get a working starship. But barring that, we'll strip out the stardrive and fit it into our own."

  "We don't have starships," Umi said.

  Rachel pushed open a door.

  They went outside into the stifling heat. Sweat poured off them almost immediately. A wide, black ribbon rose into the sky; arrayed around it, far above, was a ring of starships. They were brilliant white in the afternoon sun and shone like stars.

  Rachel grinned. She wiped the sweat from her face. "They're our best shot yet."

  "God, it's hot," Vaughn said. "Why don't the Ken-Ashi tell us how to make more?"

  Bill said, "They don't know how. Nor do the Emflife. The stardrives came from an older species."

  Umi remembered the data core he'd acquired on the forbidden planet. After fighting off the Emflife they acquired an alien data cube and traded it to a Ken Ashi who decoded Irena’s pendant. That key knowledge saved the Vasilov Worlds.

  A loud crash sounded from inside, followed by swearing. Someone yelled out, and others yelled back.

  Rachel rolled her eyes. "And now you get to meet Captain Toro."

  Inside, an overweight man in an ill-fitting uniform kicked at the rows of gear. His thin hair was plastered to his head by sweat. He stumbled and fell before trying to stand once more.

  "You stupid fuckers. Where's my gear? Nobody touches my gear!" Captain Toro stood and wobbled. He looked indignant, overbearing, and raw. He saw Rachel and clumsily crossed the warehouse.

  Rachel waited with her arms on her chest.

  Umi knew a drunk when he saw it. Not a fancy chemical drunk, but the old-fashioned, ethanol kind. The man was sloppy, and Umi didn't like sloppy.

  "Rachel, someone stole my gear. These, these"—he waved an arm wildly—"people have stolen from me!"

  The staff working around the warehouse continued doing their jobs and glared at the drunk. Umi had a feeling that this was a regular occurrence. Vaughn nudged Umi and made the international drinking motion.

  "You loaded it yourself last night, Horace." Rachel motioned toward a row of vacuum-rated cargo containers.

  Captain Toro chewed on his lip. The smell of alcohol wafted off of him. He looked suddenly aware of Umi and the other Sigg. "That's Captain Toro, if you please!"

  Captain Toro stomped past them and opened one of the containers. Then, with a satisfied look on his face, he stumbled back. "Very well. I'll be in my quarters, studying our plans."

  Rachel gave him a slight nod. "We'll call if we need you."

  Captain Toro left the hall.

  "So you're going on this daring mission, with this massive team, a huge investment, and you're bringing him?" Kelly said.

  "Yup."

  Kelly broke into a grin. "C'mon, what's up with that?"

  "He's the one who knows where we're going," Rachel said. She walked a dozen steps and then turned. "We're leaving tonight. Get your gear sorted."

  Umi nodded and looked back at his team. "Well, let's see our new toys."

  ***

  Each crate contained a rack of weapons, each still encased in a protective sheath. The first crate was handguns, the second rifles, and the last contained heavier weapons. None were models the Sigg were familiar with, though a gun is gun.

  Vik peeled off the sheath and took a deep breath. "I love that new-gun smell."

  One by one they disassembled the weapons and then carefully put them back together again. They commented on various parts of the design, but overall there were no surprises. The design for weapons had been honed long ago.

  The ammunition, though, offered more variety. There were rounds designed for vacuum, rounds designed to punch through armor, and rounds designed to not punch through anything. They tucked them away, sealed the crates, and took a nap.

  Except Vaughn, who was like a kid in a candy store. He wandered the rows, studied the equipment, and generally enjoyed being an engineer. As each case was loaded, he pestered the technicians and staff.

  They woke and stowed their cases last. The crews stood in groups, chatting.

  Vaughn pointed to one group. "That's the salvage team. EVA experts and such. Those"—he pointed to a different group—"are the research scientists. And they"—he pointed to a smaller group—"are the support staff."

  Captain Toro burst through the door.

  "And there is the drunk," Umi said.

  Rachel followed in a minute later with Faizal at her side. They both steered clear of Captain Toro, but the drunk found them.

  "Transport is coming shortly. We're headed up to Luna first. Make sure you have your documents. For those of you who need to shop for clothing"—Rachel gave a nod to the Sigg—"Luna will be your chance."

  The Sigg were all in need of a few changes of clothes.

  Captain Toro stepped in front of Rachel.

  She rolled her eyes and stepped back.

  "Today is when we embark on an epicness adventure, for our sons and daughters and those who came before. Now"—he stopped and covered his mouth while he burped—"we go forth into the stars."

  Everyone grabbed their gear, but Toro kept talking.

  "It was ten long years ago that I, me, was the first starship captain. Somber. Somber. Sad day. But now I, we, have a new chance."

  Captain Toro started to speak again, but Rachel cut him off and started clapping loudly. Everyone else joined in as well.

  Umi gave a few weak claps and watched Rachel. He was glad he didn't have her job: steering a crack team of experts while dodging the ramblings of an idiot drunk. He chuckled a bit as Toro caught the cue and gave a bow. If they wanted a starship bad enough to trust that idiot, then they were all in for an adventure. But if they trusted him at all, that meant the information must be good.

  The warehouse doors creaked open. Humid air blew in, and the stars were barely visible though the haze. The shipyard hung above them in low orbit like a glowing white beacon. Transport loaders showed up a minute later and latched onto the cargo containers.

  "Let's go!" Rachel said.

  "Last time we took a trip..." Vaughn said.

  "I know, I know," Umi replied.

  ***

  They set off into the night and boarded a transport tube. The air was almost brutally cold compared to the outside. Condensation pooled beneath the windows.

  Kelly couldn't stop sneezing. Someone told her she was allergic to the summer pollen.

  When they arrived at the stargate facility, security teams were waiting. The entire group was herded past the standard embarkation area. After a short walk, they exited right next to the stargate. The cargo containers were already waiting.

  The gate crackled and hissed and then popped open. Gantry loaders pushed the containers through to where a significantly lighter gantry grabbed it on the Luna side. A sign flashed LOW GRAVITY above the stargate.

  Umi followed through and realized that he had virtually no experience in a low-gravity situation.

  He and the other Sigg bounced about like idiots until they finally collided with the padded far wall. They grasped onto soft cloth loops and read a short note about how to walk on the moon.

  Bill the Opoolio bounced by and carefully careened away, using his slender legs.

  Umi guessed by the grubby handprints that they weren't the only ones to have had this problem.

  "Keep moving!" Rachel called to them.

  The gantries pushed the cargo containers into a holding area.

  Umi bounded over to Rachel and fell in step with her. The movement was extraordinarily awkward.

  "We've got to wait an hour, so we're headed to the sky bar for a drink."

  "Toro's idea?" Umi said.

  "We h
ave to work with him, and I'd appreciate it if you didn't push the issue."

  "Sorry," Umi replied.

  "Get a feel for this. If we run into trouble at the recovery site, it'll be in low or zero gravity."

  The sky bar was a touristy joint with buried deep with live feeds from the surface of the moon a kilometer or so above them, though it was all laid out to feel like it was really on the surface. The team spread out and relaxed. Captain Toro stayed at the bar, hooked his feet into his chair, and regaled anyone who would listen about his exploits.

  Umi skipped a drink, grabbed a few changes of clothes to replace the ones he’d lost, and then practiced moving in zero-gravity. The rest of his team followed suit. It was an odd feeling to move and bounce like he did. It felt slow at first, but he realized it was his body getting used to it. He could move quicker, as long as he could respond quicker. Sweat poured down his face and he bounded toward the bar.

  "Now on Regalis, you have to watch out. No really, you do!" Captain Toro said to a bored-looking tourist.

  The bartender took Umi's credit stick and came back with a sealed bottle of water.

  Umi leaned his back against the bar. He bit open the bottle’s tip and stared out at Luna and Terra. The view was amazing. There it was, the birthplace of mankind. Darkness spread on one half with strings of light laid out like lace. He was so close, and he'd barely had a chance to visit. The rising lines of the space elevator twinkled in the daylight.

  Pinpricks of light exploded on the edge of the horizon. Shock waves of white blistered into the atmosphere as clouds expanded away. Two of the elevators disappeared.

  Someone screamed.

  Captain Toro turned away from the bar. "The shipyard!"

  "Everybody move! We're transiting now!" Rachel yelled. She waved toward the door while she spoke to someone on a commset. "Now, now!"

  Umi let the bottle of water float to the floor. He watched for a second as more explosions detonated on the edge of the horizon. He felt a deep resentment rise inside of him, an anger that anyone would strike Terra.

  "Move, goddamn it!" Rachel yelled at Umi.

  He bounded across the room and fell in at her side.

  They both raced down the hall as quickly as they could. The entire time, she talked on her commset and tried to get the stargate open now. Finally she keyed it off. Tears ran down her cheeks. "They hit the shipyards. They're gone. All of them. Emflife assault frigates came in and destroyed them. Our defense batteries took them out, but it was too late."