“We're your kind,” Dahisu said darkly.
“That's not enough. Of all the standards to judge people by, that's about the worst.”
“So why did you come to Pantala at all?” Rishi asked in simple curiosity.
For a brief moment, Sandy had no reply. Damn, she thought. Wasn't that a question. “I don't know,” she muttered. “Maybe I came to save myself.”
A few minutes later, Dahisu and Rishi were replaced by other, silent observers, Captain Wong was even less impressed.
“As theatre commander of Federation operations in New Torah, I order you to desist from this venture.”
“Fleet captaincy gives you theatre command of military operations in wartime,” said Sandy. She was fully in armour now and taking her time with remaining preparations. There was, as Rishi had suggested, no mad rush. “We're not at war, and in peacetime the FSA is not within the Federation FBO.”
“Wartime or matters of wartime potential, Commander…”
“Everything has wartime potential. You're late; I'm commander on the ground; I've never entertained the strategic judgement of orbital armchairs and I won't start now.”
“Commander, you are proposing an assault upon League assets located on a nominally League world over their alleged but unproven abduction of nominally League citizens! You might be able to squirm your way out of current League accusations of acts of war against them, but if you go ahead with this assault you will in fact have violated all the articles of treaty that keep League and Federation at peace!”
“Federation citizens, Captain. Under asylum rules, status pending, Section 48 of the immigration act.” She'd double-checked repeatedly, figuring how she might play it.
Short silence from the other end. “Minors can't claim asylum.”
“They can be granted pending status by ranking Federation officials. I'm certain I qualify.”
“You're not going to violate the treaty over two pending asylum claims who are not yet technically Federation citizens.”
“For someone with no command authority over my decisions you seem very certain of what I will and won't do.”
“When this is over, if you survive, I'll have you up on charges with process to criminal conviction.”
“Good luck with that,” said Sandy. “They're not taking these kids. They'll have a spare, two kids, so if I do anything at all that displeases them for years to come, they'll kill one without blinking and still have leverage. I'll be neutralised as a Federation asset, in which case I might as well die here anyway. Add to which their little brother has something in his head even Cai doesn't recognise, except to say it's certainly pure Talee, and if you want his cooperation in the next few years you're going to need his brother and sister back safe.
“Add to which, these cunts just abducted a couple of kids with lethal intent for nothing more than leverage. I'm going to kill them. If you don't mind.”
She disconnected. Only now did she realise she was shaking. The armour picked up the motion and accentuated, rattling ceramic joints with a sound like hailstones. It scared her to be so scared. She'd rarely been this scared before. But she'd come to Pantala to try to unravel something important, something that had been eating away at her very soul, but that cause was all in bloody tatters and disappointment. Yet somehow, she'd found three kids who'd triggered something inside herself she'd been clueless had even existed. Lose something, find something else. And now the something else was going to be taken away as well.
Poole stepped in front of her, armoured and ready. He'd been playing these other roles lately, musician, medic, child minder, it was almost surprising to see him like this—a combat GI, his truest self, square jawed and armed to the teeth.
“Only a fucking idiot would try this,” he said. “But of all the fucking idiots I know, you're my favourite.”
“Thanks,” said Sandy.
He searched her face. “You tell me it'll work, I'll believe you.”
“That would make you the fucking idiot,” said Sandy.
“I've played the part before,” he admitted.
“Poole, stay here. This is my instinct. Me in a fight, I can vouch for, I can usually figure things through.”
“You have a special affinity with violence,” Poole nodded.
“You in a fight, or anyone else in a fight…I can't vouch for you. Not in this fight, this will be crazy.”
“Read my psych report? I'm good at crazy.”
Sandy smiled and put a hand on his shoulder. “I'm tired of losing friends, Poole.” Her voice nearly cracked.
“Not many things that get me out of bed,” said Poole. “Combat GI never really agreed with me, never saw the point. Got labelled a psych case real early, rather play my piano, play cards…you know I tried gardening once?” Sandy managed a smile, eyebrow raised. “Hydrohelios, nice flowers. Hydrohelios will get me out of bed. Mozart. A friend who understands why I'm me.”
“Buddy, I've no fucking idea why you're you,” Sandy laughed. “But I like you, so I don't care.”
“And kids,” Poole concluded. “Kids will get me out of bed. Pretty sure I don't want any, not like you and crazy Rhian. But if I don't help you get Kiril's brother and sister back…” he exhaled and made a vague, uncomprehending gesture. “Then what's the point? Of me being here at all? Combat GI, all dressed up and no one to blow away? Don't think I'd want to go home.”
Want kids? Her? She nearly protested the thought. But Poole had said it now and…the fear got even worse. She didn't know what was happening to her.
“Cai? You reading me?” She sat in the pilot's seat of the combat flyer, a tight fit in full armour, linked into the expanding local tacnet. Poole sat in the seat before her, similarly belting in.
“Hi, Cassandra.” It was Cai, up on Mekong.
“What have you got for me?”
“Like you suspected, they made a tactical level link from Fleet systems to Droze corporate nets when they went in, to neutralise the ground defences with redundancy backup.”
Sandy nodded, running activation sequences in the cockpit, the engines beginning their low howl. “Via the uplink I've got feed to Antibe Station then down again, that gives me some windows into corporate tacnet…I've been working on it, I think I can buy time past their ground defences, get to the spaceport in one piece.”
“You think?” Poole asked from the front.
“I think you can do better than that,” said Cai. “I've acquired access to a few of your network constructs, I hope you don't mind. But I think your interlink systems are about as close to Talee tech as I've seen. Let's see if you can handle this.”
Sandy waited. Nothing. Handle what exactly? she was about to ask but stopped herself. Whatever other technologies the Talee had, the one that had caused human and Talee kind to intersect was biosynthetic, and in particular neurosynthetic, which related to uplink tech for communications between natural and synthetic neurology and the wider communication nets. From what she'd learned from Vanessa and Ari, what Cai had done on Antibe Station hadn't been a matter of just beating opposing systems into submission with superior technology, he'd unleashed a separate communications construct into the station's systems and diverted information flows from the one onto the other, making them see, hear, and eventually think whatever he wanted.
So naturally anything he did here would involve…she rescanned the networks. And found, in the great walled divide that separated Chancelry occupied construct from the other corporations, a faint anomaly in an access portal that hadn't been there before, the kind of thing that probably only she or someone with similar capabilities, able to process massive data volumes simultaneously, would notice.
A simple touch let her in. And within…
“I'm not prepared to comprehensively infiltrate a League command system for fear of committing an act of war,” said Cai. “But I think it will adequately serve your needs.”
Explosions rattled the ferrocrete walls of Danya's cell. He stared upward in disbelief a
s the pale fluorescents flickered, then rattled again. Then a nearer, heavier boom! and bits fell from the ceiling. And BOOM! directly above, much louder than the rest and everything shook, and for a moment the lights went out completely.
And returned, dull red and ugly, hiding what little detail this storage locker had to show. Danya realised he was crouching, heart hammering, but there was nothing to hide under, the spaceport walls were heavily reinforced, built well before the crash but fearing Federation attack in the war, a League facility it had been then, the departure point for enormous quantities of military hardware.
Boom-thud-thud, the explosions continued. BOOM, the bigger one again, it sounded like an AMLORA, impressive, but it wouldn't damage these bunkers much. Who would be firing AMLORAs at the League-occupied spaceport? The corporations? Upset that League Fleet had dropped in on their turf? But they must have agreed to it in the first place, he knew they had defences against aircraft or spacecraft, for League to come down without getting shot at the corporations must have agreed to it—and besides, everyone was talking about how the corporations had caved and snuggled up to the hated League as soon as the Federation arrived.
Svetlana would say it was Sandy come to rescue them, but that was stupid. Sandy wouldn't commit all those resources just for him and Svetlana. Sandy was a soldier, an important one, and important soldiers didn't waste effort saving a pair of nothing kids. He'd told her that before they'd been separated, but Svetlana refused to listen, said Sandy would come for them, he'd see. He wanted to be with her, wanted to smash through these walls with his bare hands, she needed his guidance or she'd do something stupid trying to help with a rescue that wasn't. Yelling out to Sandy, who wasn't really there. Oh, God, she was going to get herself killed.
“Hey!” he yelled at the steel door. “Hey, out there, I want my sister! Get me to my sister, we'll be easier for you to guard if we're both together!” Now that you're under attack. Surely they'd figure that logic? Because the attack sounded pretty bad.
Boom boom, more AMLORAs, this time landing farther away. But the other explosions had stopped. Danya pressed his ear to the cold door, hoping the vibrations of further fighting would travel through the metal. Sure enough, he could hear thuds and feel impacts on his cheek.
And a heavy clank as the door opened, and he retreated as a League marine came in, armoured with weapon slung like she'd just thrown it over her shoulder in haste. He was grabbed without a word and pulled in a crouch running down the hall—his hands were bound in tight plastic cuffs, and every time he pulled against them they tightened painfully. The power here was emergency red as well…
“Get to supply junction!” the woman pulling him shouted at another marine who appeared in the far doorway. “Supply junction move!”
Into the next corridor, and there were several more marines running to intercept. “How'd they get in?” one asked.
“What's it fucking matter?” the woman snapped. “Get it deployed and shut it down. There's just a couple of them!”
“Tacnet's all screwy, coms are down…” Danya was thrown against a wall as they covered at a corridor junction. “I can't reach Beta and Delta, it's like there's interference…”
“Audio!” said the woman. “Radio backup, we can hear them at least.” As someone fiddled to reset their coms. “This whole complex is reinforced, they can't blast through walls like the usual GI trick; they gotta come at us head-on, we can blast them with straight firepower.”
Danya gathered himself against the wall, gasping breaths, wondering if he should make a dash for it…stupid, he concluded, there was no cover, and marines in armour were even faster and stronger than marines without armour.
Sounds came from one of the marine's helmets…audio, Danya realised, as they switched from tacnet to regular coms. Thumps and explosions, other marines yelling. Someone was in a firefight.
“Baker!” the woman shouted. Danya noted the chevrons on her armour—three, that made her a sergeant. “Baker, it's Leung! Sitrep!”
And a reply, amidst a lot more thumping and a lot of yelling, then some screaming.
“Baker!” Static. “Baker!”
“Oh, man,” muttered one of the others. “GIs, it's fucking GIs.” Because when your buddies were all shooting one moment, then all dead the next, it was the only answer, and all soldiers knew it.
“It's not just GIs,” said Danya, sensing his chance. “It's Kresnov. Let me and my sister go or you're all dead.”
It got him grabbed by an arm and dragged painfully through the next doorway. “This is Leung, pack and trap the junctions! She can't go through these walls, block her in, grenades and explosives, use indirect fire and blast round the corners, if you're waiting for line of sight you're already dead!”
It couldn't be Sandy, Danya managed to think past the agony of a wrenched shoulder as he was dumped this time at the edge of a minor hangar bay, small maintenance vehicles awaiting some larger aircraft to service in the adjoining main hangar. He could use the fear of Sandy against these soldiers, but he didn't believe it. It didn't make any sense, it went against every lesson, every life experience he'd ever learned. No way was it her, unless he and Svetlana had somehow become important in some way he didn't understand?
Marines covered the space, firing positions crouched behind the vehicles, behind a big maintenance loader, Leung herself crouched at Danya's side, tight to the wall. On her audio Danya could hear other marines talking, shouting, and crackles and pops that might be shooting. BOOM! went the AMLORAs overhead. Why were they doing that, when they couldn't hit anything? Distraction? Making noise to draw attention from the assault down here?
They wouldn't bring him and Svetlana together, he realised, brain churning in frantic overdrive. That would give whoever was attacking a single target—easier to defend maybe, but that wouldn't bother GIs. Better to spread them out, make it complicated…the attackers wouldn't know exactly where he and Svetlana were…only, dammit! He was being stupid, making the mistake of thinking he and Svetlana were the targets! Of course they weren't, why would a couple of street kids be…
“Let me and my sister go,” he tried again. “It's your only chance.”
Because if anyone could be persuaded, it was now, before the real state of affairs became apparent, and just how worthless they both really were. Leung's faceplate turned on him abruptly and she levelled a weapon at his head.
“Kresnov!” she shouted. “Kresnov, this is an all frequency output. I know you can hear me! Stop now or I kill the boy! You hear me? Stop now or the boy's dead!”
Over her audio, the shouts and yells continued.
“She can't hear you,” Danya snarled. “She's not stupid. She's got everything turned off so you can't threaten her. You can kill me, but if you think she's angry now, wait until she finds me dead. She'll kill you slowly.”
Svetlana had told him how she'd threatened that to Treska, who'd once been their landlord. But with Svetlana watching had made it fast instead. Leung certainly thought it was Kresnov. Was she fooling herself, or…?
“Just pumped a fucking shitload of explosive down the B Central access!” someone was shouting on Leung's audio. “Nothing can survive that!”
And more adrenaline overload cursing and hooting in the background. “Fucking got her, man!”
Then yells, swearing, and panicked gasps of soldiers hitting the deck—not the same group, but someone else under sudden attack, and Leung yelling, demanding to know who this was because with tacnet down she didn't know who was talking when or where…
“You didn't get her, you fucking fools!” someone else was shouting. “You blocked her and she went around you, now move before you're outflanked!”
Leung looked back at Danya, weapon trembling. At least, Danya thought as he looked up the dark barrel, if they killed him first, it left Svetlana as the final bargaining chip. And if it was Sandy, as they seemed to think it was, they wouldn't dare kill Svetlana because then Sandy would have nothing to restrain her at
all. And that could get seriously nasty. If it was her. If it was.
“Klimentou!” There was real fear in Leung's voice now, the pistol shaking. No, her whole arm was shaking. Danya had always been scared of the powerful people with the big guns. Seeing one of them so frightened her armour was audibly rattling was a revelation. “Klimentou! Oh, dear god.”
Another unit, Danya guessed. Wiped out in seconds. Danya was grabbed once more and dragged not toward the open hangar but back the way they'd come, into the narrower hallway, others of Leung's soldiers moving ahead to clear the way…and disappeared in a flash of smoke and fire.
And shrapnel, Danya heard it ripping around him, then shooting and armour tearing as he fell, blinded, something wooshing past, huge impacts and simultaneous shooting, bodies falling, a faceplate caved in, another with an arm snapped the wrong way, another slammed back-first against a wall as a rifle was slammed into the neck ring and heavy rounds unloaded. Slid to the ground, blood spurting.
Another armoured figure crouching beside him, but not to threaten nor to check or comfort, as he stared up through the smoke and stench of explosive and scorched metal…one arm dangling, armour torn in places, reloading rapidly with just the one functioning hand.
“Danya, help, can you get some grenades?” Sandy's voice. He couldn't register what that meant.
“My hands…” She moved fast, he felt a pressure on the cuffs as he struggled up, then a snap and they were gone.
“Grenades,” she repeated. “Don't bother with magazines, just grenades, follow me but don't move fast, I'm going to try and link with Poole and Svetlana.”
And she was gone, possibly limping but gone so fast all the things he had to ask her were gone as well, where was Svetlana, who was Poole, what the hell was going on…but she needed grenades and the next thing he was scrambling for them, on the bodies of marines alive and breathing and talking just moments before, now…barely even human. A head was missing. Leung's body, kicked into a wall with such force the chest was all caved and the arm nearly severed, like she'd been hit by a train.
Cassandra Kresnov 5: Operation Shield Page 12