Sixteenth Watch

by Myke Cole

  Oliver burst into the cockpit, shocked to find how much it resembled one of her own rhinos. Apart from the Chinese writing on the hatches and instruments, Oliver was fairly certain she could have flown the thing herself in a pinch. McGrath was standing over the corpse of another sailor, his helmet shattered by what Oliver guessed was his hornet gun’s butt. A second was backing into the bulkhead, his hands in the air. Okonkwo kept him covered with his duster while Pervez pulled the restraints off her belt, adjusted them to fit the biosuit’s narrower wrists, and moved to secure him.

  “That’s it?” Oliver radioed the team.

  “Looks like it,” Chief said. “They were here to deliver troops to the battlefield. Skeleton crew was all that was left.”

  Pervez looked out the window, jerked away. “Boss! We’re about to have company!”

  Oliver raced to what she assumed was the fire control system. She tapped what she hoped were the right buttons, pulled back in frustration. “Jesus Christ, it’s all in Chinese!”

  Ho pushed her gently aside. “I’m shocked, absolutely shocked, to find Chinese writing on a Chinese vessel,” he said. “What do you need?”

  “I want control of the ball turret on top of this monster.”

  Ho scanned the controls. “Uh, this is… simplified Chinese. I can’t read it.”

  “What, at all?”

  “Hang on!” He hit a button. “I think I just put it on manual control?”

  “Good enough,” she said. “McGrath, get up there on that… whatever fucking gun they have up there.”

  McGrath nodded, turned toward the ladder to the turret, stopped. “What do I do with it?”

  “What do you think you do with it? Shoot the enemy!”

  A moment later, Oliver could see the streaking tracer fire rushing past the port side windows, the PLAN Marines there scattering as their own boat’s weapon was turned on them. One of the other PLAN boats had completed its turn and Oliver could see its own autocannon turret swiveling to direct fire on them now that the Chinese knew their vessel was taken.

  “McGrath!” Oliver radioed. “PLAN 12-pack port beam one hundred yards. They’ve got a bead on us!” The tracer fire ceased, and then a moment later started again, arcing into the PLAN boat, the rounds punching through the windows and the starboard side bulkhead, flipping the vessel onto its side and sending it rolling. It tumbled into one of the PAP’s surface-rovers, knocking that vehicle on its side, its massive knobbed tires spinning uselessly up at the lunar sky. A less competent gunner might have tried to target the boat’s turret, but McGrath knew that if he wanted to stop the threat, that meant he had to stop the people. Oliver watched as he put a few rounds into the rover for good measure.

  “Nice shooting!” she radioed him. But she could see more PLAN boats detaching from the assault, turning toward them.

  “I dropped the emergency inner hatch seal!” Okonkwo radioed, backing away from it. “I’ll go see what the propellant situation looks like. Might be we can drive this thing too… aaaaand they’re already cutting.”

  Oliver turned to see the sparks and bright blue flame of a PLAN cutting torch as their marines started to cut their way in. “McGrath! Keep that turret working! Everybody else, cover down on that hatch!”

  “Boss!” Ho said. “That’s not…”

  There was a flash and one of the front windows fell inward. Ho shouted before cutting his radio, tumbled backward, smoke rising from his hardshell.

  Oliver turned to see two PLAN Marines on the boat’s bow, already making their way inside. Oliver raced to her XO, raising her duster, afraid to fire for fear of catching him in the wide-pattern blast. One of the PLAN Marines raised a slim gray tube and Oliver threw herself down as she saw another flash, rose, scrambling to get her duster into her hands. Ho was already up, moving stiffly. Stiffly means he’s in pain. Pain means he’s been hit. Oliver went feral; not even bothering to fire her weapon, she ripped it off its sling and charged the remaining distance, clubbing it down on the PLAN Marine. He raised his weapon to parry and she hammered it aside, bringing it back up to crunch into his face plate. His failsafe fired, and she could see the shrink-wrapping tighten behind his cracked visor as he tumbled off the boat’s bow.

  Ho was grappling with the second. Oliver could see him snarling through his visor as they wrestled. The marine was trying to pull free, but Ho’s arms were longer, and the wound had made him desperately strong, he yanked backward and the two toppled inward, the PLAN Marine flipping over Ho’s head and skidding face first along the deck. Pervez followed behind, clubbing him with her duster until he went still.

  Three more marines were climbing their way up the bow. One fired a hornet pistol, and Oliver rolled aside yet again, then swept back, raising her duster. The three marines froze as she locked her spider boots in place and leaned in to compensate for the recoil. The weapon boomed silent, the dust pattern wide enough to sweep all three of them back and out, sending them tumbling in the lunar gravity. She didn’t watch to see how badly hurt they were, and a hornet round zipped in past her face to remind her that trying wasn’t a good idea. She crouched to the deck, pulling Ho into the corner beside the Chinese prisoner, racking the slide on her duster to cover the window. They were out of the line of fire of both the hatch and the window, and she’d get a shot off on whomever came through either.

  “How bad is it?” she radioed Ho.

  Her XO had pulled himself into a sitting position, was looking at the singed, black dimple in his hardshell exterior. “I don’t believe this, it self-sealed. My failsafe didn’t fire.”

  “What? Are you hit or aren’t you?”

  “I am, boss, but it was an old carbon-dioxide laser. Cauterized me. Hurts like hell, and I feel a little dizzy, but I think it self-sealed the hardshell as it went through. Everything is cooked.”

  “Ho, do not die, do you hear me?”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  McGrath dropped out of the ladderwell, came racing into the cabin, followed by the rest of the crew. They took cover in the opposite corner. “What’s up with the turret?” Oliver asked.

  “It’s gone,” McGrath said. “I got out just in time.”

  “Thrusters are shot to pieces too, ma’am,” Okonkwo added. “This boat’s not going anywhere.”

  He glanced back down toward the boat’s aft. “They’re coming through the hatch now,” he added.

  Oliver saw the barrel of a weapon pushing through where the quartz-glass of the window had been. “Through the bow, too. Get ready to fight.”

  She raised her duster, waiting for the gun’s wielder to make themselves visible. They’d have to if they wanted to get a shot off of their own. Unless they get smart and throw a grenade in. Her mind spun, searching for a way to counter that threat, but there was nothing. Her team was crammed into the only spaces on the vessel not visible from the bow window or the rear hatch. There was simply no cover to be had. If a grenade came through that window, she would have to dive on it in the hope of giving the rest of the team shelter from the blast. Well, jackass, you wanted to be in the fight. Now you’re damn well in it, aren’t you?

  The gun barrel dipped a fraction, steadied. Pumped out two hornet rounds in quick succession, sending the munitions streaking aft, toward the hatch Okonkwo said the Chinese had just cut through. Why would they…

  A moment later, the weapon’s holder pushed through the window – their hardshell patterned with the blue and gray digital camouflage of SPACETACLET’s LSST.

  Oliver slumped in her corner, suddenly weak with relief. The sailor fired again, thumped down onto the deck, followed by two more LSST operators, hornet guns up and trained on the rear hatch. They advanced slowly, followed by another handful of LSST sailors and two US Marines. Oliver recognized their faces instantly – Koenig and Fujimori.

  “Admiral Oliver,” Koenig said, extending a hand to help her to her feet. “We seem to keep rescuing you.”

  “Looks like my LSST rescued me,” she said. “My XO
is hit. Do you have corpsmen handy?”

  “No, ma’am,” Koenig said. “He’ll have to shelter in place until we can get the battlespace stabilized.”

  “I can fight, ma’am,” Ho said, trying to rise, wincing.

  “The fuck you can,” Oliver said, “but you can’t stay here either. Do your best to keep up, but I want you to keep your head down.”

  “I have to admit, ma’am, you certainly split their attention,” Fujimori said. “Took some pressure off us. Really appreciate it.”

  Koenig gave her a look, but kept his peace. “Still could go either way, ma’am. If your team is fit to fight, we could use you.”

  “We are absolutely fit to fight,” she said. “Point us at them and pull the trigger.”

  “Outstanding,” Koenig said. “We lost the rest of the squad, but I think they’re back by our lead boat. We want to fight our way through, if you’d care to join us.”

  “General Fraser’s there?”

  Koenig nodded. “We lost radio contact when the Chinese frigate engaged.”

  “Ma’am,” one of the LSST operators approached her. “Admiral Allen’s orders are for us to tie up with you here and hold this position in the enemy rear.”

  Oliver glanced out the window at the PLAN Marines moving to find cover among the debris. Another two small boats were gliding toward them. “Absolutely not. It’s a miracle this position hasn’t been overrun already. We stay here and we’re just going to wind up shot full of holes. This is going to be a running fight.”

  “Ma’am,” the LSST operator said, “my orders come directly from Admiral Allen.”

  “Good for you,” Oliver said, “you can testify at my court marital. I am taking my team and we are going right now. Come with us or stay, your call.”

  Oliver turned back to Koenig. “Lead the way, lieutenant.”

  Koenig nodded and scrambled back out the missing window, Fujimori following. “Let’s go!” Oliver radioed her team. “The marines need our help!”

  She glanced to ensure the team was following after her, even Ho, limping along with one hand clamped over the sealed black spot in his hardshell. Okonkwo reached his side and gripped one of his elbows, pushing him along. Oliver dropped out through the window, slid down across the boat’s bow, letting her weight take her the rest of the way until her boots crunched down in the regolith. She turned as she slid, saw the ragged ruin of the boat’s turret, the autocannon sheared neatly in half.

  She turned back to the battle behind her and froze.

  The Chinese frigate was under thrust, rising and withdrawing from the surface. Oliver turned and saw the reason why: a Perry Class frigate burning hard toward it, turning itself broadside as it came. Its open bays were still launching Navy small boats, racing toward the Chinese positions beneath their rising frigate. Oliver turned to look behind her and saw the Coast Guard touching down. In addition to the LSST, two SAR boats had landed, blue-lights flashing ill-advisedly; further out and up Oliver could see a growing white dot that she knew was a cutter.

  The Chinese, caught in the middle and abandoned by their frigate, were milling in confusion. A body of the PLAN troops seemed dug in around the base of a large, partially ruined structure, a Navy boat crashed into its domed roof. The rest were turning to track the coast guards deploying in their backfield. Oliver noted with satisfaction that the LSST had emerged from the disabled PLAN boat and were making their way toward the Chinese position. Well, they’re not stupid, at least. The Chinese fired a few desultory shots toward them before turning to track the fresh Navy boats touching down on both their flanks.

  “That Fraser’s boat?” Oliver pointed to the Navy boat crashed into the structure’s roof.

  “That’s it,” said Koenig.

  “Where’s the rest of your team?”

  “We’re hoping they’re with the boat,” Fujimori said. “Lost comms.”

  Oliver looked at the US Marines deploying from the Navy small boats. “They’ll help with the main fight, but they’re not going to get to whoever is trapped on that roof in time.”

  “No, ma’am,” Koenig said. “Don’t see how we can get through to them in time either without going through the worst of the fighting.”

  “Not on foot,” Oliver said. “We won’t stand a chance. We have to run the perimeter as quickly as possible. Wish that Chinese boat was still operable. Okonkwo, are you sure you can’t get it running?”

  “No way, ma’am,” Okonkwo said. “Propellant lines are comprised.” He scanned around them. “There’s the ground rover that McGrath shot up.”

  “Can you get that running?”

  But Okonkwo was already bounding toward the six-wheeled machine, moving around to its side, heaving it back up onto its wheels, assisted by the weak lunar gravity. A hornet round streaked past him, answered by three more from the LSST, advancing toward them. Okonkwo flinched, but kept working, dusting regolith off the controls, pulling on a cable, pushing some buttons. A moment later, he waved to them.

  Koenig shrugged and bounded toward him, followed by Oliver and her team. “MK3, this vehicle has no helm.” Oliver gestured to the ragged hole where the steering column was visible through the broken dashboard.

  “No, ma’am,” Okonkwo said, “but the throttle still works, and I can sort of steer with this,” he gently tugged a metal cable, and Oliver watched the big wheels turn in response.

  “That’s just one cable, Okonkwo,” Pervez radioed.

  “Yeah, we can only turn left. But it’ll go.”

  “That seems… unreliable,” Koenig said.

  “I’m sure your guy could build an entire surface rover out of coconuts, sir, but you’re stuck with me for now,” Okonkwo said, “If you’ve got another ride. I’m all ears.”

  Koenig scanned the battlefield again. “OK, I guess we start angled to the right a little bit.”

  “A lot,” Okonkwo said, settling himself behind the broken steering column. “Everybody hop on, I guess I’m driving.”

  Pervez clapped his shoulder. “I’ll sign off your coxs’un sheet for this.”

  “Little different from a boat helm, BM1,” Okonkwo said, “but I think I can keep us from flipping over.”

  “I can’t believe we’re driving on a buggy that can only turn left.”

  “NASCAR!” Chief and McGrath said at the same time.

  “Hold on,” Okonkwo said, and the rover shuddered to life, lurched forward. Okonkwo drove it straight, angling away from the enemy for a few yards.

  “MK3,” Oliver radioed. “We need to go that way.”

  “I know, boss,” Okonkwo said, “just one more second to get lined up right.”

  Something detonated off to their left, spraying them with regolith, and Okonkwo pulled the cable. The rover turned, leaned, its right wheels coming up off the surface. “We’re unbalanced! Everybody over to the…”

  But they were already scrambling to the other side, and the wheels bumped back down into the soil, gripped, and the rover jumped forward, bouncing off a pile of regolith and losing contact with the surface for a moment before thudding back down. Oliver felt her weight shift, scrambled to grip something, and found herself clinging to Ho. Her XO began to slide off the rover, flailed his own arms, and finally grabbed onto the low railing that ringed the vehicle. “Ow, boss,” he grunted, “can you cling to life for someone else? I just got shot.”

  “Sorry,” she radioed as she balanced, reached out for the railing, and held on.

  The rover picked up speed, and Oliver could see some of the PLAN Marines moving to track it. “Christ,” McGrath said, wedging one boot under the railing and trying to steady his hornet gun across his raised knee. “I can’t shoot bouncing around like this.”

  “Sure you can,” Fujimori said, snapping off two rounds in the direction of a PLAN boat moving toward them. One of the rounds sparked off the bow, and the other missed, but the Chinese coxswain jerked the vessel out of the line of fire, and the boat lurched away from them.

&n
bsp; Koenig imitated McGrath’s posture, locking himself in place for a short moment before he flinched to one side as a hornet round streaked past him. He turned, leveling his weapon at a squad of PLAN Marines bounding to cut the rover off, and the airburst launcher beneath his gun barrel spat a thick contrail that detonated right at their feet. The PLAN Marines disappeared in the cloud of regolith the blast kicked up, and then Oliver was turning away as her suit was pounded by debris. She heard someone cry out as their radio accidentally chin toggled. When she looked up again, everyone appeared to still be holding on, the rover bumping along steadily.

  “Jesus, lieutenant,” she radioed. “How about a little warning.”

  Koenig never came off his weapon sights. “That or those fuckers would have run us down, ma’am. Just assume a general fire-in-the-hole until we’re done here.”

  The rover jumped along, rattling them around like ball bearings in a can, and Oliver didn’t even bother to raise her weapon, opting instead to hold on for dear life. The PLAN boats flashed by to either side of them. She could see their barrels tracking the vehicle, and could feel her muscles clenching in anticipation of the blast. But the Chinese guns stayed silent, and looking over her shoulder, she could see why. They were in middle of the Chinese troops now, and any fire ran the risk of hitting other Chinese positions opposite them. Oliver looked behind them, their tracks snaking back along the open regolith toward the advancing LSST, who were also holding fire for the same reason. They were safe for now, but the moment the Chinese circled around to their rear, they could fire on them without risking hitting their own people, and then they’d be done.

  “MK3, we’ve got about a minute before we get our asses lit up,” Oliver said.

  Okonkwo said nothing, but the rover sped up and Oliver watched the boat crashed into the structure’s roof growing closer. McGrath and Koenig realized they were in no danger of hitting their own people, and they fired as the rover bounced along, hornet rounds slinging into targets packed so densely it was difficult to miss. She could see PLAN Marines hitting the deck, boats veering out of the way, turrets tracking them as they went. “They are not going to put up with this for long.”