Recker saw it too. The enemy vessel was less than 400 metres away, tight up against the inner cube and not moving. His heart thumped when he noticed that he was looking at the rear section of the shuttle.
“Take it down,” he ordered. “Before they see us.”
Vance didn’t need a second invitation. He targeted and fired within two seconds and the nose gun’s alloy slugs pounded into the Daklan shuttle’s armour. Recker kept the deployment craft moving and readied himself for a response.
That response wasn’t long in coming and the shuttle accelerated away from its berth, with a large section of its stern plate orange from the chain gun impacts. The moment it came to the edge of the cube face, the shuttle’s pilot banked hard, hoping to buy some respite. A misjudgement sent the Daklan craft side-on into one of the pillars and then it spun into a second, the collision halting its momentum. Chain gun slugs crashed into the vessel and Sergeant Vance growled low in his chest.
In his pursuit of the enemy craft, Recker had brought the incision craft parallel to the cube face where the shuttle had been parked. He glimpsed an opening in the dark wall and his eyes detected a flicker of silvery movement.
Instinct told him what was coming and Recker hurled his spaceship lower, hoping to get beneath the cube. He was too late and a red streak of propellant etched a line through the darkness.
“Rocket!”
The Daklan missile struck the top section of the incision craft and Recker felt the craft lurch beneath the force of the blast. The cockpit alarm went off and warning lights appeared on the console. Through the open cockpit door, he heard the soldiers shouting questions and obscenities. That at least was a good sign – he’d never heard expletives coming from a dead man before.
“Finish that shuttle,” snarled Recker, dropping the deployment ship beneath the cube. To his relief, the controls were responding and he hoped the shoulder launched rocket hadn’t done any lasting damage.
Bullets spewed without cease into the enemy craft and its pilot made another attempt to fly into cover. Recker’s room for manoeuvre was limited by the necessity to deny the rocket soldier another shot and he flew sideways to keep the fleeing shuttle in sight.
“They’re turning,” said Montero nervously. “Gonna hit us with their nose gun.”
“No, they’re not,” said Vance.
The Daklan shuttle flew in a tight arc around one of the spokes and the pilot attempted to rotate the vessel at the same time. For a split-second, the support pillar interrupted the deluge of chain gun bullets drumming against the enemy armour and then it was out in the open again, this time with its nose pointed at the deployment vessel.
Recker braced himself and the clattering began at once, drowning out everything else. The deployment craft’s nose hadn’t cooled down from the previous exchange and Recker didn’t think the spaceship was going to hold up for much longer.
The surprise of the initial attack, in combination with Recker’s determination that he wouldn’t lose this one, proved to be enough. Under the pressure of imminent death, the Daklan pilot made a second error and caught his vessel’s stern against another pillar, knocking the bright tracers of incoming bullets a few metres wide of the incision vehicle.
When he saw it happen, Recker flew his ship in the opposite direction, while keeping the vessel’s nose aimed at the shuttle. Vance’s aim didn’t waver and the chain gun shots punctured the Daklan armour, opening a wide, heat-rimmed tear across its cockpit and continuing into the flank plating.
A ternium drive could suffer incredible punishment and remain operational, and so it was here. The crew and passenger sections of the vessel were torn into pieces, but the shuttle stayed in the air. Without direction, it drifted gently sideways into a pillar, bounced off and began a slow rotation. All the while, Sergeant Vance raked it with bullets to make certain the job was done.
“Another one down,” he said at last, releasing the triggers.
The series of confrontations, coming in such rapid succession, had left Recker feeling drained and his thoughts wandered to the booster injector he carried in one of his suit pockets. He ignored the brief urge and held the spaceship steady beneath the cube, while Private Montero spoke to the squad to find out about casualties.
“If curses were bullet holes, they’d all be dead a thousand times over, sir.”
Recker hid a smile. “The monitoring tools report no hull breach, so we’re ready to proceed. Sergeant Vance, are you ready to say hello to a Daklan rocket soldier?”
“I’ll put my best foot forward, sir.”
Despite the lightly spoken words, Recker was fully aware that what they planned was easier said than done. If the rocket soldier was alert, he might get off a second shot even if he was chewed up by bullets a moment later. Speed was the best way to reduce the risk of a counterattack, but in the confines of the inner cube, space was at a premium.
Taking a few deep breaths, Recker sized up his options and picked one. “Ready?”
“As ever, sir.”
Recker took the incision craft lower into the cube and piloted it carefully towards the inner wall, using one of the support pillars as cover. When he judged the position was right, he positioned the craft underneath one of the diagonal supports that connected with the cube face where the Daklan soldiers were hiding. Slowly, he drew closer and stopped just before the place where he judged a soldier in the doorway would have a firing angle.
“Now,” he said.
The chain gun had a tiny spool-up delay and Sergeant Vance anticipated by depressing the triggers immediately. At the same time, Recker flew the incision craft rapidly sideways with its nose pointing towards the opening in the cube. Bullets flew into the opening and then Recker flew back into the cover of the pillar. A moment later, an immense explosion struck the far side of the spoke, illuminating the surrounding area in plasma-accelerated orange.
“Again,” said Recker.
Before the explosion had receded, he flew sideways for a second time. The heat and light confounded the sensors’ ability to locate a target and Sergeant Vance fired on instinct. Chain gun bullets punched through the intense flames and Recker wasn’t certain if they were on target.
The flames drew back, vanishing quickly and leaving a section of the spoke glowing red with the memory. The receding of the blast allowed Recker a view of the inner cube and he was impressed to find that Vance’s aim was true.
“Most Daklan shuttles carry two tube soldiers, sir.”
Recker grimaced. They’d killed one, he was certain. About the other, he had no idea.
“Now they’ve seen what we did to their shuttle, whoever’s left in that cube is probably hunkered down,” said Montero.
“The Daklan don’t like to lay low,” said Recker.
“No, sir,” said Vance. “If they’ve got another tube in there, they’ll probably wait for us to show up outside that opening.”
The incision vehicle was still in the air and responding well to the controls, but Recker didn’t want to test if its damaged hull could soak another Daklan rocket. Equally, he didn’t want to chance a standoff either, in case another enemy shuttle made it past the Expectation.
“If the enemy plan to surprise us, they’ve got to be hiding around a corner where our chain gun can’t hit them,” mused Recker.
“Could be they’re behind a door instead, sir,” said Vance. “And opening it every few seconds to see if we’ve arrived.”
“Let’s hope they aren’t doing that, Sergeant.” Recker gave a tight smile. “Raimi’s got a tube.”
“Yes, sir.”
Recker got on the comms channel. “Private Raimi, take that rocket tube up the forward exit shaft, open the hatch and be ready to fire when I give the order.”
Raimi didn’t hesitate. “Yes, sir. On my way.”
Somehow, the soldier made it up the shaft while carrying the tube in about ten seconds.
“Ready for pressure loss, sir,” he warned.
“Do it.�
��
Pinvos had an atmosphere, though not much of one and the opening of the hatch caused the air in the deployment vessel to vanish outside in a few seconds.
“Ready whenever you are,” said Raimi.
Sure enough, one of the external sensor arrays showed Private Raimi’s upper body protruding through the hatch, with the dull grey rocket tube over one shoulder. Against an armoured vehicle, a degree of accuracy with placement of the missile was desirable. When the target was ground troops in an enclosed space, landing the shot somewhere in the general vicinity of the opponents was normally enough to cause widespread carnage. All Raimi had to do was get his rocket into the opening.
“I’m going to fly out from behind this support pillar,” Recker advised. “At the same time, I’ll switch on our lights so you can see what you’re aiming at. Look for an opening, dead centre in the cube and put a rocket through it while Sergeant Vance fires the chain gun to ensure the enemy stay out of sight.”
“Hell, sir, I didn’t know you had the sergeant in control of the gun. He’s got more chance of hitting me than that opening!”
“Private Raimi, you’re walking the line,” said Vance.
“Just saying.”
“That’s enough - we’re going,” said Recker.
He didn’t wait any longer and took the spaceship sideways, while Vance pelted the opening with bullets. Raimi turned out to be a good shot and his shoulder-launched rocket screamed away, the sound audible through the hatch. When the missile exploded, sending a gout of flame out of the cube opening, Recker had already taken the deployment craft back into cover. He gritted his teeth in anticipation, but no Daklan missile came.
“Nice work, Private Raimi,” said Vance.
“No problem, sir. Am I staying outside?”
Recker judged that he’d done everything possible to reduce the risk of a second Daklan missile attack, but it was best to remain alert. “Stay there and watch.”
“Roger that, sir.”
With Private Raimi acting as a one-man turret, Recker flew the spaceship out of cover and headed for the opening. Sergeant Vance didn’t take chances either and he fired an extended burst from the chain gun in case the Daklan were alive and watching.
“Ammo’s running low,” he said, when he released the triggers.
The vessel wasn’t designed for an in-combat reload, so the bullets in the magazine would have to be enough. A glance at the readout told Recker it would be touch-and-go if they encountered another enemy shuttle, though Raimi’s shoulder launcher would likely tip the balance.
“Hold fire, Sergeant,” he ordered. “Let’s keep what we have left.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You’d best get out back and prepare the squad for a fast exit from the side hatch.”
It was like Sergeant Vance had waited his entire life for just that order. He snatched up his gauss rifle and surged into the troop bay, shouting commands like a man who’d regained his voice after spending ten years mute.
Flying too quickly for the conditions, Recker turned the spaceship and lined it up with the opening. It took Private Montero a moment to point the sensors the right way and the auto-lock snapped everything into focus.
“A passage and an intersection,” said Recker. “Anything around either of those corners would have been incinerated.”
“No sign of any survivors,” said Montero. “No lumps, nothing.”
The Daklan didn’t appear and Recker guided the spaceship towards the opening, aligning its side exit with the three-metre entrance to the inner cube. With the gentlest of thumps, contact was made.
“Sergeant Vance, time for you to move. Sweep through and clear out any Daklan. When you’re done, return here and it’ll be your turn at the controls.”
Vance already knew what was expected and he exited the spaceship, leading his soldiers into the alien cube. Hating that he was reduced to inaction, Recker held the control sticks in a death grip while he waited for developments.
Chapter Twelve
Sergeant Vance and his squad had proved their worth back on Oldis and Recker was sure their sharp edge hadn’t turned rusty in the four weeks or so since that engagement. The squad’s losses from the lightspeed missile strike on the warship Punisher had been replaced and Recker had learned that Vance had pulled a few strings to ensure he got the final say over the replacements. Doubtless he’d hand-picked five laconic, alien-murdering bastards to join his team.
At two hundred metres along each edge, the inner cube had the potential to be riddled with passages and rooms, offering the Daklan numerous places to hide or cause problems. Recker tried not to think too hard about it. Mutual destruction here on Pinvos would benefit neither side, but equally, it was inconceivable to allow the Daklan access to the technology in the satellite. Just thinking about them fitting core overrides onto their annihilators filled him with dread.
To Recker’s great relief, Vance didn’t keep him waiting.
“Sir, we’ve secured an area not far from the entrance. We encountered three hostiles and killed them,” he said. “I can’t guarantee that’s all of them, but we found some consoles I thought you might want to look at. In the circumstances, maybe the enemy are secondary.”
“I agree. Return to the shuttle immediately.”
Within a minute, the broad figure of Sergeant Vance appeared in the tunnel and a short while after, he entered the cockpit.
“Take the controls,” said Recker, standing and picking up his own gauss rifle. The metal hummed with faint vibration, reminding him of times long ago.
“Got them, sir. I’ll hold steady here.” Vance hesitated. “Private Raimi’s inside the cube.”
“Any sign he’s needed there?”
“No guarantees either way, sir.”
“Recall him and send him into the forward exit shaft again. It doesn’t matter what happens in that cube – if we lose this incision craft, we’re not getting back to the Expectation.”
“No, sir. It’s a long way down and I forgot to pack my wings.”
Recker exited the cockpit and hurried along the narrow bay. A rear door gave access to the small cargo area, in which crates of guns and ammunition were fixed to the walls. The engines were below the floor and another module was beyond the rear bulkhead, which meant the sound of the gravity drive was more intrusive here than elsewhere.
Stepping quickly across the dimly lit space, Recker arrived at the side exit, which was little more than a short crawlspace leading through the armour to the currently open exit hatch. Clambering along, Recker found himself facing a metre-wide gap between the incision craft and the cube entrance, with only darkness below. He didn’t stop to think and launched himself across the space, throwing his weight forward when he landed.
Private Raimi was coming the other way.
“Left at the end and first right, sir. You won’t get lost.”
With these briefest of instructions delivered, Raimi slid his seven-foot rocket tube lengthways into the shuttle. The soldier followed in what appeared to be a practiced dive which carried his entire body into the crawlspace and left only his feet dangling over the edge. A moment later, Raimi was gone.
Checking his helmet readout, Recker discovered that the temperature was minus ninety-five degrees Centigrade and the air composition would ensure a quick death if he tried breathing it. His spacesuit kept him protected from most naturally occurring environmental conditions and he set off for the intersection.
On the way, Recker noticed a film of char which covered every surface and a harsh, bitter stench came in through his helmet filter. The source of both char and stench had likely once been Daklan, though Recker didn’t dwell on their deaths.
Vance hadn’t left anything to chance and had posted Corporal Stoner Givens, Private Hunter Gantry and one of the recent additions to the squad – Private Bonnie Stevens - at the intersection. Gantry had his MG12 flesh-ripper set up on the floor and aimed it along the right-hand passage.
“No
thing to report, sir,” said Givens, looking jumpier than normal.
Recker turned his head right and the sensor in his helmet outlined the edges of the passage in green. The corridor continued for a short distance and turned left.
“Daklan?” he asked.
“None that we’ve seen, sir.” Givens shrugged in his crouching position.
“I don’t care if you’ve seen them or not – do the enemy have a presence?”
“Sergeant Vance wasn’t sure, sir. He left us here just in case.” Givens nudged the prone Gantry with his foot. “If any of them show, we’ll cut them down.”
While Recker admitted the squad hadn’t been given the opportunity to explore and secure the entire cube, he wasn’t happy with the uncertainty. On a whim, he set off into the right-hand passage, turning his helmet flashlight on low. Ten metres along, he found another smear of char on the floor and walls. Something had disturbed the greasy coating.
“Footprints,” said Recker. “Did any of you go this way?”
“No, sir.”
Recker returned to the intersection. “In that case, the Daklan are still here. Get on the comms and alert Sergeant Vance.”
“Yes, sir.”
The discovery left Recker in a foul mood and he strode past the soldiers, heading left. This passage was a mirror of the other and it turned right twenty metres along. After that, it ended at some stairs with high risers, which Recker descended rapidly. Halfway down, he suddenly noticed how quiet the interior of the cube was, with no propulsion sound or anything else that would indicate it was operational. On balance, he’d have preferred noise over silence.
At the bottom, he came to a doorway with no sign of an associated door. He stepped across the threshold into a room about ten metres square and with a three-metre ceiling. The place was a mess of thrown about, smashed up tech, most of which had ended up against the left-hand wall. Torn cables protruded from holes in the floor and console holding brackets had been ripped away, leaving sharp edges which looked as if they could slice open a spacesuit easily enough. While Recker was sure the cube had a life support unit, it evidently wasn’t up to the job of cushioning the blow from a high-speed planetary impact.
Fractured Horizons (Savage Stars Book 2) Page 10