by Matt Novotny
He opened the sheet and revealed the body of one of the Zeewie. Except for the blood, the tiny alien could have been sleeping. Red stained the white blaze on the Zeewie’s fur. Her arms had been folded across her chest around a chocolate bar from a ration pack. The pillows had made the body look bigger than it was. Human sized. Sabine sized. Rains felt CASPers come up behind him.
Relief flooded through him, followed by a wave of shame. The Zeewie weren’t fighters. No matter how this had happened, it wasn’t deserved. She would have been helpless against whatever killed her. The candy bar was Human food, so it had probably been Bes or Sabine who had placed it there.
“It’s not her—not them. The body is still warm. We’re close!”
The screen next to the door flickered to life. A shaky image of Bes being held by Sin’Kura was mirrored on the rest of the screens in the old brothel.
“Rains, I grow impatient.” She raised a hand, extending her claws. “I give timer for your compliance.” She slashed Bes’ face, then slashed Bes’ side from her ribs to her hip. Blood soaked her shirt with blood. Sin’Kura held her toward the camera.
“Jackson Rains, you had better cough up chip before your friend bleeds out, and I do the same to the girl.”
“We gonna kill dat bitch and no mistake. I gar-on-tee!” Amos seethed.
Rains grabbed his helmet and put it back on as he climbed into Bruno.
<
Lucille updated Rains’ HUD with their current location and a least-time route to ‘Bastian. As the drone moved, Lucille showed potential end points.
Rains sealed up Bruno and his gator-skin synced with the CASPer’s systems.
“What are the destinations based on, Lucille?”
<
“Update the Cajuns as the route changes, Lucille.”
<
Rains opened the command channel. “We have a new fix on ‘Bastian’s location. Updating your displays now. Let’s move!”
“Roger dat!” Amos said. “Back in order, Cajuns! Dat Zeewie means we got civilians in da mix, so verify your targets. It ain’t just bad guys, so nobody spray-and-pray.”
A series of clicks acknowledged the command, and the Cajuns moved back into battle order, with Guidry and Benoit taking point.
“I want five-meter separation. Dem Torvasi have crew weapons; let’s not give ‘em an easy target. Go!”
The Cajuns moved out at a brisk pace that chipped away at the gap on their displays.
“Contact front!” Guidry called as the corridor was suddenly filled with laser fire. “No civilians!”
There was a roar as the Cajuns moved to firing positions and returned fire with their MACs.
Rains checked the map. The corridor let out into an open area. It looked like the defenders were trying to prevent them from reaching a bank of elevators.
“Room to maneuver, Amos,” Rains said.
The laser fire slowed, then redoubled. The steady whup-whup-whup of one of the Torvasi crew-served plasma cannons sent streaks of blinding blue fire down the corridor.
“I see it!” Amos replied. “Call the play, Jac-son!”
Rains keyed the command channel. “Cover fire in fifteen seconds, grenades in twenty! Follow up Alpha Squad! Two right and two left! Take out any flankers. Beta Squad, jets at the ready, three up and two down! Acknowledge!” Jackson updated the assignments as the flurry of affirmatives hit. The Cajuns fired on full auto as the clock ticked over. Five seconds later there was another round as both squads’ grenade launchers came into play.
On the tail of the grenade detonations, the Cajuns charged. Benoit and Guidry swung right as soon as they hit the open space while Amos and Fontenot swung left, Arton continued cover fire straight ahead. The flanking CASPers sprayed death down the cross corridor, working back to the middle.
Landry, BC, and Trahan hit the open area, and with a quick burst of their jets were airborne, spraying the Blevin and Torvasi positions with MAC fire before landing to go close quarters with the remainder.
Rains and Hebert charged the plasma cannon. Hebert was hit by a glancing blow and tumbled into one of the Blevin positions. Rains triggered his jets, shifting at the last second into a baseball slide, smashing into the Torvasi gun and crew like the freight train Ned had told him Bruno was. Rains pushed to his feet and caught the gunner with an open-hand slap that dropped him instantly. He stomped on a second Torvasi and took out the third with a burst of MAC fire.
Rains looked around for another target, but the fight was over.
“Get those elevators!” Rains said. “Edouard? You all right?” Rains checked his display. Everyone was green except for Hebert.
“I’m okay. Winged me; didn’t penetrate. Trouble with the arm, but I’ll make it work.”
“Contact right! Sixty seconds!”
“Go or stay?” Amos said.
Rains checked his HUD. ‘Bastian’s signal was four levels down and getting further away.
“Go,” Rains said. “We’re out of time.”
As the Cajuns loaded up, Rains and Amos aimed the Torvasi plasma cannon down the corridor, set it to auto fire, then jumped for the elevator.
“You know they be right behind us,” Amos said.
“Let’s see what we can come up with to limit their options,” Rains said as the elevators dropped.
* * *
Hope Station
Hangar Bay
Olympian oh-one-two blasted along the hangar galleries. The Squad came in hot, aiming for the booth that housed the door controls. It was closer than the gantry control center that was oh-one-one’s target and more heavily defended; it was covered by several automatic defenses. Once atmosphere returned to the bay, doors in the various galleries had opened, allowing squads of Blevin to enter and take up firing positions. An armored Blevin one-on-one wasn’t much of a match for a CASPer, but there were a lot more Blevin than Olympians, and, with massed fire, they could cut the Humans to ribbons.
The other bad news was that the Torvasi in command of the Blevin were equipped with powerful plasma weapons instead of laser carbines, including what appeared to be a sled-mounted crew weapon. The only way to secure the bay was to get the gallery doors closed and lock them so the Olympians could focus on linking up with the other teams.
If oh-one-two could take and hold the controls, Commander Rikki and Olympian Two could eliminate any resistance and secure the bay.
There was a cheer as the REX’s PDLs started firing on the station defenses, quickly clearing a path for the squad. Fire lit the gallery across the bay like the mother of all strobe lights. Commander Rikki barked orders as Blevin bounded over each other and obstacles in a leapfrog advance straight from an old scifi movie.
“Oh-two-one, left flank! Oh-two-two, right flank! Oh-two-three, withdraw! Draw them in, right down the middle.”
“Oh-one-two, target in sight,” said Ripper. “Firing!” MAC and laser fire slammed into the Blevin as the squad cut loose.
“Shit!” one of the squad said as the Torvasi sled opened up with its plasma weapon.
“Oneshot! Blow through and take them from behind,” Ripper ordered.
“I got this,” Garst said, accelerating Oneshot toward the sled. “Gonna take ‘em!”
The squad took heavy fire from the Torvasi crew weapon and poured the power on.
“Aaaarrrggghhhhh!” Garst screamed as Oneshot took several direct hits that severed one arm and pierced his canopy. The shattered CASPer tumbled into the gallery and slammed into the sled, crushing the Torvasi crew. The rest of the squad shot past the wreckage, turning and firing their suit thrusters on full, MACs blazing. The battlenet screamed a warning as another squad of Blevin approached their position.
“Fire right!” roared R
ipper. Oh-one-two followed up with a hail of MAC fire. The Blevin scattered. “Grenades, now!” A dozen grenades were launched. “Cover!” Ripper said as the grenades exploded in a rumble of sustained thunder. “All right, we’re clear! Get in and get those doors closed!”
Abruptly the station sensors dropped off the battlenet. Alarms flashed, and Rains broke into the command net. “Peacemaker Six to all units, battlenet has been compromised. Jamming all enemy frequencies. Switch to local intel and control, thirty seconds!”
“Affirmative, Peacemaker Six. All units confirm local control,” Colonel Nolan responded.
With a moment to breathe, Ripper looked around at the other gallery in time to see Commander Rikki and Olympian Two springing the trap as a mass of Blevin surged after him, Tikki, and Tavvi, right into the kill zone.
“Come get some, you scaly fuckers! Olympian Two! Fire!” Rikki screeched. Tavvi reared up, then turned sideways on the gallery ceiling so that both Rikki and Tikki could bring their saddle-mounted guns to bear. Withdrawing, oh-two-three doubled down with MAC fire and a missile barrage. Combined with the two flanking squads, the Blevin were caught in a four-way crossfire that turned all four squads into gently drifting pink mist. Not to be outdone, Tavvi scrambled to release the maglock on the Torvasi sled and hurled it across the gallery into another group of Blevin.
“Scary goddamn rodent,” Ripper said in admiration.
“I heard that, Ripper,” Rikki replied.
“Really?” asked Tavvi. “Did you see that throw? Scary goddamn rodent, but nothing for the BFS?”
“BFS?” Ripper asked.
“Big Fucking Spider!” chorused Rikki and Tikki in unison.
“Olympian Two, forward. We’ve got a date with a crab,” Rikki said.
“Oh-one-two, report,” Ripper said.
“Doors are closing now.”
“Yes!” said Ripper. “Junkyard, Ripper. Objective complete. Galleries are sealing now.”
“Roger that, Ripper. Good job,” Colonel Nolan replied.
The squads from Olympian Two approached the maintenance hatches to the next gallery. Based on what they had seen before the battlenet went down, they were expecting Torvasi and at least a couple squads of Blevin, but the area was empty. The squads entered and positioned themselves at the next set of doors. Tavvi took the center with squads Two and Three arrayed on either side.
As they approached, they felt heavy vibrations through the deck accompanied by a line of dents stitched into the wall and doors as kinetic weapons hit it from the other side.
They heard sounds of combat through the armored doors of the airlocks, but it seemed distant and strangely muted.
“Get ready,” Rikki said. “Squad Four, watch the backdoor!”
Then something pounded on the airlock door. Bang, ba-ba, bang, bang.
“What the hell is that?” Rikki asked.
One of the Olympians laughed, and Sandman stepped forward to complete the sequence. Thump-thump! “Shave and a Haircut,” he said. “It’s a Human thing.” Sandman opened the door and Hurricane Cindy in her blue and gray swirl striped Mk7, and the members of Olympian Three, stood on the other side.
Soon, Olympian Two and Olympian Three were on the move back to where they entered the station, sending squads out on mop-up duty for any Blevin that hadn’t escaped into the station as the gallery doors were sealed. The Athal surrendered, thinking they were facing pirates. Colonel Nolan informed them that the Olympians were here as part of a rescue mission and confined them to what was left of their ship.
Olympian Two and Olympian Three searched the galleries to verify they hadn’t missed anything. “Rikki and Sebastian to Colonel Nolan. Objective complete. Main hangar and galleries are secure.”
“Good work. All units, ready for Phase Two,” Nolan said.
* * *
Hope Station
In Pursuit of Sin’Kura
As the lifts descended, the Cajuns ran system and equipment checks. Soft music came from the elevator speakers.
“I’m down to twenty percent on ammo,” Guidry said. “That was an expensive shoot-up.”
There was a chorus of agreement.
“I like this song. It’s catchy,” Trahan said. “What is it?”
“‘The Girl from Ipanema,’” Hebert said.
“How the fuck do you know that?” Landry asked.
“What?” said Hebert. “I like old music.”
“Settle down now, we gotta think about how we’re gonna keep company knockin’ on the door instead of comin’ in messin’ up the carpet,” Amos said.
Jackson switched off his external comms. “Lucille, can you access the station’s systems and lock out the elevators or seal the hatches?”
<
“How are we getting ‘Bastian’s transmissions through the jamming?” Rains asked.
<<‘Bastian is transmitting on the station comm system frequency through a relay. There is no access to the other station systems.>>
Damn! It’s never easy!
“All right, Boom-Boom. What ya got for me!” Amos asked.
Callista searched through her pack. “All the usual suspects, Amos. C-12 and K-2…I have some thermite charges. We can take out the control panels and wreck the doors, but I don’t think we can destroy the elevators. This industrial mining stuff is awful heavy.”
“Rig this one and get the other two as soon as we’re down. We just need to slow ‘em up.”
The elevators ground to a halt, and the Cajuns settled into firing positions as the doors parted. The girl from Ipanema walked on, never looking back. The landing was empty.
“All clear!”
“Almost done here,” Callista said.
There was a giggle over the comm. “All y’all been adulting too long and it shows,” said Elise Arton. “You know how many times Nana Marie yelled at me for this?”
Elise jammed an empty ammo container into the door to keep it from closing and then pushed every button for good measure.
“Son of a…” Amos said. “Get the other one! Callista, add an extra charge to this one, we’ll send it back special delivery.”
“Roger that.” Callista slapped another charge on the control panel and wired it in. “Done!”
“Everybody ready? We’ve got some ground to make up,” Rains said.
There was a chorus of affirmatives.
The Cajuns easily slid back into formation and moved quickly to catch up to ‘Bastian’s signal. Fortunately, the route followed the main corridors and there was no difficulty with the CASPers making it through. A minute later there was a muffled boom! as the charges Callista had placed in the elevators went off, followed by a grinding, screeching vibration.
“I might have been wrong about how tough that elevator was. Maybe I overdid it a touch?”
“There’s no kill like Overkill!” Elise snarked, referring to one of the Olympians. “Just ask him.”
They passed through a set of blast doors. “Seal dat up, Boom-Boom!” Amos said.
Callista applied a thick bead of thermite foam to the joins and edges. After a few seconds it ignited.
“One insta-weld coming up,” she said.
Suddenly the signal from ‘Bastian stopped. As they reached the next blast door, they heard hammering on the previous one.
“That was sooner than I thought it would be,” Amos said.
They passed the second set of doors, and welded them shut the same way. Callista added a K-2 charge that would go off if it was forced open, and they pushed some nearby crates across the corridor to give them cover and a firing position if they had to fall back. They moved forward and were almost to ‘Bastian’s location when—
“Contact front!”
A flurry of plasma fire lit the corridor, and the Cajuns took cover behind crates and abandoned equipment.
“Goddamn!” said H
ebert. “I’m hit! It ain’t bad, but my MACs are offline. I still got the hand unit and grenades!”
“Looked like Blevin working the crew weapons. Didn’t see any Torvasi, but might not mean much,” Guidry said.
“Yeah, they’re firing wild,” Amos said. “They keep it going, they’re goin’ to overheat dem guns. Anytime it slows, everybody give ‘em a few rounds to keep ‘em interested. Landry, Trahan, scoot back to dem crates and cover our six in case dey get smart.”
For the next minute, the groups exchanged fire. Each time the plasma guns began to lag, a flurry of MAC rounds brought the level back up.
“Dey lucky we don’ have Sebastian down here, he’d cover ‘em in sauce and eat ‘em for breakfast!” Amos said.
Rains fired a burst of MAC rounds and a grenade into a lull. “I keep meaning to ask you—what kind of business are you and Sebastian running, anyway?”
Amos laughed, taking his turn to fire. “Cajun sauce! Dem Xiq’tal can’t get enough of the stuff, and the hotter, the better. I’m already making more from sauce than I make from anything else. Seems like dem Xiq’tal ladies can be a mite frigid, an Ol’ Amos’ sauce is just da thing to warm ‘em up, I gar-on-tee!”
Rains fired again. “So, when Sebastian turns all purple, he’s…”
“Horny as a teenaged boy in the girls’ locker room!” Amos said.
“Amos! You’re a drug dealer!”
“I am not! I’m a distiller, and Sebastian is a distributor. Ain’t a thing addictive about it.”
The fire slowed again, and the next round of fire from the Cajuns didn’t get the usual response.
“How does that even work? I mean, don’t they lay eggs or—”
There was a muffled boom!
“Contact rear!” yelled Landry. “Firing!”
“Now or never, Jac-son,” Amos said.
“Cover fire!” Rains called as he moved the steel crate he’d taken cover behind and shifted. “I’ve got an idea.”
While half the Cajuns provided cover fire, the rest quickly pulled several mining crates into line.
“On three!” Jackson said. “One! Grenades!” The Cajuns fired a barrage of grenades. “Two!” A series of explosions ripped down the hallway. “Three!” Rains and the Cajuns pushed the crates down the corridor as fast as they could go. The crates started glowing red from the heat of the plasma fire. Finally, there was another muffled boom! and the fire stopped as the remaining Blevin broke and ran.