Storm Clouds, page 33
part #1 of The Guild Wars Series
“There won’t be any more taunting,” Prava said after a moment’s pause. “That is best kept for council meetings; it has no place between allies on the field of battle.”
“Good. Top, continue with my previous directions. Avoid combat until all our forces have arrived.”
“Got it, sir. Well? You heard the colonel. Spread out and find a way into the facility.”
“Colonel Shirazi, Captain Gallagher.”
“Go ahead,” Nigel commed.
“The fusion reactor on the Bravo facility just blew up with all of the Oogar and Goltar on board. It’s a total loss. There was a nearly finished ship at the facility. The fusion plants on board blew at the same time.”
“That’s a comforting thought, Captain. Any other great news?”
“A small courier ship detached from the station just prior to the detonation and jumped into hyperspace before it blew.”
“I didn’t think couriers had hyperspace shunts.”
“First one I’ve ever seen that did,” Gallagher said. “I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t just seen it happen. It either jumped or disappeared somehow. Either way, it’s gone…and so are the Oogar.”
“Okay, thanks. Keep me advised.”
“Yes, sir. Gallagher out.”
Nigel shook his head. So that’s how they’re going to play it. He opened up a channel with Mason and Prava as the next shuttle began disgorging Second Platoon. “Top, we’re going to have to do this a little different than I thought. I want you to take Second Platoon and head for Engineering. I’ll take First Platoon and head for the control section. Prava, feel free to divide your troops similarly.”
“Anything I should know?” Mason asked.
“Yeah, the fusion reactor on the Bravo facility blew up, killing all the Oogar forces. I want you to get down there ASAP and make sure this station doesn’t blow up, too. We can probably do that faster than we can get all of our troops back off this thing, and we need what this station’s got.”
“Yes, sir,” Mason said. “Keep the reactor from blowing up. I’m on it.” He began giving orders.
“My squad will stay with you,” Prava said. “The other will go with your Mason.”
“Fine,” Nigel said gruffly. “Let us lead; it doesn’t appear that they are going to give us these stations lightly.”
“As you wish,” Prava said, all condescension gone from her voice. “Letting your CASPers lead would seem to be the wisest choice. I’m in no hurry to die today.”
“Good,” Nigel said. “If you see anything I’m missing, speak up. I’m in no hurry to die today, either.”
“We’re in,” Rahimi called. “Rosenstein, you’ve got point.”
“Move out!” Nigel ordered. “I want to get to the control section as quickly as possible.”
The troopers went through the hatchway and into the station proper. Just like the spinal passageway, the corridors inside the facility were smaller than in a Human space station, or any of the other stations Nigel had been in before, and he began to feel slightly claustrophobic.
“Movement!” Private Rosenstein called from the point. “Looks like a Lumar, and he’s carrying stuff.”
“Get him!” Nigel ordered. “Whatever he’s got, I want it!”
Nigel burned his thrusters harder, trying to get up to the front, but the hallway lit up with laser fire and the comms net with swearing.
“Holy shit! Robots!” Rosenstein yelled. His icon on Nigel’s command display went yellow, then red with astonishing rapidity.
“Damn it!” Corporal Taheri added. “My laser’s bouncing off!”
“MACs! Fire at will!” Rahimi shouted.
“What’s going on, Rahimi?” Nigel asked.
“We just had two robots cut off the pursuit of the Lumar. They just dropped down from the ceiling. They are either made from some sort of new substance or have some sort of coating on them. Our lasers bounce off them—it’s worse than shooting at a fucking Goka. The only thing that seems to work is to hit them with a MAC round or five. You have to smash them pretty badly to take them out!”
“Understood,” Nigel replied, arriving at the scene of the battle. Rosenstein was obviously dead, and it looked like Taheri’s suit had taken a couple of hits, too. “Did the Lumar get away?”
“Yes, sir. I did get a good look at him, though,” Rahimi replied. “It looked like he was carrying four small suitcases or maybe four large briefcases. It was hard to tell.”
“Which way did he go?” Nigel asked.
Rahimi pointed. “Straight down the passageway and then to the right.”
“After him,” Nigel said. “I want those suitcases.”
“Colonel Shirazi, Top.”
“Go ahead, Top. What have you got?”
“We’re here are the fusion plant, and we’ve got a great big shit sandwich, sir.”
* * *
Gamma Facility, Lacabo Prime
“This is just fucking creepy,” Sergeant Ghaffari said from the point as Second Platoon crept down the vacant passageway. “Where the hell is everyone?”
“No idea,” First Sergeant Mason said. “Shut the hell up and focus.”
Mason was just as freaked out as the rest of the platoon. The feeling of being on a station that was probably about to blow up was definitely not lessened by the fact that it looked like the enemy had already vacated it. Not in the slightest.
“What the…” Private Mahdavi asked. “Oh, man, that’s gross.”
“What’s that?” Mason asked.
“There’s a…I think it’s a Bakulu crew in a room here,” Mahdavi said. “It looks like the Conglomerate explosively decompressed them. It’s…it’s not pretty.”
Mason jetted forward to the room and winced at what he saw. The pressures inside their shells on decompression had caused many of them to explode. He shook his head. There were a lot of people—somewhere—who had a lot of accounting to do. He just hoped he’d be around to help with the tallying, once they found out who those people were.
“Your handiwork, Geebo?” he asked the Veetanho lieutenant in charge of the group accompanying his platoon.
The Veetanho shrugged. “Perhaps they knew too much.”
“That’s all the other races are to you? Just so much fodder to be thrown away when they are no longer convenient?”
The Veetanho stared into his camera pickup. “Sometimes.”
Mason shook his head. The damn rats were just too cold blooded for him, and he could almost understand Colonel Shirazi’s often obvious desires to rid the galaxy of some of its less savory races. He’d heard some of the imams had called for a jihad against the MinSha, originally, but had expanded it to the Veetanho, Besquith, and Goka. It almost made him want to change religions.
“We’re at Engineering,” Ghaffari called, and Mason turned away from the Veetanho. “Uh, Top, you’re not going to like this…”
Mason raced forward to where Ghaffari waited next to a terminal in the engineering spaces. “What have you got?” Mason asked as he approached.
“This,” Ghaffari replied, pointing at the terminal. “The terminal is locked, and there is no way to put in a password to open it.”
“Okay, so?”
“Look at the terminal.”
Mason leaned over and his pinplants translated the symbols on the screen. It was a countdown. “Shit!”
“Yeah, I’m not sure who starts a countdown without the means of stopping it, but that’s pretty much the dumbest thing I ever saw. Except for when I found reverse harem bully romances in Ken Ferguson’s GalNet search history.” Mason could almost hear the shrug. “So, um, can we leave now, real fast, before it gets to zero? I doubt that balloons and confetti are going to drop from the overhead when that happens.”
“Everyone, search the other terminals,” Mason ordered. “There’s got to be a way of stopping it or turning it off.”
Two minutes later, after receiving a host of negative replies, Mason switched to the command frequency. “Colonel Shirazi, Top.”
“Go ahead, Top. What have you got?”
“We’re here are the fusion plant, and we’ve got a great big shit sandwich, sir,” the Asbaran first sergeant replied. “The terminals are all locked down and we can’t get into them—not a single one. They aren’t responsive to anything we’ve tried. Worse, there’s a countdown timer on them that’s running down through five minutes, sir. I don’t know what happens then, but the boys and I don’t want to be here to find out.”
“Get out of there and back to the shuttles. Load up and take off as soon as you’re able.”
“What about you?”
“I have to catch a Lumar, then we’ll be right after you.”
“See you at the shuttles,” Mason said. “Don’t be late.”
* * *
Gamma Facility, Lacabo Prime
“We’ve got five minutes,” Nigel said. “We’re going to need to hurry.”
“Uh, sir,” Sergeant Rahimi said. “I don’t think we’ll be able to catch the Lumar and make it back to the shuttles in time.”
“Whatever that Lumar has is important,” Nigel replied. “I can feel it. We stay after him.”
The pursuit continued.
“Colonel Shirazi, Captain Gallagher.”
“Go ahead,” Nigel commed.
“The fusion reactor on the Alpha facility just blew up, too. It’s another total loss. I think you better get out of there.”
“Fuck!” Nigel took a breath. Think, damn it. Think. He wanted what the Lumar had; he knew—somehow—he needed it. Still, it wouldn’t do anyone any good to get blown up. He couldn’t get back to the shuttles in time, and he doubted Mason would leave without him, even if he were ordered to do so. But there was no way to stop the reactor from blowing up…or was there?
“Pegasus Actual, Asbaran Actual.”
“Go ahead.” He recognized Alexis’ voice and hoped it wouldn’t be the last time he heard it.
“I need a hand here. We have a reactor that’s about to blow, just like the ones on Alpha and Bravo. Is it possible to zap it somehow, or cut off that section from the station with a laser, or something? We’re down to about two minutes.”
“Let me see what we can do.”
* * *
CIC, EMS Pegasus, Lacabo Prime
“Ghost, can you do anything about that?” Alexis yelled.
“Do it! Quickly!”
“Spinal mount is charging!” Sofeeka called out. There was less alarm in his voice this time, although there was still a healthy amount of concern.
“Noted,” Alexis said. “It’s expected.”
Sofeeka shook his head, obviously not sure how he was supposed to do his job when things outside of his control—or even his understanding—were increasingly commonplace on the ship and the weapons he was supposed to control.
The particle accelerator energized again, and the ship once again changed bearings by itself. The ship stabilized and a much longer pulse lashed out at the Gamma facility.
Alexis smiled as the engineering section was turned into its component particles. “Asbaran Actual, the reactor should no longer be a concern.”
* * *
Gamma Facility, Lacabo Prime
The facility jumped as something hit it, then everything went dark until the CASPers’ lights snapped on, illuminating the passageway with shifting, jumping shadows.
“Thanks, Pegasus Actual. Resuming the hunt.” He switched to the assault frequency. “As you may have guessed, the fusion reactor is no more. Let’s go get our Lumar.”
“In pursuit!” Rahimi said. “Private Wright, you’re with me.” The two jetted off, with the rest of the platoon and the Veetanho squad in trail.
“According to the schematics,” Nigel said, looking at what info they had as he chased after Rahimi, “it looks like there is another one of those courier ships tied up to one of the drydock facilities. We have to cut him off before he gets there!”
Nigel switched back to the command frequency. “Pegasus Actual, we’re trying to stop a fleeing Lumar who looks like he’s running for a courier ship tied up to the station. Please move to a position to cut it off in case we don’t get there in time to stop it!”
“We’re out of position to intercept but will get one of our frigates there ASAP.”
“There he is!” Rahimi exclaimed as the platoon rounded a corner. Wright and Rahimi went to full on their thrusters, and Nigel turned the corner to see them racing forward toward where the Lumar they’d been chasing—now devoid of the briefcases—was closing the access hatch to the courier ship.
“Don’t move a fucking inch or you’re dead!” Rahimi called.
The Lumar stopped what it was doing, looked up, and pointed at the two mechs with its upper hands. Within a second, both of their thrusters stopped firing, and the mechs started braking. The rest of the platoon drew to a stop at the same time Rahimi and Wright stopped next to the Lumar.
The mechs spun in place and began firing back down the passageway at the platoon as the Lumar slammed the hatch into place.
“What the hell?” Nigel roared. “Stop!” Then he realized they weren’t just firing toward the platoon as the icons in his display began winking out—the two troopers were killing the Veetanho. He’d tied their medical monitors into his system on the shuttle ride over, and he could see five were now red. Six. Seven. Without thinking, he grabbed Prava and threw her back around the corner, taking a laser from Wright in the leg for his troubles. The other two Veetanho icons winked out.
Then Rahimi and Wright began gunning down the Asbaran Solutions troopers. “No!” Nigel yelled as Private Richard Moore’s icon flashed briefly yellow in a number of places before going full red as a hail of MAC rounds ripped through him. Spalling and the rounds passing through the mech illuminated a number of yellow areas on the suits surrounding him in the crowded passage.
Private Aiden Fenn took the brunt of Wright’s laser, with two rounds through his chest and several other hits on his mech. There wasn’t as much spalling damage as from Moore’s suit, but Fenn was as equally dead.
Seeing Rahimi’s MAC turn toward him, Nigel did the only thing he could—he beat Rahimi to the punch and fired a single round through Rahimi’s mech. The trooper’s icon went red. He turned toward Private Wright, but Corporal Wilson was faster, spearing the trooper with several well-placed laser rounds. The corporal was already in motion, and Nigel followed him to his friend.
Wilson started to release the canopy, then realized there wasn’t any atmosphere in the station, and he would decompress Wright if he did so. “Why?” Wilson asked, as he impotently slapped the surface of the mech instead. “Why did you do it?”
“No…choice…” Wright whispered. He coughed a couple of times weakly. “It was…in my head…making me…”
Wright’s icon went red in Nigel’s display. “He’s gone,” Nigel said softly.
“No!” Wilson yelled. He jetted over the corpse of his best friend and looked out the exterior hatch.
The ship was gone.
* * * * *
Epilogue
Council Chambers, Merc Guild Headquarters, Capital Planet
“The courier ship, just like the two ships that left from the other facilities, escaped into hyperspace before the frigate Colonel Cromwell sent could cut it off,” Nigel said, recounting the attack to the rest of the Mercenary Guild Council. “Two of the three facilities were completely destroyed by the Weapons Conglomerate, but we were able to recover a couple of half-finished ships and a storehouse of weapons from the Gamma facility. Unfortunately, though, we haven’t been able to figure out how to make them work yet. There is something missing—we don’t know what it is—that must be needed to make them function. The arming and firing switches needed to employ the weapons aren’t incorporated into the weapons. We don’t know whether they were going to be added later, or if it was part of the computer interface that was to be added later.”
“And you say the ships you captured didn’t have any computers installed?” the MinSha rep asked.
“No, they hadn’t been installed yet,” Nigel replied, doing everything he could to keep his voice civil. None of the MinSha on the expedition had returned and the MinSha delegation was…concerned…that their troops had been sent to their slaughter by the Humans—especially Nigel, whose vendetta against their race was well-known. Surprisingly, it was Prava who had come to his defense, backing him up against all of their accusations, without any of her former rancor.
“In fact,” Nigel continued, “we’re not even really sure where they were to be connected. The ships were of a strange class that none of us had seen before. It didn’t have many of the normal spaces we would have expected for a warship, and the spaces for the crew were minimal at best…almost as if they were an afterthought. We will be bringing them back, and your technicians are welcome to go over them so you can make your own determinations.”
“The Human is correct,” Prava said, giving Nigel a small nod. “The ships were unlike anything we had ever seen, and almost looked like they had been designed to be run by only a few personnel. The level of automation in the ship was extensive.”
“But you have no idea where the courier ships went?” the Speaker asked.
“None,” Nigel said.
“We do not,” Prava said.
“What about the orbital weapons facilities?” the Flatar rep asked.
“They were all standard tech weapons,” Nigel replied. “Although larger scale than most, they incorporated normal lasers, missiles, and mass drivers. There weren’t any of the meson weapons on any of the stations we went to, or any other signs of advanced tech. Of note, the facilities were all automated in nature—we couldn’t find crew at any of them—and the computer systems had all been erased, so we don’t have any logs or any other information, other than the hardware we captured.”
