Open Arms, page 19
part #7 of On Silver Wings Series
"Who would that be now?"
They exchanged glances briefly, one stepping forward.
"I am Sentinel Mae," he said in the gravelly tone Harrison had come to associate with the Lucians. "I am best versed in establishing defensive requirements and directing them as needed."
"Alright, Mae, you're with me," Harrison said crisply. "Deploy your Sentinels as needed, but keep in contact in case we need to lift off. The situation just became highly unstable."
"Very well," the Sentinel answered curtly before turning and barking out orders in the Lucian language.
Harrison caught perhaps one word in three, likely less. He was starting to learn Alliance Standard, but his Lucian was far from fluent.
He was really going to have to work on that.
*****
"Scanners up!"
Caliph glanced over at the main threat board as the scanner echoes started hitting back. There were several grounded birds around them, all local build, all atmospheric designs, of course. None of them had any sign of power, which left them dead on her scopes. The building was lit up, but no signs of anything hostile were in evidence.
People were another story.
There were quite a few, of course; it was a semi-busy airfield and had people coming and going regularly. They were all pretty much armed. Figuring out which of them was a threat was going to be a pain.
"Okay, we have thirty-four yellow-level threats. Log them, track them, and elevate them to red if they breach the outer perimeter," Caliph ordered.
"Roger that," Ensign Gin acknowledged.
She didn't see any military signals--not Earth or Alliance, at least--anywhere in range. That surprised her slightly, in all honesty. They'd been on the ground for some time. She would have expected some sort of response from local authorities by this point, even if it was just to keep an eye on them.
"SOL, Peregrine," she said into the comm.
"Peregrine, go for SOL."
"What's going on?" she asked the comm officer. "We're not getting any updates here."
"Still gathering intel, Peregrine. You'll have to standby."
"'Standby' he says," Caliph grumbled, killing the signal as she looked over to her RIO. "Do we have anything on the colonel and her team?"
"Relay data from the SOL only," Gin told her. "Location, not much more."
"Great. So where the hell are they then?"
"Forty-eight miles due north...give or take a little to the east," Gin told her. "Suit feeds aren't being relayed. We'll have to get closer to get into those."
"We're not taking off yet," she told him.
"Going to have to make a choice soon," Gin replied. "Batteries are down thirty percent. We'll have to kill the actives soon, or light the fires."
*****
Eri's Villa
"APC is ready to rock and roll, Colonel."
"Thanks, Corporal," Sorilla responded, her focus on the external perimeter.
The approaching forces were almost to the hundred-meter line, which would put them within range of most unaided small arms. Given that they were equipped with Alliance warp blasters, they were well within their effective range.
So why haven't they opened fire yet?
Sorilla was well aware of the effective ranges of the weapons in question, and in their place, she would have already engaged. She also had a good idea why the enemy was holding back, or were apparently doing so at least.
They have no idea what they're doing, she realized with a sudden certainty. They're children playing with toys they haven't the training, or the intelligence, to understand.
That thought reoriented her thinking, and she started working out how they were likely to operate with limited tactical experience with their weapons.
If they're using those weapons entirely on manual control, they're going to be extremely crippled by that.
"Major!" she called, turning from the window. "They think they're carrying assault rifles."
"What?" Strickland looked over, confused by her statement.
"They think they're using rifles, Major," she said again. "They have no clue how to deploy the weapons they're carrying."
Strickland turned, looking out and through the walls with the augmented HUD, pensively silent for a few seconds as he considered that.
"Break out," he said, nodding firmly. "Master Sergeant!"
"Sir!" Chavez responded instantly.
"Weakest point in the enemy line?" Strickland snapped, getting in motion as he headed for the APC.
"Northeast, away from the river, sir," Chavez said. "And the airfield!"
"Noted, Master Sergeant," Strickland said, looking to Sorilla. "Colonel?"
Sorilla nodded. "That's the move. Break out through the gap at the three o'clock. Hook up with our backup in eleven minutes. Re-evaluate our options then. Go!"
*****
Reggie Maxim shifted uncomfortably as he moved through the scrub that surrounded the villa.
Damn Xeno crap. What can't they build these things to fit humans better?
He twisted the Xeno weapon around, trying to keep it from rubbing against his arm and chaffing the skin off any more than it had already. Nothing about the damn thing was right. It felt like it had been designed by a retarded child, if anyone were to ask Reggie his opinion.
No one ever seemed to, more's the pity, to his thoughts.
The back of the villa was just up ahead. He and the others were supposed to make sure no one came out the back door, but there was no motion at all in the entire back section so it looked like they were wasting their time. The guys in the front were going to have all the fun, apparently.
Wasting a race traitor like Eri was the best kind of fun too.
Any righteous man would have known better than to trade for Xeno goods. Human gear was perfectly fine; no one needed the off-world junk.
One more traitor down, and Arkana would be that much more pure.
Reggie paused as he adjusted his grip again, speaking into the encrypted communications system he was wearing.
"All clear on the rear. Looks like they're holing up inside," he reported.
Good luck to them, Reggie sneered. The weapons he and the others were carrying were going to turn that villa into a smoking crater, along with everyone inside.
He was still fantasizing about the state he was going to leave Eri's ranch villa in when the back wall of the garage blew out, sending him and the others diving to the ground for cover.
*****
The electric motors on the APC all spun up instantly, sending pure torque to the six wheels. The airless tires bit in and twisted under the stress, throwing the big vehicle forward with acceleration. Everyone inside was thrown back, almost two full G's of acceleration slamming them into their bolstered seats as the APC lurched forward and the main gun fired.
The explosive round blew out the back wall of the garage just a second before the APC hit the remnant rubble and exploded through, flying over the threshold and slamming back to the ground before accelerating away in a cloud of dust.
Men scattered in all directions as the big APC bounced, spinning its wheels in the air and biting them into the ground when it landed, teetering precariously on as little as one wheel at one point before finally settling into its suspension and getting full traction.
Farther away from the explosive exit of the APC, some of the men got themselves together a little quicker. Several shifted their focus, arming their weapons and trying to get the APC in their sights.
The main gun on the big armored vehicle whirred around, supersonic explosions erupting from it. The air ignited in a direct line from the gun to the target, and there the ground erupted and men were sent in all directions from the blast.
*****
"I have the gun," Sorilla said over the din of the APC banging around, just seconds before the cannon roared.
"Four targets down!" Chavez called. "Two ain't getting up, not without some pretty impressive prosthetics, at least! Don't know about the other two."
"As long as they're not shooting," Strickland said, "I could not care less!"
The major pulled down the security brace a little harder, cinching himself in against the jarring motion of the APC. He had the tactical overview up on his HUD, the realtime imagery from the SOL filling his worldview.
With Aida handling the gun, however the hell she was doing that, he focused on the tactical situation.
"Shift course, three...no, eight degrees east," he ordered the driver. "They opened a hole in their line when they dove for cover."
"Roger that."
They were all shoved to one side as the APC turned. The gun roared again, shaking them even through the armor.
"Two targets down," Chavez announced.
"Hold on," Sorilla spoke up. "There are too many of them. I'm not going to be able to stay ahead of them any longer. This ride is about to get bumpy!"
*****
The gun on the APC whirred and roared. Lines of fire lit the air between the APC and the shooters with every shot of the EM accelerator. Dirt exploded from the ground, throwing men and gear into the air and to the ground. Every shot of the gun took time, however--not to reload, as the weapon was an auto-cannon capable of a thousand tungsten rounds per minute, but time to re-aim.
The enemy were arrayed around the APC in all directions, and while the gun could fire extremely quickly, it could only track just so fast. Worse still, the primary targets weren't positioned in an efficient sweep either. Sorilla had to prioritize targets who were preparing to fire as the highest threats, and that could mean having to traverse the weapon entirely across the firing arc to kill the target, and then sweep right back for the next.
She tried to take out targets in mid-sweep, as opportunities arose, but inevitably she had to pass on secondary threats to engage the primaries. That, unfortunately, left the secondary to become a new primary just seconds later.
It was inevitable that she would begin reaching targets just...moments...too late.
The warping of the air flashed across the intervening space, lightning-quick but far slower than the weapon's actual effect. The APC took the hit side-on, the angled armor deflecting the force down into the ground and lifting the vehicle up on three wheels briefly as the center tire was shredded, Kevlar and carbon-reinforced polymers flying off in all directions.
True to design, however, the tire held despite missing large chunks of its body. The APC kept moving, stubbornly taking another hit and bulling on through as the big gun continued to roar with a staccato rhythm of thunder and fire.
*****
Inside, Sorilla was sitting in her command station and staring straight ahead. The gun was on auto-fire now, the computer handling the actual release of each round while she just kept control of the tracking system.
"There's too damn many," she gritted out. "Everyone get ready. If this goes wrong, we'll be on foot and fighting in the field in another minute."
"Finally," one of the Sentinels growled, eagerly shifting his grip on the alien weapon in his control.
The other Lucians growled their agreement, and it was even mirrored a bit by the human soldiers that sat across from them. Quiet Professionals or not, as patient as the soldiers of the Fifth were, they weren't entirely immune to the urge to take the fight right into the enemy's face. In fact, in the current situation, nearly every one of them wanted little more than to do just that.
"Just hang onto that attitude," the driver called, sounding insulted. "We're not toasted yet!"
They were still accelerating forward, but now the constant firing of the gun shook them in their seats and rattled everyone's teeth as the limited suspension built into the personnel bracing was completely defeated by the power of the supersonic concussion of each round.
The occasional blast of the warp guns slamming them around was just terror-filled punctuation.
"Not going to make it," Sorilla said abruptly before she called out her next instructions. "Master Sergeant, take the gun!"
"About time!" Chavez snarled, leaning into his controls and taking over the firing sequence for the APC's cannon.
He didn't have the magic touch the colonel seemed to have with predicting who was going to fire before they did it, but Chavez knew his gun better than she did. He knew how it turned, and how it fired, and just how to squeeze the best out of it in a fight. In only seconds he had the system running on efficient algorithms, picking targets out and off smoothly with the methodical certainty of a machine.
Sorilla hit the quick release on the brace holding her in place and got to her feet, bracing against the roof of the vehicle as she started moving.
"Colonel! What do you think you're doing!?" Strickland snarled, twisting so he could see her properly.
"You know what my teams called me, after Hayden?" she asked, her voice suddenly much calmer than it had been.
Strickland felt his gut churn. He knew that tone. He'd heard it before. Hell, unless he was very much mistaken, he'd used it before.
"Lieutenant Colonel..." he started, a warning growl climbing from his chest.
Sorilla got into the APC's computer and cracked the back door, opening it up to the outside as she drew her two guns.
"They started calling me a new name, behind my back," she said, smiling. "They thought I didn't know. Is it in my file, Major?"
The ramp was half down as she tensed.
"No, Colonel, it's not in your file. Now let's think about this a minute..."
"Get Eri and the prisoner out of here, Major," she said firmly. "That's an order."
As the ramp opened level with the ground, Sorilla crouched just enough to launch herself into a sprint.
"Colonel!" Strickland screamed.
Sorilla hit the ramp as fast as she could physically manage in armor, given the short takeoff and limited room. She jumped off the ramp, throwing her feet forward and her arms out to either side.
"They called me John Wayne."
*****
"Holy Shit!" Corporal Nicky Farrel blurted, leaning forward so he could see as the guns roared just as the colonel dropped out of sight.
Strickland was swearing. Most of the team looked completely baffled by what had just happened, but the Lucians on the other side had no such compunctions.
"Sentinels!" Kriss roared, laughing. "Will you let the human steal our action? Deploy!"
The aliens were laughingly hitting their quick-release catches, then following the colonel out the back of the still-racing APC.
"Holy shit," Nicky repeated himself as Strickland apparently managed to curse himself out.
"B-Squad! What are you waiting for?" he snarled. "Back the lady up! Master Sergeant! Ice those motherfuckers!"
Whatever else was going on, Nicky lost track of it in a hurry as he hit the quick-release to his restraints, grabbed his rifle, and followed his squad out the back.
****
Sorilla hit the ground on her back, skidding along the dirt- and dust-covered ground for a few meters before she slowed enough to flip back over her shoulder and use the remaining velocity to bring her to her feet.
Her guns were on full computer release as she aimed them out to either side, letting her implants fire the weapons as needed while she just worried about directing them. They fired automatically, whenever the muzzles crossed an enemy target, leaving part of her mind free to work out exactly what she was going to do now that she'd committed to insanity.
I never should have become an officer. It's just not where my strengths lie, Sorilla thought grimly as she methodically lined up target after target.
A twisting in her gut caused her to snap around, almost lining her guns up with the shooter until she recognized one of the Lucians firing his own blaster.
"I told you to stay out of this fight," she said in the clear as she recognized Kriss, picking himself up off the ground and getting his weapon to the ready. "You're injured."
"I will fight," he told her, "until the enemy is dead, or I am. Injuries do not matter."
Sorilla looked over his shoulder, spotting members of the Special Forces A-team de-assing the APC, and her lips pulled back.
"If you get my team killed," she snarled, "we will have words."
She pinged her team's implants, getting their attention, and whirled her right hand over her head.
"Security perimeter, centered on the APC, now!" she ordered. "The asset and the prisoner get clear, no matter the cost!"
Her team deployed automatically, putting an umbrella between the enemy forces and the APC, engaging a "retreat under fire" strategy as they did so. Sorilla plugged herself into their formation, feeling like old times had come back for a brief moment.
"Kriss," she called, "we have to defend the APC!"
"You defend! We attack!"
"Fuck!" Sorilla swore, connecting back to the team channel. "Give them cover if you can, but the APC is our priority!"
Chapter 15
USV SOL
Brigadier Mattan thundered into the tactical observation room of the SOL, eyes blazing.
"What the hell is going on down there?" he demanded. "This was a touring op, basic cultural intel-gathering. Sister could do this work in her sleep. How the hell did it turn into a running gun battle!?"
Ruger glanced up in his direction, shrugging. "She's not the same woman you knew in the Fifth, Mattan, but as it turns out, they apparently walked into some local drama."
"Local drama?" Mattan growled. "What kind?"
"Looks like someone took advantage of our team's arrival to trigger an assassination plan against one of the local barons," Ruger grumbled, annoyed by the whole situation. "Why they thought they'd have a better chance with a team of armed soldiers onsite, I will never understand."
"They likely didn't," Mattan said absently, focusing on the information he was seeing on the displays. "They were probably going to blame our team for the hit, figured it was worth the added risk to be able to shift the blame to outsiders. They were using Alliance weapons?"
"Confirmed, yes," Ruger said, "though the Sentinel with the team identified them as counterfeit."
That caused Mattan to pull up short. "Counterfeit? How does that work?"
"That I don't know," Ruger admitted, "but it seemed like a big deal to the Alliance. Just one more piece of this puzzle we're looking at. I'm starting to think that Aida was right from the start. This is a long way from being about a couple militant cultures kicking up a stink. Someone bigger is pulling strings."
