Sol in Flames (Battleborn c23 Book 1), page 24
The green color came from the algae farms that enveloped the entire station. The genetically engineered. high-performance plants supplied the station with oxygen and helped treat wastewater by feeding on human excrement. They could also be harvested and processed into food, though not particularly high-quality food. And last but not least, the several-yard-deep water tanks in which they grew shielded the station from cosmic radiation.
The closer they got the more details became visible. The rotation used to simulate gravity inside the cylinder habitat was now clearly visible. Only the central axis with the docks protruding from the cylinder at both ends and the fan-like radiators stood still.
With any luck, the man they were looking for was somewhere in this structure.
"Hold on!" warned Ellie, just before she ended the braking maneuver, turned the ship again, and headed for one of the ends of the cylinder with the maneuvering thrusters in an elongated loop. The camera feed disappeared from the screen to make way for the real image. Then they dove into the interior of Aurora. The Earth's surface, and then the stars faded behind brightly lit structures. Kareena briefly struggled to orient herself and identify the various sections of the station. Ahead of them, the motionless hub of docks stretched the entire length of Aurora. Dozens of shuttles and small starships were moored there. Around it, the habitat with living sectors spun like a city rolled up into a monumental cylinder. The sight was dizzying. Kareena could make out complex structures, and buildings. Towers that extended into the interior entered her field of vision through the Habitat's rotation and disappeared again. The one-mile-long rotating cylinder was connected to the hub by six spokes at the center of the station, which extended like oversized columns through the vacuum of the interior space where the Hugin was approaching its assigned docking site. Then the ship turned, completely disorienting Kareena again before a gentle jolt reported that they had docked.
"Welcome to Aurora," Ellie announced with her characteristic cheerfulness.
At the moment, Kareena could only share such feelings to a limited extent.
12-02-2210, Rheinberg Refugee Camp, Federation Border Zone, Earth
"Mace?" Skip looked at the Alpha-class mutant in disbelief. "I thought you were in Antarctica."
"Was almost on my way," the giant replied. "But then Ascon decided to kick out all the mutants. Public pressure was too great, and the Norms rebelled internally, too. Was a big shit storm, let me tell you."
They bumped forearms against each other.
"Good to see you," Skip said.
"Not so easy getting to you, Skip. Or should I say Avenger?"
"Skip's all right, old friend."
Skip's gaze lingered on the scabbed wounds on the alpha-class worker's head and face. "Did the Norms have to jump to be able to hit you that high?"
Mace rubbed a hand over the largest of the injuries. "Once you're on the ground, they can even reach with their boots."
Skip nodded. "Been there, done that. Was that in The Hague?"
"Yes. Up until a few days ago, it was all right, at least in Corporation territory. We haven't had to show our faces in the public sectors for weeks. That's also why we were hanging around there in the first place. They didn't dare send us to the airport. They were afraid that their property could be damaged. But it really started after your nice little message to the rest of the world. As far as I heard, the Federation questioned the extraterritoriality of the arcology if they harbored mutants there. I don't think anyone wanted to take that chance. So, they shoved us out the door."
"Shit," Skip cursed. "That's not what we were going for with this."
"Don't worry about it!" the Alpha reassured him. "It was only a matter of time before this went down one way or the other anyway. This way, at least we have clarity now. None of the people I came here with are blaming you guys. The Feds started the war. Let them have it!"
Skip put his hand on the giant's arm. "Glad to hear you see it that way. Are you coming with me? I was just on my way to the briefing when you intercepted me."
Mace frowned. "Situation briefing? Might be a little high-up for me, don't you think?"
Skip laughed. "You think I'd be better off there? I wasn't trained to organize an armed insurrection, either."
The Alpha was still unconvinced. "Surely they don't want to know the opinion of a drill rig mechanic."
"I'll just tell them you're my new bodyguard."
A grin spread across Mace's face. "I might like that."
Skip nudged an elbow into the giant's side. "Come along, then!"
Closely followed by his old friend, Skip entered the new headquarters. Blackheart and her warriors had erected a fully functional command post in a very short time. It was located in a building adjacent to the Armageddon, at a sufficient distance to avoid being immediately reduced to rubble should the Feds still choose to bombard Cerberus' old headquarters, but close enough to establish a direct line to Terrie's empire under the supply cellar. Since the Federation had cut all official communication lines to Rheinberg, the hacker's illegal channels had been the refugee camp's main link with the outside world. Blackheart considered direct contact between the command center and the communications center indispensable, and no one had objected.
When Skip entered the room, the new commander of the assault troops stood surrounded by her closest loyalists around the freshly installed holoprojector. Without the battle suits, the Omegas looked almost slight next to the Alpha-class workers. However, as Skip approached and stood immediately next to Blackheart, her six-and-a-half-foot height towered over him by about half a head.
He recognized the map of Rheinberg that he had made to distribute to the new arrivals. The military had added numerous lines, markings, and comments in different colors. His rough sketch had turned into a professional site plan. Everyone present glanced at him as he entered. A few questioning looks were directed at Mace, but no one questioned the Alpha's presence.
"What's the situation?" interjected Skip.
"On a tactical or strategic level?" asked Blackheart.
He frowned. In the last day or two, she had begun asking him odd questions or commenting critically on his remarks. In principle, there was nothing wrong with that. But she put an undertone in her words that he did not like. But now was not the time for such discussions.
"Let's start with the overall situation," he decided, "Has our appeal borne fruit?"
Those gathered cleared a space for him in the circle.
"Our information is pretty limited," Blackheart began. "The Federation has not yet imposed an official news blackout, but reporting is significantly limited. What little Terry has gleaned indicates that the entire Federation military is in turmoil. Especially the space forces. There appears to have been several mutinies. We've picked up a couple of garbled messages that say entire ship crews want to join us. Among them is even one of the three big fleet carriers of the Federation, the Donar. I'm still cautious about that. Could be a trap. But if it's true, we've really accomplished something."
"That sounds like a good thing," Skip agreed. "What about on the ground?"
They all studied the hologram of the refugee camp.
"These are our current defensive positions," Blackheart explained, pointing to various points on the map. They largely corresponded to the makeshift positions they had already set up before the assault by the storm troops. So, they did not seem to have done everything wrong even without military training. However, the armament of the posts had improved incomparably since the arrival of the Omegas.
"We can certainly hold out for a while against further infantry attacks," she continued. "Unless the Feds send other assault troops here. But they're probably not that stupid, if they have any loyal assault troops left at all. The camp is not tactically optimal, but it basically serves our needs."
Skip wanted to take the opportunity to learn something about the art of war. "In what way?"
Without looking up, Blackheart continued, "The dense buildings prevent the use of large equipment inside the camp. Here across the river, they can advance with hover tanks, but from the cover of the buildings we could probably fight them well. Our anti-aircraft capabilities are not optimal. Our equipment is designed for short-range combat."
"What do you mean 'short'?"
"The plasma blasters are effective up to a range of about one hundred yards. Against armored targets, considerably less. Excellent in urban combat, but of limited use in open terrain. In open terrain, our only chance is an offensive attack to bridge the distance to the enemy as quickly as possible and then go into close combat. Had we known our mission profile would change so radically, we would have packed more long-range weapons."
"What did you guys bring?"
"A handful of anti-aircraft missiles and half a dozen railguns."
" We got plenty of railguns from the Feds," Rhino interjected.
Blackheart gave the Alpha a disdainful sideways glance. "They're toys. Adequate for security forces, but certainly not what we need in the current situation. I'm talking about military equipment. Four hundred Kilojoules per projectile. Flak-proof. Your small stuff won't do a thing if they come with armored units. Or have you already forgotten how effective your resistance was against us?"
Skip calmed the discussion with a soothing gesture. "We get it, Blackheart. We'll just have to see that we make the most of what we have available. The railguns we took from the Feds aren't too bad against anything less armored than you. At least the very least, we can keep them from further police action. We just have to use the heavy calibers sparingly."
"We already do," Blackheart explained, visibly trying to be patient with the clueless civilians. "The heavy railguns we have are spread around the camp. We can't repel a strategic air strike with them, but it should be sufficient against copters or other ground attack systems. Unless they want to wipe out the entire camp with an area bombardment, it will be hard for them to get us out of here. But I don't expect them to attack us anyway."
"They'll also know they'll have a hard time fighting you guys."
"They'll also know they won't have to fight us at all."
Skip was confused. "Why is that?"
"Our problem isn't the tactical situation, it's supply logistics," the soldier explained. "The company is equipped to hold a position self-sufficiently for about a week. As long as we don't get involved in any more battles, we can extend that period a bit. But sooner or later, we'll need a working supply of helium-3 for the microreactors in the combat suits, but most importantly, tranquilizers."
Skip was confused. "Tranquilizers?"
He sensed a slight uneasiness among the Omegas around him at this topic. Blackheart's tone also changed a bit as she continued.
"Combat mutants are designed to act in combat situations without regard for the enemy or their own integrity, and to react quickly to any change in the situation," she explained with a hint of embarrassment in her voice. "Outside of combat, these traits are sometimes more of a ... hindrance. Without tranquilizers, we probably wouldn't be having this conversation in such a relaxed manner."
Skip tried to correctly classify what he had just heard. "Are you trying to tell me that when you run out of tranquilizers, you become berserkers, beating the crap out of everything without distinguishing friend from foe?"
"It's not quite like that," Blackheart disagreed, "but the drugs help us not overreact to certain tense situations."
Skip took a deep breath. "That's a thoroughly valuable piece of information."
"We specialize in quick, offensive operations," Thunderbolt explained. "Garrison duty or other lengthy defensive tasks are not usually within our purview."
"All right," Skip looked at the somewhat concerned faces of the warriors. "Do you guys have a plan?"
Blackheart took the floor again. "In principle, we do: we need to get out of here. And we have to do it before we run out of pharmaceutical supplies or helium-3."
"And go where? To the metroplex? I'm not sure that's a good idea."
She shook her head. "I agree with that. We shouldn't mess with the Kons. The Federation military has been weakened since we spoke, because a lot of the Omegas and other mutants are rebelling. But the corporations probably still have enough special forces to make life difficult for us. Besides, they are much less squeamish in their methods. They don't need to keep voters happy. I wouldn't put it past them to carry out an area bombing if they could get rid of us that way."
"A Federation military base then," Skip suggested.
"Preferably an assault infantry base," Blackheart agreed. "We'll have everything we need there."
"OK. Where's the nearest base?"
"In orbit."
Skip paused. "Isn't there a base on the surface of the Earth?"
"Yes, but first, we have to fight far through enemy territory to do so, and second, we are at a tactical disadvantage there. The earthbound bases are far from the cities. There they can deploy tanks. We can handle them in close combat, but at a distance they have the advantage on their side. Our best chance is to leave the earth's surface. If we manage to get to an orbital station, we are safe from all tanks and similar weapon systems. In space, we're the most combat-ready weapons class."
"And what if they arrive with warships or something?" Skip wanted to know.
Blackheart waved it off. "First of all, according to Terry's information, the Federation space forces are largely busy with themselves right now. As I just said, they have the highest percentage of mutants there and our call has not gone unheard. Second, they can't bombard a space station with warships without endangering the entire station. Up there, they'll only be able to attack us with infantry. We have a realistic chance against them."
"OK, I get that so far. The question remains: how do we get there? Even the landing ships that brought you into Earth's atmosphere left after you defected. There isn't a single spaceship in all of Rheinberg."
"Not in Rheinberg," Blackheart conceded, "but the nearest spaceport is not far away."
"Düsseldorf?"
"That's the one." The Omega warrior expanded the holoplane's view to include the entire northern part of the Metroplex. "It's about thirty to forty kilometers from here to there."
"Twenty to twenty-five miles of the most densely populated city," Skip objected.
"That's exactly our chance!" countered Blackheart. "As I said before, in the open we'd be outgunned by tanks and other heavy weapons. In the city, we're at least their equal."
"But there are thousands and thousands of people living there!"
"People who would love to see us dead."
Skip could hardly believe what he was hearing. "You're actually going to accept that a large number of bystanders will die in the process?"
"It's them or us. Make up your mind before you go to war!"
Skip looked around. The Omegas' expressions were stiff. Rhino rubbed his face thoughtfully. Mace looked intently at the map. Valiant sat apart, watching them with disdain.
"There must be another way," Skip demanded. He looked at the map. Thought hard. "What about the river? The Rhine runs right past the spaceport. Mace, you just traveled here from The Hague. There should be heaps of ships at the piers by now, all the refugees arrived on them."
The Alpha-class worker was a bit overwhelmed by spontaneously switching from his role as bodyguard to an advisory role. "Um ... yeah ... yeah. So, there's a lot of ships. And hovercrafts, too. Yeah, well, that's kind of hard to even find a place to dock there."
"There you go," Skip relieved his friend. "Ships and hovercrafts. We can get to the spaceport with them. And a lot faster than going through the middle of town."
Blackheart studied the map. Her critical gaze followed the course of the river, which wound like a deep gorge between the corporate towers and arcologies on either bank. She shook her head. "That's where they're most likely to intercept us with copters and hover tanks."
"So?" interjected Skip. "You just said yourself you can handle them if they attack across the river. Does it make a difference if you're here in camp or on ships?"
"The risk of taking losses is greater on the river."
Skip didn't let up. "Losses aside: Can we get through it or not?"
Thunderbolt took the floor as Blackheart remained silent, "Copters don't have much room to maneuver between the tall buildings. There's a good chance we'll be able to engage them effectively. Guided missiles could be a problem. But even those are limited in their movement to the course of the river. We should be able to deal with that with the decoys. The speed of the ships and hovercrafts is a real advantage over going through the city. That way we can make it to the spaceport area in less than an hour. With any luck, they won't have set up a defensive line by then. I don't think the plan to advance across the river is so bad."
The scowl Blackheart gave her colleague did not escape Skip's notice. The two would have something to work out.
"All right," Skip said, "if no one else has any more objections ..." He looked each of those assembled in the eye "... then it's decided: We'll take the river." He zoomed the map view to the north of Düsseldorf. "Assuming we manage to take the spaceport, what's our next move?"
