Gates of Hell, page 27
“I’m getting something on Aesir channels,” Levin said.
“—eam Skadi. Authentication vihtori-kuu-zeta-aarne.”
Skadi was alive? And here?
Winters looked at Sif. “What does that authentication mean?”
Sif shook her head. “Each team has a unique set of codes. The Vanir have them, but they keep them secure. I don’t know those codes.”
“Which we don’t have,” the chief said, her eyes locked on the holographic display.
“Zoom display on the far side,” Winters said.
Ships were transitioning into orbit on the opposite side of the planet from the SOG fleet. Blitzen tagged them as Force Two. They would be in an excellent position to ambush the fleet currently fighting off the boarding pods.
“Republic?” the chief asked.
“I didn’t know we could transition in so close to a planet,” Sif said.
The space around the SOG fleet was chaos, and it was hard to see what was happening with all the explosions.
Moments after Force Two transitioned into space, another fleet transitioned in, higher than the first. It was much larger and dwarfed the first SOG fleet. Blitzen tagged it as Force Three.
“If Force Two was Republic ships,” Winters said, “they just got boxed in by another SOG fleet.”
Sif winced. How far did the Vanir betrayal go? The fleet in the lower orbit would be mauled by the one with the higher orbit. The first SOG fleet coming around the planet would be a hammer to shatter the trapped fleet. Was she watching the death of the Vanir?
Identification started coming in on the trapped fleet. Most of the trapped ships in Force Two were SOG.
“A civil war?” Levin asked.
Then one shipped was flagged as the Pankhurst.
More alerts appeared as Eagle detected hard burns from incoming missiles.
Too much was happening to make sense of everything, but the trapped fleet wasn’t being destroyed. Meanwhile, SOG ships were starting to maintain course and ceased firing. Some of those SOG ships fired on their fellow SOG vessels in support of the trapped fleet.
Even at this distance, Sif could feel the evil, the hatred, the desire to dominate.
“That trapped fleet, Force Two, contains the Pankhurst,” Levin said. “SOG vessels in Force One and Three are firing at each other.”
Sif felt an undercurrent of fear and panic seep through the hatred.
The Pankhurst and other ships launched drop pods toward the planet. The Tiananmen launched drop pods as it skirted the battle before changing course toward deep space.
Shortly after the Tiananmen retreated into wormhole space more SOG ships fled, leaving about half their number behind.
“Two more fleets inbound,” Levin said, and the screen zoomed out. “I’m getting ID on one. Force Four is the Republic. The other fleet, designated Force Five, is the Golden Horde?”
“Sometime allies of the Republic,” Sif said.
Missiles from both fleets slammed into the SOG survivors who had not fled, and the crew of Eagle watched as the fleet, led by the Pankhurst, accelerated toward the Golden Horde ships in Force Five.
Without warning, both the Republic and Golden Horde fleets transitioned into wormhole space and Sif let out a sigh of relief. She didn’t want to think about what would have happened if the fleet containing the Pankhurst had reached the Republic. Someone was paying attention.
“Smarter than I expected,” Winters said.
“They probably saw what happened to the SOG fleets too, ma’am,” Levin said. “They should know what happened in Tau Ceti. Nasaraf can take over ships from a distance.”
“They’re also probably shitting their collective pants,” Winters said. “Maintain stealth. Let’s see what happens, but if they notice us or start in our direction, we are leaving. The gunny might still be on that planet.”
“The Tupolev and the Tiananmen both escaped,” Levin said.
“But the Tiananmen sent down a bunch of drop pods,” Winters said. “Maybe a battalion, which means if the gunny is still with them, he could be on the planet or on the Tiananmen.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Levin said.
“Since we don’t know where the Tiananmen went, we will stay and watch,” Winters said.
“But if he’s on the planet,” Sif said, “we don’t have a stealth craft to rescue him.”
“Let’s watch and see,” Winters said. “I’ll bet the gunny could make a shuttle out of duct tape, shoe polish, and cardboard if he had to.”
Sif raised an eyebrow.
“Some Marine staff NCOs are like that,” Winters said smiling. “I’ll bet Gunny is one of them.”
“He is, ma’am,” Levin said. “He certainly is.”
* * * * *
Chapter Sixty-Three: Battle of Four Fleets
Gunnery Sergeant Wolf Mathison, USMC
Of all the bad things that could happen, Mathison had to watch Stathis try to shoot the incoming corvette as he listened to the SOG battle fleet deal with boarders. Apparently, the boarders were not humans or robots, but a description of “monsters” did not give Mathison much information. People were also complaining about malfunctions, bleeding consoles, and demonic ghosts. It sounded like when the Pankhurst was first attacked.
The corvette coming at them, identified as “68402,” seemed to effortlessly dodge Stathis’ fire.
“Can’t you let Shrek help?” Mathison asked.
“He is,” Stathis said. “That is one slippery bastard, Gunny.”
68402 was not firing and that worried Mathison. Was it going to ram them?
A chill ran down Mathison’s spine and he felt a sense of wrongness about everything. What was happening? He checked the board. Were they getting ready to transition into a wormhole?
The missiles coming in from deep space heading for the SOG fleet were being intercepted by the corvette screen and fighter drones, but based on the panic he was hearing, there were problems getting the drone fighters away, there was interference and electronics weren’t working right.
“The drones are now broadcasting,” Freya said. “We are getting polled by the SOG, but I think they’re a little too busy to ask us too many questions. They are thanking us for the warning, though.”
The corvette screen was dying as missiles targeted them instead of the larger ships. All the SOG vessels were sending out a wall of half millimeter pellets to hit incoming missiles. There were too many incoming missiles and not nearly enough counter-missile fire.
“Those poor bastards,” Skadi said, looking at the SOG fleet. They were going to get hit from two angles, from the vanhat and the Republic.
“They’re too low in the gravity well to escape,” Niels said. “The corvette screen is also way out of position. The Vanir aren’t working with the vanhat, are they?”
“Those bastards better not be,” Skadi said.
Turbulence rocked Patriot and Mathison heard whispers too faint to make out the words.
“I’ve got a bad feeling about this, Gunny,” Stathis said.
Orbit was absolute chaos. Too much happening, too many groups, too quickly.
“Kill the bastard, then,” Mathison said.
“I’m trying, Gunny.” Stathis sounded worried. “I can’t hit the bastard, though. He’s too slippery.”
The SOG long-range sensors showed two fleets coming in from different angles. Both had pirate icons, but one fleet was the Vapaus Republic and the other was the Golden Horde. They had a screen of lighter ships in front and Mathison saw several ships larger than the dreadnoughts: three Vanir battlestars.
Nasaraf’s ships were coming around and the vanhat missiles slammed into the SOG fleet like a shotgun blast. Countless missiles exploded when they slammed into the screen of pellets, but many made it through. The SOG anti-missile missiles tried to stop the remaining ordnance, but they were near worthless. Numerous ships exploded, but not as many as Mathison would have expected.
Out of the corner of his eye, Mathison saw something float through the wall, but when he turned to look at it disappeared.
“I’m going hullu,” Niels said.
“Wormhole effect,” Skadi said. “Nothing is real.”
“We aren’t in a wormhole,” Niels said.
The whisper became louder. Mathison still couldn’t make out what it was saying, but he heard the anger and hate.
“I’m losing control of the ship,” Freya said. “Something is interfering with the systems.”
“You really need to kill that ship, Stathis,” Mathison said.
“I’m a Marine, not a freaking squidbert, Gunny. I think I need to stick with rifles.”
“Spacebert,” Mathison said, correcting Stathis. “And you are a Marine. Marines kill things with whatever tools they have. And that thing needs to die.”
“We’re starting to drop like a rock. I don’t have control. Power failure, control plane failure.”
A beam leapt from the attacking corvette and slashed the side of Patriot. The ship shuddered and Mathison wondered if he was going to die because Patriot crashed or because the enemy corvette shot them to pieces.
The console started to bleed. Mathison stared at it. That couldn’t be blood. No. He had pulled that console apart. There was nothing red in there, and there was no reason for it to bleed.
“Do something,” Skadi said. “Can’t your SCBIs do something?”
“More emergences,” Freya reported. “Almost right above us in high orbit.”
Or they’d be shot down by the additional forces, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do. Another beam from the corvette reached out and cut into Patriot.
“New emergences identified as SOG,” Freya reported.
Crap.
“They’re engaging Nasaraf forces,” Freya reported. “We are in range. I’m counting a force of six dreadnoughts and numerous battleships, battle cruisers, and destroyers.”
“Oh Gods,” Skadi said, watching what was arriving.
The vanhat ships turned and headed toward the new SOG fleet.
Then, something that should have been impossible, a battleship noticed the corvette attacking Patriot and fired at it. Mathison expected it to fire at them at any moment.
Corvette 68402 spun and dodged but the combined fire from Stathis and the battleship were too much and it erupted in a fireball.
“Control is returning but we are no longer space worthy,” Freya reported. “I think I can crash without killing us.”
“If they don’t shoot us down first,” Mathison said.
“Incoming transmission from the battleship,” Freya said. “This isn’t good.”
“This is the SOG Tupolev to corvette 7082. You are hereby ordered to stand to and prepare to be boarded or you will be destroyed.”
“Seriously?” Stathis said.
“Open a link,” Mathison said, hating the SOG with every fiber of his being. To be saved and betrayed so suddenly.
“Tupolev, this is Patriot. We cannot comply. You can either shoot us out of the sky or pick up our pieces after we crash. Your choice.”
“Identify yourself,” another voice said.
The ground was coming up fast. At least the console had stopped bleeding. There were no good options.
“This is Gunnery Sergeant Wolf Mathison of the United States Marine Corps. Go ahead and shoot. Even if we could heave-to we wouldn’t. You bastards won’t capture us alive, not again.”
“Ooorah,” Stathis said, but his heart wasn’t in it.
“Is Skadi with you?” the Tupolev asked.
Surprised, Mathison looked at Skadi.
“You know him?” Mathison asked her.
Skadi shook her head.
“None of your business,” Mathison said, letting his anger out. “Are you going to shoot? I’ve seen the SOG shoot; I’m not impressed. I’ll bet we slam into the ground first. You guys suck.”
The Tupolev remained silent as Patriot plummeted planetward.
“Do you have any control?” Mathison asked Freya.
“Some. Are you trying to get the Tupolev to shoot us?”
“I would rather get shot than fall to my death.” Mathison felt the straps through his armor. as gravity took hold of the ship. He never liked those amusement rides where it felt like you were falling. Like now.
“It isn’t the fall that kills you, Gunny.”
“Yeah. It’s the sudden stop at the end. Har-har, Private. Now shut up so I can die in peace.”
“PFC, Gunny. You promoted me.”
“Private First Class is still a private.”
“Can’t you two be a little more relevant?” Skadi asked. “Your conversation is pointless and doesn’t help.”
“Why? Do you think there’s something we can do about our situation? Maybe get out and flap our arms? It’s a little too late to try the bean burrito blast off technique.”
Stathis held onto his seat with his eyes closed. “Gunny, you and the lojtnant might have a few seconds if you want to share a moment.”
“Hold on,” Freya said.
Mathison didn’t know what she was talking about. He was holding on.
Patriot lurched hard and slammed everyone into their seats. A roar drowned out everything and Mathison was thankful his helmet was on, or he would have been deafened. His stomach spun, and he wanted to vomit. He closed his eyes, which didn’t help, but neither did opening them. For a second, the ship was in free fall, then it slammed into something again, then again before sinking slightly.
There was a sudden jerk, and Patriot stopped moving.
“Oh shit,” Stathis said, groaning.
Mathison waited for the ship to move again. The red emergency lights were on, and he expected the gravity to shift any second, that the ship would reach its limit and fall again.
“This ship won’t fly again,” Freya said.
“I may never walk again. You kind of alluded to that when you said it was no longer spaceworthy,” Mathison said. “And then we fell.”
“Oh shit,” Stathis said again.
“What?” Mathison said.
“I was just joking, Gunny, about you and the lojtnant. Please don’t kill me.”
“You’ve just been busted back to private,” Mathison said, trying not to show his relief.
“I guess you win your bet with the Tupolev,” Niels said.
“Damn,” Mathison said.
“There’s a small city about six kilometers away,” Freya reported. “I don’t know if that’s good or bad. We’re several hundred kilometers from Zhukov City, but I didn’t see any lights on in the city during our fall.”
“Is it day or night here?” Mathison asked, though he thought he should know.
“Night.”
“What are the chances the Tupolev lost track of us?” Mathison asked, unbuckling.
“Not good.”
“We need to get out of here ASAP,” Mathison said. “There could be a kinetic strike on its way right now.”
“Or Peacekeeper assault shuttles and gunships,” Skadi said.
“Gunny?”
“What, Private?”
“I think you should stick to being a gunnery sergeant. I hate to tell you this, but as a ship’s captain, you suck.”
“Thank you, Admiral Stathis, for that wonderful gem of knowledge,” Mathison said patiently. “If it’s any consolation, you’re just as competent a spacer as a Marine private fresh out of boot camp.”
“Really?” Stathis said, sitting up and sounding hopeful.
“No, you’re worse,” Mathison said. “Now, shut up. We need to get out of here.”
“Oh,” Skadi said.
Mathison heard a tone in her voice that couldn’t be good. “What?”
“Vince,” Skadi said. “He didn’t make it.”
“I’m sorry,” Mathison said.
“He had no armor,” Skadi said. “Bern is seriously injured. Vili is trying to help him now. His arm and shoulder are crushed.”
“How bad?” Mathison asked.
“It is bad, but he should live. Shattered arm and ribs. His legs are fine,” Skadi said. “He’s being filled with pain killers. Not sure if we can save the arm, but we probably won’t have to carry him; his nanites are working.”
“Let’s get out of here, then,” Mathison said. “Stathis, I want you to grab as much ammo as you can carry. Also, get some of those SOG blazer carbines and at least one of the long rifles.”
“Aye, Gunny.” Stathis pulled himself to his feet. He wasn’t as steady or fast as Mathison expected, but he understood when he tried to stand. Patriot was tilted at a slight angle and his bones and muscles felt like jelly. The adrenaline was draining from his system, and he was exhausted.
* * * * *
Chapter Sixty-Four: Gunny
Kapten Sif - VRAEC, Nakija Musta Toiminnot
The bridge was quiet as everyone watched the ships circle Zhukov. The SOG and the Republic had left, and Sif wasn’t sure either would come back.
Half the SOG ships had not fled and were now flying with the fleet that included the Pankhurst. There was no formation and no apparent organization to the fleet. It was merely a mob of ships that somehow avoided colliding with each other. The passive sensors couldn’t pick up any radio communications between the ships so they were using tight beam or something else, and that bothered Sif on several levels. They were not human, or they would be using a recognizable technology, but if they were using a different technology, why were they stealing human ships?
“The gunny is alive,” Levin said smiling.
“How do you know?” Sif asked.
“My SCBI is getting a transmission on an Aesir emergency frequency,” Levin said.
“In the clear?” Sif asked.
Levin smiled. “Encrypted. It’ll probably take the SOG a few decades to decrypt it.”
“What do you mean?” Sif asked.
“It’s a language only the SCBIs understand,” Levin said. “Then it’s encrypted with encryption keys they share.”
“Why is the language important?” Sif asked.
Winters smiled. “SCBIs are not human. They can talk at a more basic, more intuitive level. It’s not the first time machines have communicated with each other in a language people can’t understand. I think there was a company in the early twenty-first century that was experimenting. They shut down the experiment when two of their AIs started talking to each other in a language the developers couldn’t understand. It scared the crap out of them.”
