Authors: Bennett R. Coles
“Mother, Alpha-One—strike zone clear.”
“Mother, concur. Twenty seconds to town square. At T-plus-two we roll and release.”
“Alpha-One, roger.” Switch freqs. “Twenty seconds to drop. Roll and release. Simultaneous.”
“Bravo-One,”
Chang said.
“Alpha-Five,”
Cohen said.
“Bravo-Five,”
Alayan said.
Pod pilots rarely spoke. Cohen and Alayan were scared.
Rapier
was still moving at more than one thousand kph. The outskirts of Free Lhasa were a gray blur mixed with the fire of
Kristiansand
’s bombardment.
“Stand by…” Katja said. The top turret exploded to life again. She gritted her teeth as the ship rolled.
“Now!”
Her seat punched her from underneath. Her suit flattened against her chest. Stars danced in her eyes.
The city of Free Lhasa spread before her. The roar faded. Deceleration ended. The two little ships raced over the rooftops toward their target at two hundred kph. Katja looked off to her left, and saw
Rapier
pulling through a broad, fast turn, top, bottom, and tail turrets still firing at the city square. It was a total diversion to keep the Cerberan defenses focused on the square. Katja hoped it would work.
The true strike zone was a series of residential buildings on the outskirts of town. The strike pods covered the distance from the square in ninety seconds. Katja heard rifles come out, and safeties click off. She looked down at the streets and saw hundreds of people running amidst recklessly driven trucks. What had been rage a few hours ago now seemed turned to panic under
Kristiansand
’s relentless bombardment.
Katja felt her lip curl in a snarl.
Smash the motherfuckers.
The pods landed hard on the roof of the designated building, blasting the sentries with their thrusters. As the hatch opened and her troopers disembarked, the
tock-boom
of suppressing fire told Katja that the landing zone was not yet secure. A second later, she was out of the pod.
“Mother, Alpha-One. Touchdown, ops red.”
Pause.
“Mother, roger.”
Thomas did not sound calm.
The splattered remains of several terrorists colored the flat surface. Alpha Team and Bravo Team fanned out to secure the surrounding area, including adjoining buildings. No more shots were fired. Katja activated her quantum-field vision and looked down through the roof. Clear below. Sentries at the stairwell.
But Astral troopers in armored suits didn’t need stairs.
She gestured to Chang.
I see. Four. Down one floor. There. Take.
Bravo Team advanced on the stairs, firing their explosive rounds directly into the roof of the building. The multiple blasts mixed with screams from below. Bravo Team, led by Chang, jumped down the hole and started clearing the third story.
“Alpha-One, Bravo-One,”
Chang said.
“Clear for descent.”
Katja suddenly remembered that, in her armored spacesuit, their voices couldn’t be heard from the outside. Her hand gestures had been pure reflex.
“Alpha-One,” she replied, leading her team down the hole, landing heavily in her suit. She still had her helmet locked down—very handy in smoke and flame—but her audio sensors let her hear what was occurring around her. The crackle of burnt plastic and metal filled the stairwell. Off to the side a loud
thump
told her Bravo Team was moving through the third story of apartments. Katja focused her quantum viewer down the next floor.
It was clear.
“Bravo-One, Alpha-One—descending to two in the clear.”
“Bravo-One.”
Katja led the way down the stairs and peered over her rifle at the stairwell. Quantum-flux revealed no one beyond the walls, so she moved to lead them through the door, but Hernandez put a firm hand on her armored shoulder.
She frowned, and nodded. The rest of her team took the lead. Alpha-Two and Alpha-Four burst through the door and thundered down the corridor, returning from their sweep just as Bravo Team came down the stairs.
She quantum-scanned the first floor. It was crowded with people. A group hunched ready near the stairwell, likely waiting to ambush any intruders who came that way. A second, larger group was farther off to the side, and vague in the flux—most likely the hostages and their captors. Unfortunately the hostages were wearing dress uniforms, which lacked the quantum signature patches that would confirm their identities.
“Alpha-One, Alpha-Five. Suspect activity on the streets outside your building.”
Katja paused. “Alpha-One, roger. Is the threat imminent?”
“Negative, but growing.”
Instead of asking for more detail, she chose to focus on the immediate task—retrieve the hostages. She addressed her assembled troopers.
“Bravo Team will strike first to draw their attention and take out the group at the stairs. Then Alpha Team will drop into the middle of the first floor—our objective is the hostages.”
Alpha Team thumped down the corridor to the midway point. Katja heard the explosions behind them as Bravo Team opened fire on the floor above their targets. There was a lot of shooting and shouting at that end of the building, and quantum revealed a flurry of activity below her, as more terrorists went to help in the defense of the stairs.
Katja and her team lined up their weapons and fired at the floor. Carefully placed explosive rounds struck the hard plastic and detonated in a storm of fire and smoke. Charred particles bounced harmlessly off her suit and mask, and she leaned in to look through the gap in the floor. There was room to jump.
She gestured emphatically.
“Go!”
Alpha-Two and Alpha-Four dropped through the hole, and the thunder of gunfire echoed up. Katja and Hernandez were right behind.
The servos cushioned her fall, but she still winced as she hit the floor. Bullets thudded into her chest armor, and she fired off three rounds into the violent fray.
Already the entire floor was choked with dust and smoke. Katja used her quantum-flux to see through the haze, and spotted a small figure in an attack position. She fired, and saw the figure disintegrate as the round impacted flesh and exploded.
“This is Alpha-Two,”
Assad said in a cool voice.
“Tally-ho hostages, north end.”
Katja and Hernandez turned together and ran toward the north end of the building, their suits protecting them from the horror of battle. Through the chaos, they saw Assad and Jackson gathering up the hostages.
Katja did a quick survey. Five hostages. All wounded. Two critically. But alive. She even took an extra moment to survey the injuries on Jack, Breeze’s boy-toy. His face was badly bruised and his nose was broken, but his limbs were intact. Based on the footage alone Katja guessed that he had internal injuries. He was pale under the caked blood, but breathing.
He stared up at her with bleary eyes.
“Hey, you’re Astral Corps…”
She nodded. “And you’re a pilot. Can you stand?”
He winced as he shuffled onto his knees.
“I think so.”
Katja put an armored arm around his torso and lifted him gently to his feet. He winced, and leaned heavily on her.
“All units, Alpha-One. RV north end for hostage extraction. Pods, report to street level. Bravo-One, pilots.”
“Bravo-One.”
“Alpha-Five.”
“Bravo-Five.”
Switch freqs. “Mother, Alpha-One. Break away.”
“Mother, roger. We’re already en route—we have reports of armed insurgents closing your position.”
Bravo Team thundered through the broken walls, firing back as they came. Alpha Team broke out a pair of stretchers and loaded up Jack and the other badly injured hostage, a woman in her late thirties. The remaining hostages were assigned to carry the stretchers.
“Alpha-One, Alpha-Five.”
It was Cohen’s voice.
“There are hostiles in the streets, closing fast.”
“Alpha-One.” She pointed at the nearest wall. “Make a door!”
Troopers fired. The wall exploded outward. The heavy beams holding the second floor buckled dangerously.
“Move!”
With Bravo Team in the lead, the strike team burst out onto the street, fanning out in a circular pattern around the strike pods as they touched down.
Locals were fleeing in all directions. A truck swerved to avoid running into pedestrians and crashed into a building half a block away. Through the chaos, Katja heard the distinct sound of rifle fire.
“Bravo-One—sniper!”
Troopers opened fire in all directions. Explosions tore through the pre-fab structures. Dust and debris choked the street.
Katja hustled the hostages toward the pods.
“Cease fire! Find your targets!”
The hostages started loading up into the strike pods, but the Fleet crewmen weren’t as efficient as troopers, they were injured and they were carrying stretchers. It took longer than it should, and there was more hostile fire inbound. Katja ran through the smoke to where her troopers had formed a perimeter.
Beyond them, dim figures ran in the street.
Jackson fired several rounds. Screams echoed off of the buildings.
“Cease fire!” Katja commanded. “Target hostiles only!” She crouched as bullets whizzed by. Quantum-flux range was too limited. She switched to infrared. Dozens of warm bodies moved in frantic motion through the chaos. Mostly away from them.
But some weren’t running. She zeroed in on the cool, practiced movements of several figures on the third floor of the building to her right. They carried weapons, which weren’t raised. One appeared to be speaking into a radio.
“Alpha-One—tally-ho forward spotter. Building right, third floor!” She loosed three rounds into the structure. The infrared images of the enemy were lost in the ensuing explosions. They disappeared from sight.
“Alpha-One, Mother. Report of heavies inbound from the south. Get airborne!”
Katja hesitated. Neither team could go until the hostages were loaded.
“All units, Alpha-One. Heavies from the south. Form a barrier. On me!”
The streets were crowded with civilians, some throwing rocks but the others warily holding their distance as the entire strike team formed up in a battle line south of the pods. The dust was swirling, but clearing.
The first indication she had of the threat was a glint of metal around the corner to her left. Then a tall, silvery machine rolled into view on its armored tracks, a repeating cannon blasting to life from its humanoid shoulder. Katja gasped as she was knocked backward by the impact of heavy slugs. She stumbled to one knee and swung around to fire on fully automatic.
Her troopers joined her barrage, and within seconds the attacking robot slumped forward, its limb-weapons shattered. A Centauri anti-personnel robot.
Katja switched back to IR and saw five more robots rumbling forward, marked by their power sources, still blocked by the building. She rose to her feet, unable to stop herself from shuffling backward three steps. Centauri APRs. On Cerberus.
“Bravo loaded!”
She barely registered Alayan’s voice, her attention riveted on the approach of the Centauri war machines. She had been lucky with the first one—it hadn’t had the chance to fire its rockets. But her troopers stood no chance against five such opponents.
Then it sank in—Bravo’s hostages were loaded.
“Bravo Team, break away!”
Chang and his troopers backed up, still facing the threat as they climbed the ramp into their ship. Good troopers never fled, they only withdrew.
“Stand by for APR attack. Target weapon pods—use grenades!”
Three men stood with her, rifles raised. The five APRs were still around the corner, but coming. Ten seconds, at most. She dared not look back. The distant crowd of civilians was inching closer as well, shouting and waving their fists.
“Alpha-One, Mother. Report your status!”
“Bravo Team breaking away. Alpha Team still loading. We are engaging Centauri Alpha-Papa-Romeos at the drop zone. Request immediate assistance!”
“Mother, roger!”
As Katja saw the first of the APRs come around the corner, she prayed for the swift, dark form of
Rapier
to come roaring overhead, cannons blazing.
Rapier
did not come, but Thomas didn’t let her down.
The air burned as meteors struck down from on high. Katja grunted and fell as the ground heaved beneath her. Orange fire filled her vision. Her external audio screamed and went dead.
She rolled over onto her belly, pointing her rifle toward the threat. But twisted heaps of molten metal were all that remained of the Centauri APRs. Crumbling heaps of rubble had replaced the corners of the buildings. Devastation reigned for a hundred meters in all directions from the blast.
Katja and her troopers had been protected by their armored suits, but not so the civilians who had been approaching the scene. Dozens of burned and blackened bodies littered the street. Those who could were fleeing. Those who couldn’t simply screamed in agony.
“Alpha-One, Mother. Report your status!”
Katja stared in horror at the carnage.
“This is Alpha-One… drop zone clear. Threat neutralized.”
“Roger. I’ll pass your compliments to
Kristiansand
!”
There was a triumphant quality to Thomas’s voice.
Hernandez came up beside her. “What the fuck…?”
“Orbital bombardment,” Katja heard herself say, dimly aware that Hernandez was helping her to her feet. “
Kristiansand
looking out for us.”
“Alpha loaded!”
Katja barely heard Cohen’s scream over the radio. The entire length of the street was strewn with the bloody remains of blasted bodies. The last of the mob were fleeing in the distance, still easy targets if
Kristiansand
wished to follow up her attack.
Katja tore her eyes from the scene.
“Alpha Team, break away.”
Assad and Jackson moved on her order. Hernandez waited for her to follow. They climbed into the strike pod and hung on as Cohen lifted off to rendezvous with
Rapier
.