Too old to die, p.4
Too Old To Die, page 4
That would mask their true intention, hiding where they wanted to go while giving investigators a run for their money as to why Lyra wanted the info. Military people loved to know the reason behind an event. As if it mattered in the long run. The constant argument of who to blame wore on her after a time.
“You have a big problem,” Zed said. “But that’s just the bad news.”
Lyra stood. “You didn’t mention good news. What’s up?”
“Positive note, I have the maps. We’re good there. Yay!”
“Shit,” Barty grumbled, “it doesn’t bode well when you say stupid crap like that. What’s the problem?”
“Security forces are on their way to your location like… right now. You’ve got less than six minutes to get out of the area before they box you in. And before you wonder, it was straight up my fault. I wasn’t paying close enough attention to their comm chatter. So… I’m really sorry.”
You will be. Lyra ripped the key out of the terminal then darted for the door. The second it opened, people outside opened fire. She slid to the wall, pressing her back against it. “And people in the hall. Zed? I swear to God, you are so lucky you’re good at what you do or I’d space your incompetent ass.”
“What’s wrong? Ohh. Yeah. Those guys. Two security forces. They seem twitchy. Could’ve been anyone going for the door.”
The blue beams indicated they’d put their weapons on stun, which meant they didn’t care who tried to leave. Anyone was getting blasted. That way, they could ask questions later. Or apologize to their friends for shooting them unnecessarily. They’d likely found the unconscious guy and freaked out.
Lyra slid into a crouch. The two guards didn’t enter, but the shooting stopped. This is where they offer a deal. Or an ultimatum. Something’s coming. But neither of the men spoke up. Uh. This place is weird. Standard protocol should be to offer me a chance to surrender. I’m trapped, two against one, etc.
“Barty,” Lyra whispered, “I’m about to do something really stupid so… wish me luck.”
“Really?” Barty sighed. “You better not get yourself in a holding cell. I got no desire to be breaking into another jail.”
“It was one time!”
“Two!”
Lyra gripped her pistol. “Anyway, here I go.” She leaned around the corner, blasting the first form she saw. The man took the stun to the gut, just above the abdomen. His friend opened fire, startled by her sudden attack. His attack went wide, though only barely. The flash from the shot came so close to her face, it dazzled her.
She rushed the guy, plowing her shoulder into his chest. He slammed into the wall then brought the butt of his pistol down on her back. As she crumpled, Lyra lifted her weapon, pressing it against his side. He froze. Their eyes met.
He was probably in his late twenties, green eyes, blond hair. Sweat broke on his brow, making his pale skin glisten under the flickering overhead lights. As he lifted his hand, she rolled her shoulder where he hit her. Son of a bitch got a good hit in. I shouldn’t have charged him like that.
“That’s better,” Lyra said. “Drop the gun.” He complied. “What’s going on with this place? Why didn’t you at least challenge me?”
“You’re a dead woman.”
“Cute. Clever. Totally original. I’ve literally never heard that before.” Lyra sighed. “Answer my question. You and I both know I could’ve killed you. If I pulled the trigger, even a stun would’ve broiled your kidney.”
“Stun and question,” he replied, “that’s the work.”
“Uh huh. Wow. Amazing. I’m leaving now, officer. If you wouldn’t mind backing up, I have no desire to kill you. Just… stand against the wall there.”
He frowned, drawing several deep breaths through his nose. Each step he took, his hands trembled a little more. Tears formed in his eyes.
“Jesus Christ, it’s only a stun! We all had to feel it in basic. What’s your problem?”
“Do what you have to do, bitch.”
“Oh, okay. We’re going there.” Lyra blasted him in the chest. He huffed, slamming against the wall before crumpling to the floor. “What an ass. Did you hear that, Barty? This guy had some serious shells on him.”
“Hey, he didn’t take your shit. Can’t blame him for that.”
Zed said, “I’m so glad you guys admire his gumption, but you really are running out of time to escape this place.” He sounded nervous. “Please hurry.”
“Why so upset?” Lyra asked. She headed for the exit point. “You’re the one who failed to tell us about all of this. And you’re also the one safely sitting on the ship. I have no clue why you’re being a candy-ass right now.”
“Because I can’t fly the ship!”
“Ah,” Barty said. “The truth comes out. If he could, he probably wouldn’t have told us about the security at all.”
“Come on!” Zed complained, “we’re partners. I wouldn’t screw you guys!”
“Intentionally,” Lyra corrected, “because you absolutely did mess up. Anyway, I’m almost there. This place is small. And if the rest of the security guards are like the last guy, then we might not be in such a bad place. They’re not exactly the best of the best. I doubt they were even in the military.”
“Warm bodies,” Barty said. “This vehicle has a turret. And it will fit on the ship. So providing we get a move on, we can fend them off, board the vessel, and fly the hell out of here. All that quick.”
Love the optimism, doubt the reality. Lyra reached the exit when an alarm went off in the south. The blaring horn breathed out a wail that had to be audible for miles around. Any security forces sitting on their asses likely had to respond. The energetic ones might even be looking forward to an opportunity to do something.
The door opened. Lyra stepped outside to the sound of turbines in the distance, old style fighters forced to remain near the surface. Many of the militias out in the frontier relied on conventional aircraft, even those that worked closely with the Korla. The vehicles might not have been much against modern ships, but they’d be more than a match for a ground car.
“I’m outside,” Lyra said. “Where the hell are you?”
“Go forward thirty yards, stand still, you’ll see me.”
“There’s a wall back there,” Lyra replied. “You don’t mean to… oh, shit.” Before she barely finished the statement, a section of the wall burst inward. Chunks of metal collapsed, leaving a hole as a six-wheeled personnel carrier barged inward. “How the hell did you steal that?”
The engine roared as he revved it a few times. “I told you I got something good. With turrets.” A massive gun popped out of the top. “You coming? I kinda need you on that thing so we can you know… survive the next half hour. Door’s open on your side. Hoof it, lady. Before I’m old.”
The way you live, I sincerely doubt you’ll get old. Lyra dashed for the vehicle. She hopped inside as a shadow crossed over them. The fighters breezed by, no more than a thousand feet above them. The door closed behind her, nearly taking her hand off. Barty floored it.
The APC lurched forward, bouncing over the debris. Lyra grabbed the overhead bar to maintain her balance. “Can’t exactly take the turret with your terrible driving!”
“Just get in there, for God’s sake! Shit, they’re opening fire!”
Energy blasts from the fighters rained down around them. Each hit brought a boom, shaking the ground enough to be felt even with the vehicle bouncing around. Lyra shuffled to the three rung ladder then climbed into the turret. Lights flickered as the screen came to life. A targeting computer came online.
Then promptly displayed an error message.
“You stole a broken vehicle?” Lyra pulled herself into the seat then strapped in. The handles gave her control, giving her three hundred and sixty degrees of aim. “You know, if I shoot these guys down, there’s a chance they won’t make it.” The fighters came around, taking a wide arc for a second attack run.
Barty said, “Guess who else might not make it? I don’t want to be an asshole, because I don’t like the idea of people dying here. Particularly us, you feel me?”
Yeah, I get it. Lyra led the target manually. The targeting computer continued to let her know it suffered from an error. Thanks for being right in the way while giving me this incredibly useful information. She pulled the trigger. The gun wheezed. Nothing else happened. “Um… Barty? This isn’t shooting!”
“Pull the trigger!”
“You have to be kidding me!” Lyra shouted. She tried three more times. Each brought out an unhealthy wheeze, a strange huff as if the APC tried to take a breath but failed. “What is going on? I thought you said it was armed! That you got a decent vehicle for a change! This does not count!”
“Shut down the safety protocols! Tell the targeting computer—”
“Stop! That is offline. Some kind of error.” The fighters pulled around for another attack run. “Come on, man! I need another idea fast because they’re on the verge of taking us.” Another thought hit her. “Wait a minute, how the hell is this fitting on the ship?”
“Three buttons on the right glowing red! Hit them!”
Lyra found two, not three. She hit them both then a final one that was blank. The screen flickered. The error cleared. She pulled the trigger. A blast erupted from the barrel, flashing off for the horizon. Shit! Sorry about that any people who might be over there. Totally my bad.
The fighters opened fire, strafing the ground behind them. Lyra spun the gun, placing the reticle directly over the incoming fighter. Two of them formed together though they put a few thousand yards between them. They’d both be tearing up the ground in a few seconds. She let loose, holding the trigger down.
The turret let loose six shots in rapid succession. They slammed into the nose of the incoming fighter, knocking it out of the sky in a second. Those old things cannot take any punishment at all. She redirected with just a touch of motion, a small inch to line up the second bogey. Lyra pulled the trigger…
And nothing happened again. Not even the wheeze. Lights shut down around her. The screen went black. The controls wouldn’t move the turret anymore. She half expected the engine to die along with it. A couple good blows to the controls didn’t help either. The defenses were down.
“Barty,” Lyra said, “we’re screwed. Everything’s dead back here.”
The weapons from the fighter went off again. Listening to them scream, slapping the ground like stones from the sky, gave her a chill. Not seeing it killed her inside. She tensed, waiting for the attack that finished them off… the second when the vehicle launched in the air then exploded.
“Zed,” Barty shouted, “drop the ramp. Right now.”
“Wait,” Lyra disentangled herself from the safety harness. She dropped into the APC, hurrying toward the front. The fighter passed by overhead, buzzing them close enough to rattle the panels on the roof. “Are we already there?” The door opened as she arrived at the pilot’s cabin.
Barty motioned with his head. Sweat soaked his buzzed brown hair, tiny blue eyes squinting at her for a moment before he returned his attention forward. He was a massive man, taller than her even seated. “Sit down. Before this gets worse.”
Lyra joined him. “How’d they miss us?”
“Evasive. Subtle amount. Plus, those ships are crap. They don’t have decent targeting. You saw what happened to this one. Everything’s falling apart out here. I’m surprised they still had access to the regional database you wanted. Shit. We’ve got another five fighters incoming. We’re barely going to make this!”
An old style scanner in the middle console showed eight more red dots. They moved slower than the others, coming at their front. The ship loomed ahead, the ramp resting on the ground. From two hundred yards out, Lyra would’ve bet money the APC couldn’t fit. She grabbed the bar above her head.
“Come on, Barty… this isn’t going to work. We should get out.”
“It’ll work.”
Lyra sunk into her seat. “Did you measure it? For God’s sake, there’s no way!”
“Trust me.”
“Seriously?” Lyra turned to him. “You’re insane!”
“Probably, but I’m not wrong.” They bounced over some rocks, barreling toward the ramp while the fighters opened fire again, this time from two directions. “Hey, that’s good news.”
“There’s good news?” Lyra winced as the ground all around them erupted into pebbles and dust, obscuring their vision. A crash in the front jostled them as if they crashed into something. They were on an incline… then leveled out.
“Close the ramp!” Barty shouted. He tore the safety harness off then rushed out of the cabin. Lyra followed, tripping on her way. She landed on her stomach with a huff, crawling a few feet before finding her feet. The door on the side opened again. “Come on! Get your ass out of this thing now!”
“Why?” Lyra complained. “You said to close the ramp! What’s it matter?”
“Yeah, you’ll see in a second. Come on!” Barty waved then grunted. He grabbed her by the scruff of her body armor then dragged her into the ship. “Get to the cockpit and take us up, Lyra. I’ll distract our friends before they shoot us too much.” The ship took a direct hit. “Yeah, like that. Hurry.”
“Goddamn it.” Lyra pressed against the wall, squeezing through the cargo area. I mean, yes. It fit. But that’s more than tight. She broke free, moving through the short hallway, past their tiny infirmary and through the lounge. The cockpit door opened. Zed sat on the left, working on the computer.
Lyra hustled past him as the ship took a volley, a good blast that came down on the top of the vessel as the fighters thrust away. She took the pilot’s seat, engaged the thrusters, then strapped in. As the ship moved, it rumbled. The weight. That damn APC! Barty is out of his mind if he thinks that thing can stay.
“I put the defenses up,” Zed said, “so shields are on.”
“Probably saved our lives,” Lyra replied. She tilted the nose to gain some altitude. “Okay, Barty! We’re moving! What the hell are you planning to do with that thing? There’s no way we can achieve orbit with it aboard!”
“I know,” Barty said, “the charges are set. I’m letting it go. Zed, drop the rear shields on my mark.”
Lyra furrowed her brow. This will not be good. She set one of her screens to show the rear camera. The ramp opened. Barty shouted for the shield to drop. The moment Zed complied, the APC started rolling. It tumbled out of the ship. She felt the sudden drop in weight through the flight stick as a tremor.
The fighters pursuing them veered away, moments before the vehicle exploded. There was no chance the destruction would harm their pursuers, but the detonation proved to be massive. A cloud of black smoke appeared all around the area as debris cascaded down toward the surface.
Sensors flickered by the interference of the power core’s explosion. The fighters pulled away, heading back toward the surface.
“Are you serious?” Lyra shouted. “What was that all about?”
Barty shut the ramp then came to join them. He flopped down in the copilot seat, clapping his hands. “Badass, am I right? The radiation from that blast gave those old pieces of shit fits. They couldn’t target, probably had a hard time scanning at all. Notice they retreated fast enough.”
“Uh huh.” Lyra shook her head. “Did you plan that from the beginning?”
“Hell no. I thought of it when we got the thing onboard and it barely fit.”
“I told you!” Lyra paused as they broke through the atmosphere. “The stupid thing was way too big!”
“That’s what she said.” Barty winked. “Anyway, it all worked out, didn’t it? We got the maps. We escaped. Limited loss of life. I think we should be celebrating! In fact, maybe we can swing over to that one place for a while. See about—”
“Stop.” Lyra held up her hand. The scanner started beeping. Three red dots appeared on the far end of the system. “What’re those, Zed?”
“Incoming military vessels,” Zed replied. “Looks like Korla Security Forces.”
A joint task force unit that policed the various colonies. Lyra had plenty of run-ins with them over the years. She changed course, moving away from them. “Get me to the next system,” she said. “Safe route so we don’t have to deal with them. We’ll figure out where to go from there.”
“We only have four jumps left.” Zed looked over at her. “Before we’re out of fuel.”
“And,” Barty added, “we don’t have any cash to buy more.”
“Thank you,” Lyra replied, “for reminding me. I totally forgot. Get us out of here or we won’t have the chance to go begging.” They calculated a course before engaging the FTL engine. The Korla vessels would take at least an hour to arrive at the planet. Then they’d perform their investigation.
Giving us plenty of time to find our next destination. Good luck, y’all. See you never. And they were off.
Chapter 3
Admiral Thomas Gaston sat down to a long overdue meal. Fleet drills had occupied the majority of his shift, cutting into lunch and any breaks he might’ve enjoyed. Now, in his office, he put down a bowl of soup as the first course with a sandwich waiting. The window to his right gave him a fantastic view of the ships forming up after their efforts.
Everyone did well enough. Thomas had put them through training maneuvers, whipping some of the newer blood into shape. He’d been given a number of new recruits, all requiring serious experience. Fortunately, they seemed to be catching on quickly, with only a few reports of serious problems. Nothing we can’t work out over the next few weeks.
He dug in, letting out a sigh as his stomach complained from the sudden introduction of sustenance. I need to take better care of myself. That had been a familiar thought, one he struggled with just about every day. Soon enough. I won’t have anything to do but worry about my health.
Thomas planned to retire within a year. He had started working with high command to find a replacement, someone to be promoted into his spot. There were several candidates, men and women capable of leading a large battlegroup. Once they settled on a handful, they’d start the interview process.
