Echoes of the fallen, p.32
Echoes of the Fallen, page 32
“Not any time soon,” McCarthy said. “Didn’t you say something about dead heroes? We’ll be lucky to get you more drones in the next hour, and most of those will be on the last dregs of power, with failing inkeris.”
Stathis tried to figure out a way to get more ammunition. A map was being transmitted through the links now, and he could see where they were. At least they were going in the right direction.
The display lit up, showing a red, glowing sphere, and the label Fusion Plant #48 appeared.
“You need to get your SCBIs back online,” McCarthy said, and Stathis felt a pang of regret for not thinking of Shrek at the last minute.
“Only Skögul can do that,” Stathis said. Though maybe SCBIs could teleoperate the medical equipment in Valhöll.
“Major,” McCarthy said, “I’m facing a shite-load of gobshite vanhat. I need you safe so we can concentrate on giving these bastards a bloody nose. One thing at a time, please.”
Stathis wanted to argue, but he had to look at the big picture, the strategic level, not the tactical level.
“Fine,” Stathis said. “You fend them off. We’ll get to Valhöll. We’ll come rescue you if you need it.”
“Wilco, sir,” McCarthy said, sounding relieved. “We’ll get you more drones. You need to get to Valhöll before the inkeris collapse.”
“That’ll be another problem,” Stathis said.
“Listen up,” Stathis said to the nearby legionnaires. “We know where we are, and we have a map. We need to get to Valhöll sooner rather than later.”
He heard Li curse. Chen groaned. They knew what was coming.
Stathis pointed down the tunnel.
“Double-time, march,” Stathis said. They all took off running again, and Stathis felt the attention of something evil focus in on them, preparing to spring a trap.
* * * * *
Chapter 60: Voorga Homeworld
Admiral Diamond Winters, USMC
Winters didn’t know where the custom came from, but she liked it. Sakamoto, as the lead captain, was giving the briefing to all the other captains while she watched. Perhaps it made sense because it gave her a chance to see someone else explain it and review it for clarity and problems. It also made sure that Sakamoto understood it, which she had no doubt about after this long. Sif sat at the end of the table, watching the other captains as much as Admiral Sakamoto.
It was also nice to let others do the briefing. This was all in virtual reality, so all the captains looked like they were actually present. Having them all come to the Musashi just wasn’t practical.
“Intelligence reports the Voorga Imperial fleet, while numerous, is composed of vessels that are much smaller than the Musashi and battleships,” Sakamoto said. “According to Thuthta and our analysis, the sheer size and presence of the Musashi will present them with a serious dilemma. It is our intent to psychologically intimidate the Voorga. Even though we are outnumbered in weapons and tonnage, we are aliens, bigger, and walking into their home with some very big sticks.”
“You don’t think this is a trap?” Captain Kuznetsov asked.
“It could be,” Sakamoto said, “but based on the data Thuthta has shared on technology and specifications, and based on our observations, we have multiple advantages.”
“Over a species that’s ancient and has been around since the vanhat left before,” Kuznetsov said.
“As it may be,” Sakamoto said, “we have not found anything to disprove Thuthta’s statements, nor have we seen any proof otherwise.”
What Winters didn’t say was that the Musashi had managed to gain access to the Voorga data systems, and the data it had scraped was promising.
“Maintain tight formation; this is the time to display discipline. We will allow our ally Thuthta to do most of the talking. We will proceed directly to the planet Naataan, where we will deploy the Legion to secure the objective. We are told it is a pyramid, guarded by what is best described as warrior monks who dedicate their lives to keeping the pyramid safe and allowing Liathon to sleep undisturbed.”
“If they oppose the landing?”
“It is in a polar region,” Sakamoto said, “poorly defended. The pyramid is usually covered in ice and snow. Not a place for Voorga cities, and far from any populated areas. Thuthta said they are ‘traditional,’ which I understand to mean intolerant of change.”
“Can the Legion handle them?” Kuznetsov asked.
“Of course,” Major Volkov said.
“But there’s a catch,” Sakamoto said, and he looked at everyone more closely. “By their code of honor, they will not attack first. They will see that we are bigger, tougher, and meaner, and they will withdraw. However, if we attack? They will have no mercy.”
“That makes no sense, sir,” Kuznetsov said.
“To humans? Perhaps not. To Voorga? They are not nearly as violent as we are. They prefer to conserve resources, to avoid anything that wastes resources, like fighting. However, if forced to fight? They will commit completely. It is considered dishonorable to be the first to start such a waste of resources.”
“They’re going to let us come in and wake Liathon?” Kuznetsov asked.
“Unlikely,” Winters said. “They’ll try to avoid a fight if we don’t attack.”
“Then why stop here?” Kuznetsov said. “If they’re cowards that won’t fight.”
Winters smiled. She’d asked Musashi the same thing.
“Because we’re trespassing in their space,” Winters said. “They’ll view us as raiders or bandits. Strolling in their front door and looking around will catch them by surprise and put them on the defensive. As long as we don’t start shooting, we may have a chance to wake Liathon and leave peacefully.”
“What about the monks?” Kuznetsov asked.
“We aren’t sure, Thuthta isn’t sure,” Winters said. “But if they attack first? The rest of the Voorga may not intervene. However, if we attack first…”
“Difficult,” Kuznetsov said. “Isn’t there another plan?”
“This plan is less likely to cost lives,” Winters said, “on both sides.”
“If Thuthta is to be believed, Admiral-sama,” Sakamoto said.
“He can be believed,” Sif said.
Kuznetsov nodded.
“They are not human,” Sif said. “Alien, with alien motivations and concepts of honor that do not align with humans. This does not make them superior or inferior. They just are. Thuthta believes that Liathon is trapped, or her sleep is enforced somehow.”
“How does he know?” Kuznetsov asked.
Sif tilted her head as she looked at him.
“Because I know,” Sif said. “I have studied the Voorga in great detail.”
“Do you think this will go according to plan?” Kuznetsov asked Sif, but Winters knew it was directed at her.
“Of course not,” Winters said, drawing his attention. Kuznetsov was a big, burly man, and in person, he was intimidating. Even in VR, he was intimidating, but Winters didn’t care.
“Nothing ever goes according to plan,” Winters said. “What’s important is that we enter the Voorga system, enter high orbit, and do it with such discipline and skill that we intimidate the crap out of them. If they’re afraid of us, they’ll be willing to talk, and talking is what we need. People who are talking aren’t shooting.”
“Understood, Admiral,” Kuznetsov said, but Winters wasn’t entirely sure.
“Just be ready for things to go wrong, quickly,” Winters said. “We all have the rally points. This is the heart of their empire. If things go wrong, Thuthta has gotten us halfway at least. We just have to escape.”
“But if we have better ships?” Kuznetsov said.
“They have more ships,” Winters replied. “Their home fleet is about 10 percent of their fleet, if not less. They’ve been arming and preparing for the vanhat, apparently.”
“But their ships are not as war-ready as they think,” Sif said. “Talking about war and engaging in war are two different things. With the threat staring them in their face, they will be caught by surprise, unsure, and green troops are always easy to intimidate. However, if the fighting starts, they won’t be green for long, and the survivors will have learned valuable lessons. If we fight them here, there is no guarantee they will not pursue us all the way to the galactic core.”
“We already have the vanhat and Collective pursuing us,” Winters said. “I’m sure the angels we’re seeking won’t be happy to find us pursued by so many hostiles. I’d rather have the Voorga as allies than enemies, and if Thuthta is correct, waking Liathon will bring the Voorga in on our side. We’ll have a powerful ally, and maybe we can do something about the vanhat and Collective.”
“It is a risk,” Sif said.
“But worth it,” Winters said. They needed allies. The Voorga had to see reason, but they wouldn’t see reason if their people were being killed. Furthermore, they wouldn’t allow Thuthta and his minuscule fleet to go anywhere near the tomb where Liathon was.
Would it be worth it, though, when her people and ships were dying?
“Please continue,” Winters said to Sakamoto.
“Here is the situation,” Sakamoto said, and the hologram came to life, showing Naataan, the Voorga home world. “Tonnage? We are outnumbered ten to one. Numerically? About a hundred to one. However, we know their capabilities. They do not know ours. They do not know we are coming.”
Winters leaned back. She knew everything Sakamoto was going to say. She’d written the mission orders.
There were too many variables, though. Far too many.
She just hoped that the ships of the Seraphim Fleet were big enough. The Voorga respected size. They had an interesting culture.
If the Seraphim Fleet wasn’t big enough to intimidate them?
Life would get difficult.
Too many variables.
* * * * *
Chapter 61: Knife to a Gun Fight
Major Zale Stathis, USMC
Stathis didn’t like that he was on his last magazine. His wire gun was out; he had a full magazine for his sidearm, and that was all.
The fact that it was cyborgs shooting back told Stathis they were in a lot of trouble. Froggers would have been much easier to deal with. They were already using hand-to-hand weapons, and the legionnaires would have the advantage in powered armor.
However, Stathis knew his troops weren’t Gurkhas, and bringing a knife to a gunfight wasn’t the secret to survival. The cyborgs had no fear. Yet at this rate, his legionnaires wouldn’t survive long enough to instill that fear.
Chen and Mikhailov were both injured. Li had run out of ammunition for his SAW, and Fedorov was about to. He was being incredibly stingy with his rounds, totally uncharacteristic of most machine gunners, but he was the primary reason the cyborgs weren’t yet assaulting them down the tunnel.
The wrecked tram giving them cover wouldn’t last long. Another piece of metal slammed into the tram and flew past. If anyone had been sticking their head out from around the tram, they would have lost it.
To the best of his knowledge, the inkeris on the drones had failed, collapsing under the weight of Shorr space, and it was like a razor on his nerves. Things were only getting worse, and while fighting the cyborgs was bad, he kept seeing the nearby shadows shift, and he’d seen Hakala and the others waste at least one round shooting at empty shadows. Like having cyborgs attacking them wasn’t bad enough.
They were still two kilometers from Valhöll. So damned close, and yet too far. The inkeri couldn’t extend this far, and Stathis hadn’t heard from McCarthy in nearly half an hour. The last he’d heard was that the cyborgs had breached one of the hatches and were forcing their way in. Maybe Skögul had fallen?
“This is turning out to be a very bad day,” Stathis said, resting his head against the tram. They’d been here long enough for him to catch his breath, and that was bad.
“Zen,” Hakala said and popped out of cover on the other side to fire. She was a lot better than Stathis and the other legionnaires. She’d spent less time relying on a SCBI, and her HKT training and conditioning were really coming through. She might even have an extra magazine. The biggest problem was that she was exposing herself more than the others.
“Li,” Stathis said. “Watch our rear.”
Yue was out of ammunition and gripping his knife in his fist. Stathis wasn’t sure what was on his mind. Mikhailov and Chen were out of ammunition now. Being wounded meant you surrendered your ammunition to those who weren’t. Kuznetsov might have a half magazine, but he was taking care of the two wounded, trying to stop the bleeding from Chen’s torn-off arm with a tourniquet. The armor’s auto tourniquet had failed. Stathis didn’t know what was keeping Chen alive other than the fact that he was just tough and too stubborn to die.
At least nobody had turned into a slavering, face-eating monster.
Yet.
Li turned his pistol to the rear, aiming at the curve where a target was most likely to appear.
There wasn’t much room, especially with Kuznetsov struggling to save Chen’s life. Mikhailov had taken a hit to the helmet and suffered a concussion. He was barely conscious but not bleeding out, and it didn’t look like he was going to fall over dead in the next minute. Which didn’t mean he wasn’t, it just meant nobody knew how they could help him, and other problems were more pressing.
“These cyborgs are pissing me off,” Stathis said. What would the gunny do? Everyone’s armor was broken; they were almost out of ammunition, and surrender obviously wasn’t an option. They didn’t have any grenades left, just knives and dwindling magazines. The cyborgs weren’t running out of ammunition based on their rate of fire, plus they could break off pieces of metal and throw them around at high velocity. There was far too much metal for them to throw around.
What the hell would the gunny do?
“I could use a coffee right now,” Stathis said as he thought.
Ducking back from a piece of metal slamming into the tram, Hakala looked over at him. Her outer visor was up. He couldn’t see most of her face, but the raised eyebrow told him what she was thinking.
“You falling asleep?” Hakala asked.
“Um, no,” Stathis said. “Just hard to think with the Shorr-space hoodoo turning my brain to paranoid mush. Caffeine might be a bad idea, though; sometimes it puts me to sleep.”
Stathis almost missed the curse she muttered, and then she popped back out to fire a single shot. Stathis didn’t see her target, but he felt confident that there was one less cyborg throwing around pieces of high-velocity metal at the tram.
“I wonder what the gunny would do,” Stathis said.
“Your gunny was a faltvebal,” Hakala said, “not a major.”
“Well, now he’s the emperor,” Stathis said.
“You need to get your mind on the battle,” Hakala said as Li glanced between them.
“It is,” Stathis said.
“Does not sound like it,” Hakala said, popping out and firing another shot. “You are an officer.”
“Yeah,” Stathis said. “You are, too. A good officer has good NCOs and staff NCOs, though; they have lots of experience and shit. I could use that right now.”
“I thought you needed coffee?”
“Yeah. That, too, I need a lot of things. More ammo would be awesome,” Stathis said, peeking out to see if he had a target. Hakala had the cyborgs pinned down around the curve of the tunnel about sixty meters away, and Stathis didn’t have anything to shoot at. There were a few bodies in Stathis’ view, but nothing moving.
“What would your emperor do?” Hakala asked, popping back out, but she didn’t fire.
“He wouldn’t be stupid enough to rush them,” Stathis said. “Might be a glorious end, but we aren’t here to die. We’re here to make them die.”
“Smart,” Hakala said.
“He would work to maintain the initiative,” Stathis said. “Keep the pressure on the enemy.”
“How do you plan to do that?”
“Not dying is a good start,” Stathis said. “Dying would let the enemy do what they want, and the cyborgs will probably want to eat my face. I like my face. I like your face, too.”
Something heavy slammed into the tram, making the entire structure shudder. It wasn’t like Lochoki and her survivors could slap on armor and come help.
Hakala fired a harassing shot to let them know she was still there.
“We will talk about your face later,” Hakala said. “First, we need to get rid of this paska lounas. Time is not on our side.”
“True,” Stathis said, “but when we don’t have any options, we can always just bulldog it.”
“Bulldog it?”
“Latch on and don’t let go,” Stathis said, trying to take inventory of what they had. They weren’t going far, with two wounded, and he wasn’t going to leave them behind. In the tunnel, there would be no flanking maneuvers. He couldn’t see any maintenance hatches, and it would only be a matter of time before they got around them somehow. The fighting might also attract froggers or something else.
Stathis wasn’t keen on dying here, but he wasn’t going to leave the wounded, and he wasn’t seeing any options. Now more than ever, he missed Shrek.
How could he lure the froggers into the battle against the cyborgs while his people exited, stage left? That’s what the gunny would do. Get someone else to do the hard work. Right? But the gunny was never afraid of hard work. He was the gunny, but he fought smart.
“What do Marines do when the battle is going against them?” Hakala asked. Like she didn’t know.
“Kick ass and take names,” Stathis said automatically, but his mind was elsewhere. Why would she ask that? To get him to think. That’s what Shrek would do. A challenge.
Quick inventory. Running out of ammunition, unable to retreat, unable to attack. Or could he attack? Bayonet charges were a last resort, and he just couldn’t see the cyborgs panicking. Besides, their weapons couldn’t mount bayonets, and why would the cyborgs be intimidated by a maniac running at them with a knife?
