Chaos Quarter: Imperial Ambitions Read online

  “You guys hear that?” he asked.

  There was a long pause followed by Rex’s voice.

  “Yeah, we got it.”

  Jake turned back to the prisoner. Cindy was balling her fists, fighting to control her rage. Jake couldn’t imagine what she was feeling. Here, light-years from the empire, where she thought she was safe…and now this? He knew the pain of exile himself, but his people had been glad to see him go. They weren’t actively trying to hunt him down.

  “When?” Cindy whispered, grabbing Calidus’s head. She wrenched it up until his intoxicated eyes met hers. “When? When are they coming?”

  Calidus just stared at her and laughed. Jake glared over at Vermella.

  “What is this? Why is he laughing?” Jake asked.

  “I…I don’t know. He’s entranced,” said Vermella, shaking her head. “Cal! Why are you laughing? Tell Cindy why you’re laughing at her.”

  “Dead…” he whispered, his head slumping out of Vermella’s hands. “Already dead…”

  His eyes closed, his breath relaxing into sleep.

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Cindy said.

  “I don’t—” Jake began.

  “An electromagnetic pulse has been detected in the atmosphere,” the computer announced.

  “Jake, Cindy!” Rex’s voice boomed over the intercom. “Get to the bridge now!”

  ***

  “What the hell was that?” shouted Rick. “What do you mean ‘EMP’?”

  “It means somebody used a pulse generator in the upper atmosphere,” said Rex, swiping through reams of data that floated before him.

  “Several more have been detected,” the computer announced.

  “So Vasa wasn’t lying,” Keith muttered grimly. “And the planet’s electronics are fried.”

  “Seriously?” asked Rex. “They’re not shielded?”

  “They don’t have the tech for it,” Keith said. “Your ship is probably the only functional electronic device in this town now.”

  “Which means the only way we can spread the news is to go out and shout it,” Helen put in from her seat in the comm station. As she finished Jake and Cindy burst into the room, the woman breathless.

  “I think we’re in trouble,” Jake said.

  “Got that right,” Rex confirmed. “That convoy Lucius found was no convoy.”

  “It was Forlorn Hope Brigades in small transports,” Keith surmised. “Drop-pods, troop transports.”

  “Fighters?” asked Rex.

  “Not many,” said Keith with a shake of his head. “Fighters are flown by nobles, and the risks the brigades take is huge. The empire doesn’t want to lose nobles if they don’t have to.”

  “Break for our side,” Rex remarked, and then lifted his head upward, a gesture the ship’s computer had seen him do a hundred times. “Get Lucius in here, now!”

  Helen nearly leaped out of her seat, prevented only by her swollen stomach. The other freed serfs eyed Rex warily.

  “He understands Europan tactics better than anyone here!” Rex snapped. “Besides, somebody will have to stay here and work the ship’s turrets. And I’m not trusting him to go out and run around with your people. Likely he’d end up getting ‘accidentally’ shot in the back.”

  Silence descended, the wary looks turning into confusion.

  “Wait, you’re not leaving?” asked Rick.

  “Oh we’re leaving,” said Rex. “But not until we’ve crammed every single person we can into the cargo bay.”

  Another long moment of silence passed. The council looked at each other as if they didn’t believe it.

  “You’re serious?” asked Ken.

  “You don’t have to do this,” Cindy added.

  “I disagree,” said Rex firmly, leaving no room for argument. “Lucius will stay here, work the big guns, and keep the ship safe and clear so people can get onboard. We can build a barricade across the cargo bay ramp and leave some small passages for your people to get through into the bay. Put some people with guns on it, maybe a few more on top to snipe…add in the thirty-millimeter turrets, and you got yourself a well-defended base of operations.”

  Cindy looked to Keith for assurance. The man was nodding.

  “It’s not a bad plan,” said Keith.

  “Except we have no way of getting word to the people living in the valley,” Rick said. “It could take an hour or more to do it on foot.”

  “And they’ll be putting down drop-pods everywhere,” Keith said. “Small teams, not enough to threaten the ship, but more than enough to intercept civilians on the run. We’d have to send an armed team to try and fight them off, buy the people time.”

  “Take Jake then,” said Rex.

  “Take who now?” said Jake.

  “You can outrun anybody here, get to more people faster,” said Rex.

  “Uh, yes…well—”

  “Go with them,” said Rex.

  “I’ll send a squad back this way to help you,” Keith said to Jake and then turned back to Rex. “The siren at the jail is mechanical; it should still work; summon the militia to the main street—”

  Lucius walked into the bridge, glancing from person to person, meeting stares of concern and disapproval.

  “—but we’ll be spread thin the minute they land. Forlorn Hope operates on a strategy of chaos. They’ll surround the town and attack from all sides,” Keith continued.

  “What if we can force them to land north of the village, between Valley Town and the sea?” said Lucius, moving to his station.

  “You plan on asking them nicely?” spat Rick.

  “No. I plan on them thinking this ship is every bit the junker she appears to be,” Lucius answered.

  Rex smiled wanly, saying,” What are you getting at, Lu?

  “I use the ship’s weapons to force them to land north of the city; you guys make a simple defensive line across the valley. Make them fight your fight. Slow, grueling, from building to building. Forlorn Hope Brigades are all light infantry—no armor or artillery, little to no air support. You force them to go up against a prepared defensive position, and they’re nothing more than Persians dashing themselves on Spartan spears.”

  “The Spartans lost, Lu,” Rex pointed out. “And died to the last man.”

  “Lucky for us we’re not Spartans then,” Keith interjected. “His plan is solid, if he actually can get them to land north of the village.”

  “You’re going to count on his promise?” asked Helen.

  “Don’t have much time to figure an alternative,” said Rex, pointing to a holographic sphere, showing the ship’s radar. Dozens of craft were closing on the planet, virtually unopposed. A half-dozen ships rose from the planet to intercept, but their signals quickly winked out. Keith stared at the image for a long moment, and then looked uneasily at Lucius.

  “We make a line. I’ll command it from the front. Rick leads the team down the valley. Cindy builds the barricade and holds the cargo bay, gives the refugees a familiar face on the ship. Ken, you’re one of the best shots we have. You go up top and take out anyone Baliol misses. I’ll send some more your way,” Keith said and then paused at Rex. “I suppose you have some idea of where you should be?”

  “Up front with you,” Rex said. “In my SI-five.”

  Keith’s eyes went wide. “You have powered armor?”

  Rex smiled deliciously. “I have powered armor.”

  “Then you are up front with me,” Keith said.

  “And who’s going to coordinate all this?” Cindy asked. “If Baliol is working the guns and you’re up front, who exactly is going to be making the calls?”

  Keith paused for a moment and then glanced over to his wife. The look was not lost on anybody. Soon all were gazing at Helen.

  “No,” said Rex. “No way am I locking her in here with Lucius.”

  “It makes the most sense,” Cindy said.

  “I’m no use on the battlefield in this condition,” said Helen, motioning to her sw
ollen stomach.

  “Absolutely not. Either you will kill him, or he’ll kill you in self-defense,” Rex replied.

  “Not if her people’s lives depend on it,” said Lucius. All eyes shifted to him, surprise evident. “Can’t say I know all that much about who Helen has become, but I think it’s fair to say she’d value the lives of hundreds of people, of her friends and family, over revenge.”

  It was quiet for a long moment. Helen stared directly at Lucius, venom in her eyes.

  “The traitor is correct,” she said slowly. “If I have to put up with him for a few hours to save my people, I’ll find a way to manage.”

  “Or you’ll give in to your dark impulses and kill him when he’s engaged with the enemy,” said Rex.

  Now the stare down became a three-way contest. Helen was the one to break it. She reached down to her belt, and unclipped her pistol. She handed it to her husband.

  “Satisfied? I think in a fight, Baliol can take an unarmed, pregnant woman,” she sneered.

  “The ankle gun,” said Rex.

  Helen’s eyes went wide; she scowled and then motioned to Keith. He spared her the effort of bending down in her condition, removing the small pistol from its place under her pants on the right leg.

  “You sure you’re okay with this?” Rex said to Lucius.

  “I’ll make do,” Lucius said.

  “Are we agreed then?” Rex said to the room as a whole.

  “We are,” Keith said simply. He nodded at his compatriots, and they departed. Rex got to his feet, following them out. He paused at the doorway, looking back at Helen and Lucius. He shot Helen a death glare just to make sure she knew that if she did take revenge, it would not come without a cost. Finally he stepped out and into the hallway.

  “Computer, lock the bridge. Nobody gets in who isn’t me,” he ordered and headed for his quarters.

  ***

  It was hard for Jake to sneak up on anyone, given his size. As Rex stripped down to his shorts, he heard the heavy footfalls of his friend. Jake stood in the doorway between Rex’s cabin and the spare room that held his powered armor.

  “Shouldn’t you be in the armory?” Rex said, down to nothing but his shorts.

  “Ah, well…you see…” Jake stumbled.

  “Something wrong?” said Rex, opening a small safe next to the powered armor. The safe revealed a small key, which Rex inserted into the side of the suit. The powered armor came to life, its limbs and body cavity opening automatically. The helmet also retracted back, ready to receive him.

  “Umm…yeah, sort of. I…I don’t know quite how to say this…” Jake started.

  “I find just saying it usually works best in such situations,” Rex said, turning and backing into the armor suit.

  “Well, okay. I…umm…I’m kind of terrified,” Jake said.

  The body and limbs of the suit snapped shut around Rex. The interior was lined with a soft, smart cloth that adjusted to his dimensions. It closed around him everywhere but his head and neck—a firm but strangely velvety fit.

  “It’s just that I’ve never done something like this before,” Jake continued.

  “I’ve seen you in fights, Jake. Heck, you just saved Second back on Atrebar,” Rex pointed out.

  “Yeah, but not a fight where, well, where somebody could actually kill me. I mean these Europans, even if they’re infantry, that’s a few hundred guys running around with battle rifles, all shooting at me. And I’m more bullet resistant than bulletproof. Plus some of them will probably have rockets or those shoulder-mounted, antiarmor rail-guns. Just one shot from those would destroy me.”

  “Just one of those would destroy me too,” said Rex, stepping forward from the bay into the center of the room. “As well as all those freedmen and freedwomen out there who don’t have powered armor to protect them.”

  “I know, I know that. But Rex, I’m not a soldier. I…I don’t have any training for this. You do. Lucius does. Even those militia have some. But me? I’m not a soldier, Rex,” said Jake, actually hyperventilating. Rex hadn’t realized he could do that.

  Rex flexed the arm of his suit, making sure it responded correctly.

  “Once upon a time, I wasn’t a fighter either. I was fleet, if you remember,” Rex said, flexing his fingers. He started for the door. Jake moved aside to let him pass and then, followed. “They gave us eight weeks of combat training at boot camp and then four week refreshers every five years.”

  “That’s more than I ever had,” Jake said as they moved down the port corridor to the stairs overlooking the cargo bay.

  “Yet for all that I never got into a gunfight until last year,” Rex said. “Two weeks into the Quarter, I found myself being shot at, so I shot back—felt terrified the whole fucking time.”

  “Don’t give me one of those ‘bravery is facing your fears despite being scared’ speeches,” said Jake, anxious.

  “Well, that’s what it is,” Rex said as they descended to the cargo bay. Cindy was there, looking at the crates that had to be moved toward the open cargo bay doors. “I don’t have any magic words that will make this better. After my first gunfight, I spent most of the night throwing up. And it didn’t feel any better the next time it happened. It’s not supposed to feel easy. It’s supposed to terrify you, because it’s pretty damned terrifying to have somebody shoot at you.”

  They entered the central lower corridor and started down it, toward the armory.

  “Well, you know we don’t have to do this,” Jake ventured. “I mean, we could just—”

  Rex shot him a glare. Jake swallowed back his words and stared down at his feet.

  “Look, the best I can do is to tell you to keep your focus, all of your focus, on the mission. Make that the one thought that you repeat endlessly, and think constantly about the best way to do it. Make the mission a mantra that repeats endlessly so that when you find yourself terrified, you always have those words droning on in your head, reminding you of what has to be done,” Rex explained.

  They approached the armor door.

  “Europan vessels have reached geosynchronous orbit. Local fighters are engaging,” the ship announced. Rex frowned and pulled open the armory door.

  “And that works? The mantra stuff?” asked Jake.

  “It worked for me. And that’s what the army and marines have drilled into their heads when they’re being trained,” said Rex. “I don’t see why it wouldn’t work for you.”

  Jake frowned but made no response. He followed Rex into the armory. Racks of weapons awaited them. Most were of the normal sort, pistols, rifles, and grenades, designed for any old man or woman. But on the starboard bulkhead, six oversized guns awaited. Four had no triggers. These were weapons built to be used in conjunction with the SI-5 powered armor suit. Each had mounting rails that fit into slots on the upper forearm of the battle suit. Once attached to Rex’s armor, they would be fired simply by curling his index fingers. The other two were similar but had comically oversized triggers. These had been modified specially for Jake, since Cyberdanian bodies didn’t comply perfectly with Commonwealth military standardization.

  But before Rex went to these, he first went to a large, metal box in the corner. Jointed, metal straps ran from it, and slots had been cut in the sides. From one slot came a cloth belt of fifty-caliber slugs and from the other, a belt of twenty-millimeter grenades. Rex hefted it up and approached Jake.

  “It seems too simple,” Jake said. “I have every combat technique known to man in my data-store; you’d think one of them would make me feel a little calmer.”

  “Yeah, well, just because it’s simple advice doesn’t mean it’s wrong,” Rex said. “And you won’t exactly have time to sit and scan through all your ‘combat techniques’ when things get hairy.”

  “No, of course not,” said Jake grimly as he hoisted on the backpack. Jake went and picked up the two custom-made guns, putting the fifty cal on his right hand and the grenade launcher on the left. Rex fed the belts through the slots of t
he backpacks, feeding them into the guns. He lashed the back of the guns to Jake’s arm with wire, so they wouldn’t be unbalanced or come off during the fight.

  “There. Fourteen hundred bullets, one hundred grenades,” Rex said.

  Jake forced two heavy breaths through his lungs.

  “I’m still terrified,” Jake said.

  “Good. Fear keeps people alive in situations like this,” Rex said, slapping him on the shoulder with the metal hand of his suit. “But these people…if the Europans capture them, it’ll be death or something worse. I can’t sit back and watch them be returned to slavery, especially after they’ve tasted freedom. I can’t allow it Jake.”

  “You Terrans…” Jake said halfheartedly.

  “Us Terrans,” Rex said. “Free people have to stand by each other. That’s how it works.”

  “Yeah, that’s how it works,” Jake said, still sounding unconvinced.

  “Remember, focus on the mission. Get people out, protect them, and get back. That’s all you have to think about.”

  Jake swallowed nervously and then nodded his massive head.

  “Right,” he said. He didn’t make eye contact with Rex, just turned and stomped away. Rex watched him go, and sighed.

  “And if you’re actually up there God, please make sure he gets back,” Rex whispered.

  “Europan vessels are at low planetary orbit,” the computer announced.

  With that he lowered the helmet of the suit, picked out his weapons, and then went to help Cindy with the crates. As he approached her, he retracted the weapons on his arms, pulling them back along the rails so that they didn’t jut out past his hands.

  “Could use some help,” Cindy said as he drew near.

  “No problem,” said Rex. He grasped the first crate, far too heavy for a single person to move and jerked it across the cargo bay. It groaned as wood slid against metal, but it moved. He placed it on the portside of the bay, leaving a six-foot gap between the crate and the bulkhead so refugees could get in. As he went back for the second, a troop of militia sprinted in, fifteen in all, each with battle rifles and body armor. They didn’t stop to talk, just ran to the nearest crate, where Cindy awaited. Altogether they began pushing, slowly moving the crate next to the first.