Song of Redemption Read online

  “I’m trying to accomplish the mission.”

  Rev raised Pashu, and all five Frisians brought their weapons to bear, which made Tomiko and the rest do the same. “If there’s a Centaur up there, I think I can disable it with this.”

  “And what the hell is that Genesian monstrosity?”

  “I lost an arm on Alafia. It was replaced with this. And our R&D-types think that here in a vacuum, it can fry a Centaur’s circuits if I get close enough. Do you have anything that can do that?”

  Only twenty-five percent chance, but still . . .

  He lowered Pashu, and one by one, both the Frisians and the Marines lowered their weapons, too.

  “So, what are you exactly proposing?”

  “We fought Centaurs together before. We do it again.”

  “And whatever we find? What then.”

  “Equal access.”

  “You’re a sergeant. I’m a yellow-master. Hardly high on the decision-making food chain. And we just take it upon ourselves?”

  “Why not? We’re adjusting on the fly due to changing circumstances. And we’re still allies, after all.”

  The yellow-master turned to one of the others, and once again, Rev wished he could listen in on their conversation.

  “The lieutenant wants to know if you think this is a valid course of action,” the staff sergeant passed.

  “I don’t know, to be honest. I think it would be a mess if we started fighting, but then you’d have a clear shot to the target.”

  There was a pause as Delacrie relayed the message, and Rev waited, half-expecting to receive orders to attack the Frisians.

  Instead, it was, “The lieutenant says to do what you think is best, but she wants you to broadcast your feed. She’s heading back to the surface to see what she can do with the incoming ships and says whatever you do, you’d better do it quick. You don’t have much time.”

  “I assume you know that we’ve got company coming, both yours and mine. We can decide to go at it right here and see who’s left standing, we can just sit and wait until matters are taken out of our hands and maybe have a fight break out there, or we can complete our missions. It’s up to you.”

  “You’re putting a lot on your shoulders, Rev,” Tomiko said, breaking her silence.

  “What would you have me do, Miko? You want to fight them?”

  “I’m not arguing. I just hope that if they agree, the pot at the end of the rainbow is really there and not a mirage. You’re going to need something good to protect you.”

  “What, you want to record a formal protest to cover your ass?” Rev asked, surprised at her tone.

  “You know me better than that. I’m just saying. But no matter what we do, I’ve got you covered.”

  The yellow-master cut in. “It’s never a good idea to sit and wait for others to take over. We’re in. But, uh, we’ve got five more coming up to join us.”

  Rev laughed and said, “And we’ve got another element. Sergeant Nix, why don’t you come on up?”

  It took a few minutes of discussion, but Nix and Delacrie were to stay back with the five Frisians while Rev, Second Element, and the initial five Frisians were to advance. If something happened to them, it would be up to Delacrie and the stay-behind Frisians to decide what to do.

  “You ready, Yellow-master Vstaleekru?” Rev asked.

  The commando gave him a thumbs-up, then stepped up beside Rev. It looked like they were both going to lead the way.

  Rev started down the tunnel, Pashu raised and deployed. The Frisian yellow-master gave it a few sidelong glances before he managed the discipline to focus ahead. Armed with a UL-56, he’d be a deadly foe to a human, but it wouldn’t do much against any of the commonly encountered Centaurs. And with the tunnel continuing its zig-zagging, the Frisian’s KK-40, the same missile the Union had copied with its older Mantis, was probably useless as well.

  “What’s the arming range on that thing?” Rev asked.

  “Twenty-nine meters, so yeah, not much good in here if we hit anything big.”

  From the size of the tunnel, however, there was no way a paladin could have gotten through. Maybe a riever could be ahead of them, so there was no telling what they might be facing. The AI mini-centaurs he’d faced on Tenerife might be a more likely foe, and Rev didn’t know how effective they were.

  “What about that thing you’re lugging around,” he asked, acting like he was only casually interested.

  Rev knew Pashu’s capabilities were classified, but he’d already blown past that restriction.

  “The missiles are forty, but the beam cannon has no arming range, of course.”

  “And you think you can do something with that against a Centaur?”

  “I’ve killed with it,” Rev said, and left it at that.

  After too many zig-zags, they reached the end. A solid door blocked their way. Their objective was on the other side of it.

  “So, what do we do now?” the yellow-master asked. “Draw straws?”

  “I’m going in first.”

  “So, you can claim priority, jarhead? I don’t think so.”

  “Unless a target is on the far side of the space, you already said you can’t engage.”

  “If it’s a paladin, no. But this passage is a little small for one of them, right? So, for their baby-cents, we’ve got something that will do.”

  So, they know about the mini-Centaurs. Not surprising.

  “And for their self-destruct? You got something for that?” Rev asked.

  “That’s a chance we’ll have to take.”

  “And I’m thinking that might have been what took out your other flight and our SEALs.”

  The Frisian soldier seemed to think about that for a moment, then asked, “And you really think that thing will stop the same thing from happening?”

  Rev patted Pashu with his right hand. “Sure do.”

  I wish I really were that confident. And that’s only if there’s no atmosphere on the other side of this door.

  “In that case, you’ve got the lead, but I’ll be standing right beside you.”

  “Accepted.”

  He turned around. Tomiko was “above” him, looking down, and Radić was toward his left side. With that disorientation, he was glad Punch had him take his meds. “We need Hus-man and the breaching charge.”

  “You heard him,” Staff Sergeant Delacrie, just emerging from around the last corner, said. “Hussein, up!”

  Twenty seconds later, Hussein came around the staff sergeant and made his way forward, giving the Frisians a wide berth.

  “Blow that thing,” Rev told him.

  As Hussein pulled the breaching charge from his kit, the yellow-master reached out, touched his arm, and said, “You’re not going to use that, are you?”

  Rev didn’t understand the Frisian’s question. He didn’t think the Centaurs forgot to lock the door and they could just waltz right in.

  “I think we need to blow it.”

  “No shit. But with that ancient tech? Stippy-do, sometimes I wonder about you Union folk and how you can really be a threat . . . I mean, not now, of course. We’re still allies, but you know.”

  “And what would you suggest?” Rev tried to keep the snark out of his voice. He didn’t see the Frisians with an IBHU, after all.

  The Frisian turned, and a moment later, one of the soldiers just a couple meters behind them flew forward to the door, then came to a graceful stop. The soles of his boots touched the wall and stuck fast, giving him some stability.

  He pulled out a small, handheld scanner and ran it across the edges of the door and frame. Whatever he read seemed to satisfy him, and he took out another scanner that looked to be the twin of the first. He turned to look at the yellow-master, who raised one hand for him to proceed.

  “What did he say?” Rev asked.

  “First, he checked for booby traps, then took a reading on the door. Twenty-three centimeters thick, no atmosphere on the other side, so when we open it, we won’t have to deal with that.”

  Rev gave a mental sigh of relief, but not because of any outward rush of air. A vacuum was needed to increase the range of his beam cannon. Intel had been right when they said their objective was probably not pressurized, not that that made much sense to him. The Centaurs needed more O2 than humans, if the xenobiologists were right, so why would they be doing whatever they were doing in a vacuum?

  Then again, why do they do anything they do?

  The soldier at the door took out what looked to be a large tube of toothpaste and started applying an off-white gunk around the edges of the door.

  “So, you know what that is?”

 

  Rev frowned. The gunk couldn’t even be a centimeter thick. How much energy could it release?

  Once the soldier applied the first line around the door, he applied a second just inside of the first. And after that, he did it one more time, so there were three parallel rectangles of white gunk along the edges of the door.

  “All hands, remain on the universal freq for the duration,” the yellow-master passed, which Staff Sergeant Delacrie immediately repeated. Which was probably a good idea if they were about to get into a fight.

  “I’ve got a solid circuit. I’m ready to blow this,” the Frisian at the door said.

  “You ready, Sergeant?”

  “Do we have to move back?” Rev asked, warily eyeing the door ten meters ahead of them.

  The yellow-master laughed and then said, “I told you, we don’t rely on ancient tech. I think we should move up.”

  He took three steps forward, his posture making it evident that this was a challenge. Rev didn’t know if it was smart to be that close to the door, but he stepped up alongside the yellow-master.

  “Do it, Beemoral,” the Frisian said.

  “Get ready,” Staff Sergeant Delacrie passed.

  The Frisian reached out with a small wand and touched the corner of the outer gunk line. There wasn’t much of a visible reaction, just a light mist that worked its way along all three lines and gathered in the zero G, keeping close to the surface.

  “Stand by,” the yellow-master said, nudging Rev and stepping a meter to the side, his UK raised.

  “Find me targets.”

 

  Having an extra set of eyes, even if it was Punch noting things in his peripheral vision when he was focusing on something else, was something he and his battle buddy had been playing around with in training, and it seemed to work.

  The misting seemed to slow down, then with a small flash, the entire door fell inward.

  The mini-Centaur was five meters inside the door, just to the right. That split second it took for Rev to adjust his aim was enough for the Centaur to fire, the beam itself invisible. Rev fired, his beam hitting and arcing over the thing’s body. There was muffled, almost half-assed explosion, but Punch had already highlighted two more mini-AIs.

  Rev was already moving, darting inside and to the right. He went low, taking cover behind a metallic bench, firing as he went, hitting one of them as two missiles shot through the door, hitting the third mini-Centaur, which then detonated far more spectacularly. Shrapnel zinged through the space, and without the bench, Rev would have been shredded. As it was, his suit was punctured at the thigh, but between the suit’s armor and Rev’s spiderweb, the shrapnel didn’t penetrate past his epidermis. His suit integrity alarm went off as the smart fabric quickly reknitted.

  “Did you see anything else?” Rev asked, trying to remember what he’d seen in that second or two.

 

  Rev turned to look back out the door to tell the yellow-master to come inside, but the Frisian had been cut down, most of his body above the waist gone. A fine pink mist floated around the body, which slowly cartwheeled in retreat. Another of the Frisians was flying forward, their passage disturbing the pattern of the blood.

  Respect to the fallen.

  He turned his attention back to the front, looking for any Centaur sign. The area around the mini-Centaur hit by the Frisian missile was littered with mangled equipment and machinery, but the damage was much less than what a paladin self-destructing would be expected to do. Rev couldn’t tell if the thing self-destructed at all or if the damage had been caused by the missiles. In the weightlessness, bits and pieces of mini-Centaur and equipment floated around the space, only changing direction when they collided with something.

  “Three tin-asses down. I’m on the right, ten meters in. No sign of any more, but the space is not secure. I repeat, not secure.” Rev passed.

  “Coming in left.” Tomiko passed. She came shooting through the blasted door at the same time as one of the Frisians, both almost colliding. Within twenty seconds, the rest of the Marines and Frisians were inside, taking whatever cover they could.

  “We need to clear this space,” Staff Sergeant Delacrie passed over the net as he took over.

  The question was how to partition up the area. This wasn’t a planetary warehouse with rows of vertical crates. Everything was haphazard without a firm orientation. The staff sergeant moved to the center, and using his arms, encompassed about a third of the space.

  “Frisians, if you can take this, and Raiders, we’ve got the rest,” he passed, switching his arms around.

  Primitive, but it worked.

  “Understand,” one of the Frisians passed. “We’ve got it.”

  But for the Raiders, there were better control features he could send to their helmet displays. The staff sergeant threw up boundaries on their section.

  “Second Element, cover First. We’ll start right here,” he passed, one section suddenly highlighted. The lieutenant and Second Team are on their way in.”

  Raiders and Frisians moved forward to start clearing. Rev watched for movement, but except for humans and the pieces of mini-Centaurs, it was still.

  “Good job, Rev,” Miko passed on the P2P.

  “Glad it was only mini-Centaurs.”

  “Think there are any more in here, waiting to jump out?”

  Rev scanned to the back, where there was what sure looked like an airlock. He didn’t understand what made the Centaurs tick, but something told him they didn’t like weightlessness and vacuums.

  “No, I don’t. I think the three mini-tin-asses were it.”

  “And you base that on what?”

  “Just a hunch. But we’ll find out soon enough.”

  Second Team and the lieutenant entered the space and shifted to the right to join Nix and his element. All of them were alert for more Centaurs or booby traps, but the place was clean. Fifteen minutes after the brief firefight, Lieutenant Harisa sent Hussein back to declare the objective secure.

  Just short of five hours later, Top Thapa and First Team came through the blasted door, followed by a small team of four civilians. Lieutenant Harisa met them, and Rev watched from what looked like a small workbench of some kind he’d claimed as his anchor, something to ground him in the weightlessness.

  His skin itched, and he wanted nothing more than to take a shower. Real water would be great, but at this point, an underpowered sonic shower would work. He didn’t understand why it had taken this long to get someone there.

  The top, the lieutenant, and one of the civilians were in deep conversation. More than once, the civilian pointed to where the Frisians were gathered. Rev could see the tension in their bodies. They weren’t obviously presenting their weapons, but Rev knew that could change in an instant.

  After five minutes, the lieutenant and the civilians jetted away from the entrance and deeper into the space. The Frisians just watched.

  “Pelletier, where are . . . oh, there, you are” Top passed. He flew across to Rev, his body canted in relationship to him.

  Rev twisted his body around until they were face to face and aligned.

  “You outdid yourself this time,” Top told him.

  Which could be good or bad.

  “Lots of people are pretty pissed at you now.”

  Bad, then.

  “This was supposed to be a Union haul until you decided to start making galaxy-shifting decisions.”

  “I did what I thought I had to,” Rev said defensively.

  “Granted. And from the look of things, it’ll pay off, for humanity at least. The other side of this hunk of metal looks to be a write-off.”

  “The SEALs?” Rev asked.

  “Complete loss. We won’t know for sure until it’s all analyzed, but that’s where the Centaurs were located. From what we can tell, they blew themselves up.”

  “Then what’s this place?”

  “Fuck if I know,” Top said, holding onto Rev’s bench so he could twist to look. Their infrared lanterns were not that powerful, so the farther recesses were not clear. “Warehouses? Work that they didn’t want in the pressurized areas? I’m sure we’ll figure it out.”

  Rev was a little disappointed that all of this might just be the Centaur equivalent of a supply shed. The Marines and the Frisians had almost come to blows over the space.

  “What about the Fries?” Rev asked.

  “What about them?”

  “I mean, I promised them they’d have access.”

  “Yeah, you sure did, didn’t you? Pretty ballsy. Like I said, shifting the course of the whole freaking galaxy.”

  “So, what happens now?”

  “Now, we’re officially waiting until their command ship gets here and their main body can enter with ours.”

  “Their command ship? I don’t understand.”

  Top laughed, then said, “Yeah, I didn’t understand at first. After the lieutenant sent Hus-man to the entrance to upload your . . . negotiations . . . well, that now fell under some paragraph of the Torinth Accords.”

  “I still don’t understand.”

  “I asked my battle buddy, and even now, I don’t get it all. But basically, in a combat situation, agreements made between commanders to cease hostilities are essentially treaties. It goes back to the Willis War, when a ground commander negotiated a cease-fire, promising the defenders free passage, with weapons, off a planet. When the higher command arrived, they ignored the deal and took all of the defenders as prisoners. Something like that. You can ask your battle buddy for the details.