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Authors: Jean Johnson

Theirs Not To Reason Why: A Soldier's Duty (40 page)

BOOK: Theirs Not To Reason Why: A Soldier's Duty
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Stowing her rifle behind her back, Ia stepped away from the whimpering Gatsugi. She eyed the chair at the captain’s workstation, then sighed and crouched, pulling her weapon forward again. A bit of lasering broke the furniture free from the floor, allowing her to toss it aside. Bits of the dead dropped from her armor with the move. Mouth tightly clamped shut, she inhaled the self-contained, relatively clean air of her suit in slow, deep breaths, grimly mastering the urge to be sick.
Once it was out of the way, she had room to step under the overhead screens and crouch down. Locking her armor into a balanced crouch with another blink-code, she unhooked the sucker hand from her shoulder slot and studied the console with its splayed buttons and controls. The combination of having to look up to see the alien characters and symbols displayed on the screens just above her forehead and needing to look down to see where to put the sucker-lined device was going to be a literal pain in her neck.
As much as she wanted to cheat and just go straight to the ship functions she needed to access, she knew she had to make a show of hunting for and suckering up each command. Quick checks of the timestreams allowed her enough knowledge to position the hand over the correct controls on the console, bringing up the current operations controlled by the bridge.
Ia took her time puzzling through the alien script, double-checking the timestreams not just for the language, but for the next four hours, making sure everything was on track. Only then did she unlock the door. By that point, she also had the commands for the ship’s internal comm system figured out.
Activating the comm, she broadcast to the whole ship.
“Attention, Salik and Choya. Your captain is dead, his top crew have been captured, and the bridge is under Terran control. You are accused of interstellar piracy, and in violation of Alliance Blockade Sanction against the Salik government, all of its citizens, and any other persons assisting them in breaking those sanctions. Blockade law is strict, but fair. Surrender and live; continue to fight, and die.”
“Human/Terran/Female . . . My ship/vessel/crew?”
Ia looked down from the overhead screen. The Gatsugi captain had recovered somewhat. His skin was still more a mottled grey than any other hue, his dark, round eyes wide with shock, but Harkins had used the emergency first aid kit all mechsuits carried on the alien, binding his wounds against further blood loss. He gestured with one of his two unbitten arms, gesturing her closer, a faint brownish flush coloring his four slender fingers.
“Captain,” Ia acknowledged. “We don’t know/are blocked from communicating/finding out, but/yet the Marines have boarded/are helping your vessel/crew. Are you/will you be alright/functional/stable?”
Gatsugi almost never approached a conversation in Terranglo with a single set of terms. Their language was literally an amalgamation of language, gesture, and skin-changing colormood. It was an awkward way to talk, and a bit lengthy, but diplomatic. She knew the alien was on the edge of his version of sanity, given what he had just endured.
“Yes/no/yes. I live/survive/will suffer/have nightmares/ terrors.” He flicked his hand again, the tips now turning reddish. “The Salik/leader/effluence used/touched the yellow/bright/ scared buttons/keys to lock/seal/secure the bridge/this place, and another effluence/beast/monster approached/used the olive/ dull/morose console/panel/controls over there/to the left to seal/ stop/interrupt communications/broadcasts.”
“You are a brave/watchful/coherent being/meioa, keeping your wits/eyes open like that/as you did,” Ia praised him. Shifting the sucker hand to the right-side controls on the captain’s console, she prodded and pulled on several of the buttons. The doors beeped after several seconds. “There. They should now be unlocked.”
“Good job. Can you get those jammers off, too?” Estes asked her. “We’re all working blind, if we can’t communicate with each other.”
“I’ll try.” Carefully disengaging the hand, she unlocked her armor and shuffled back out of the captain’s alcove. It didn’t take long, once she lasered away the seat so she could fit into the workstation, to figure out where to place the vacuum-suckered device. The workstation controlled three sets of jamming devices. Two were active, the hyperrelay jammers, and the internal radio-based jammers. The insystem jammers weren’t working, mainly because the explosion back at the midship airlock had wiped out the necessary equipment.
The hyperrelay jammers were code-locked; there was no way she could crack them without proving she was a psychic of some sort. The internal jammers were simply a matter of manipulating the control menus to shut down the program. As soon as she did so, Ia activated her command link to D’kora.
“This is Corporal Ia to Lieutenant D’kora. Can you hear me?”
“Corporal! You got the jammers shut off!”
“Just the internal ones, sir. Radio wasn’t code-locked. It’ll take cryptographers who are a hell of a lot better at reading Salhash than I am to break the codes on the hyperrelay jammers.”
“So they do have one. Good work.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Head craned up to look at the screens, Ia skimmed the information, leaning heavily on the timestreams to read what she was looking at.
“This control also has some operations sensors . . . what few we haven’t shot to hell, of course. Ah . . . the hyperrelay jammers are located in the hangar bay . . . forward bulkhead. I can’t tell if there are any Salik or Choya present in the hangar, but given how all of the sensors are still active, I think it’s safe to say yes, sir.”
“Noted.”
D’kora switched channels to the platoon-wide link.
“This is Lt. D’kora. All combat frequencies are now clear. B through E Squad leaders, report.”
The link for A Squad lit up.
“Private Hooke to the bridge crew, I’ve got your location on my scanners. We’re tracking several armed and armored Salik headed your way. I repeat, A Alpha, A Beta, you have several armed and armored Salik heading your way!”
“Acknowledged, Hooke. I can see you on the internal sensors,”
Ia added, depressing a couple of the controls.
“You’re headed . . . yes. Split up and half of you take the next junction on the right. You’re one floor above us. There are two stairwells down. One is the ones the Salik are headed for. The other is just below the damaged section, but I know the seals are still good.
“The group taking the damaged stairwell will come in from the right of the bridge as you face into it, and the group trailing the enemy will come in on the left. We’ll be ready to attack from the bridge when you get here.”
She paused, then added,
“Be advised the bridge is intact, but currently a mess. Don’t look too closely at anything.”
“What does
that
mean?”
she heard Knorrsson ask.
“It means I made a mess. Hurry up, the Salik won’t wait long to attack.”
Moving back to the captain’s station, she relocked the double doors into the bridge, then switched to her external comm again. “Estes, get the captain a gun. Captain, come here/take refuge/shelter.”
Wounded but no longer bound in place, the Gatsugi limped her way. He accepted the gun Estes passed to him with grim but pleased shades of blue and red; beyond that much, his colormoods were too complex to be discerned without dipping into the timestreams. Ia didn’t bother. Easing out of the confined space, she moved around to the front of the console and stooped, pointing with a servo-finger at the sucker hand.
“Touch/press/manipulate the buttons/controls on this hand/ device in this/this pattern when I tell you/command it,” she instructed, repeating “this” so he recognized it as emphasis. Showing the alien the pattern to unlock the doors, she made sure he practiced it, fingering the controls lightly. A bang on the bridge door startled both of them. The alien flushed a muddy shade of beige, fear-mood, and tightly gripped the laser pistol Estes had liberated from a dead Choya. “You will survive/get home,” she murmured. “I promise/swear.”
It was hard to tell what a Gatsugi was looking at, since their pupils and irises were nearly the same, multi-spectrum absorbing black, but he did nod. Or rather, bobbed his inverted teardrop of a head, on a neck with two more of what passed for its vertebrae than what a Human possessed. She couldn’t bob her own head in reply, but flexed her wrist, bobbing her left hand in Gatsugi third-gradient agreement.
“They’re beginning to burn through, Corporal,” Double-E warned her.
“I will count down/reduce from/at 5 to 1,” she instructed the alien. He bobbed his head again. Pulling away, she swung her rifle back into her servo-hands and took two steps forward, facing the doors. The position would put her armored body, with its ceristeel coating, between the captain and the enemy. “Lock and load. Double-E, you’re on the right. Estes, on the left. Harkins, keep an eye on the prisoners. If they move, shoot them.”
“They/The Salik will perish/die. Not/Not me,” the captain of the
Clearly-Standing
asserted softly, clutching the gun. The door banged a second time, but held.
“
Shakk
that,” Harkins muttered, and flexed out his left-forearm gun, stunning the five surviving prisoners. Sealing up the holdout stunner, he swung his own HK-114 into position. “I’m with the good captain. We fight, and
they
die.”
“A Alpha, Beta, this is Hooke, we’re in position.”
“Be mindful of cross-fire. A Epsilon, stay under cover. Fire only if they retreat to you. A Delta, open fire on my mark.
Heads up
,”
Ia warned the squad members in the bridge, blink-coding her helmet to broadcast the countdown to both them and the rest of A Squad. “5 . . . 4 . . . 3 . . . 2 . . . 1, mark!”
The doors successfully opened. Ia aimed and fired the moment the crack between the two blast panels was wide enough for the streak of light. More crimson shot from the left, countering the deep orange of the Salik weapons. Two of them whirled to fire at the bridge, but Estes and Double-E were right there, cross-firing through the opening from each side.
Harkins fired at something gripped in one of their servo-tentacles. A grenade. It exploded, banging chunks of mechsuit arm into the other Salik. The proximity of the explosion ripped a chunk of protective casing off the power pack in the back. Ia smiled grimly, watching as fire from Soyuez, or maybe Estradille, lanced into the sparking gap as the alien lost control and spun around. Cranking her external speakers up, she shouted a warning.
“FIRE IN THE HOLE!”
Estes and Double-E instinctively flinched back at her shout, spinning away from the opening. Harkins crouched reflexively. Ia stood her ground, though she lowered her rifle. The damaged power pack exploded with a
bang
, releasing all of its stored energy. Pieces flung everywhere, knocking the other Salik off their servo-flippers.
A large chunk of chest plate and what had sheltered behind it flung into the bridge, slamming into Ia from head to chest. It knocked her back a step, but only a step. Had she taken cover, it would have bashed through the captain’s station, damaging too many of the bridge controls and possibly killing the Gatsugi taking shelter behind it.
As it was, the armor
clanged
to the ground, and the flesh it had protected slid down her helm with a
glop
onto her servo-foot. The crimson mess rendered her faceplate useless, leaving Ia with only what her HUD sensors could pick up and display. She lifted her rifle and fired again, based on its telemetry, until the outlines of the different mechunits dropped from red-lined Salik to green-lined Terran. Only then was she free to manipulate her servo-hand to scrape some of the gore from her helm. Some, but not all.
Quiet descended. Ia drew in a deep breath, focusing on the recycled, dry scent of her sealed mechsuit’s air.
“Corporal Ia to A Squad, is the enemy neutralized?”
Several replies came back at once.
“Aye, Corporal!” “Indeedy.” “Splattered to goo.”
On-mike groans met that last one.
“Delta, Epsilon, remain on alert. Guard both corridors against further incursions. Beta, keep an eye on the prisoners, and on the good captain. Estes, you and I get to check to see if anything is still alive, and clear a path through the mess.”
Switching frequencies, she contacted D’kora.
“Corporal Ia to Lieutenant D’kora, the bridge is once again secure. A Squad excluding Gamma will maintain a perimeter watch and hold the bridge until further notice.”
“Good work, Corporal. We’re experiencing some resistance in the hangar bay. I’m keeping Gamma Team with me for the extra firepower.”
“Understood, sir.”
Scraping again at her faceplate, reducing the crimson blur to streaks of reddish brown smears, Ia moved forward to help Estes sort through the firefight debris.
Double-E turned to face her, then did a double-take. “Holy . . . ! I think you got even
more
. . . stuff . . . on your armor this time! You’re covered helm to boot in that stuff.”
Ia didn’t bother to scrub at her faceplate a third time. The flexor-gloves inside her suit could imitate many of the moves possible by a Human hand, but the servo-gloves on the outside were only covered in the plexi version of flesh on the palm-side of her mechanical hand. Plexflesh which was growing sticky from the drying blood already scraped onto it, and which would only smear around the remaining mess at best.
BOOK: Theirs Not To Reason Why: A Soldier's Duty
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