“What the?” Leslie whispered.
A boom sounded—one must have accompanied the first shot as well, but she hadn’t heard it—and the Nietzschean’s head ceased to exist.
There was only one weapon she knew of that made a sound quite liked like that: an SMI’s GNR.
Seconds later, Rika raced around the corner, stopping atop the fallen body of the Nietzschean.
“Stars, Leslie, are you OK? You’re covered in blood!”
Leslie stood mute for a moment, gasping for breath, until she finally managed to say, “It’s not mine…well, most of it isn’t, at least.”
Rika glanced back the way she’d come. “Looks like engineering is sealed up. We need to get to the bridge.”
Leslie looked at her commander, the woman who just couldn’t be stopped, and began to laugh, feeling tears stream down her cheeks.
“What’s so funny?”
“You…Do you…” Leslie managed to gasp before gaining a modicum of control. “Do you realize that every time I try to rescue you, you rescue me instead?”
Rika shrugged. “Not my fault you’re the perennial damsel in distress, Leslie. We all have our part to play.”
“Damsel!” Leslie growled as she approached Rika. “I’ll show you a damsel. Let’s go kill some Niets.”
* * * * *
“Gotta love your gumption.” Rika was about to slap Leslie on the shoulder as the woman approached, when she saw the biofoam filling a wound there. “Damn, how many places are you hit?”
“Ummm…four that breached armor,” Leslie counted, glancing down at herself.
<You’re one tough kitty,> Niki added. <How many lives you use up here?>
<Just the one—when they shot down the mech frame I was in. I leapt the final ten meters to the ship’s landing struts; thought I was going to do an impression of a meteor,> Leslie replied to the AI. <Was saved by my tail.>
<Dang, how far up were you?> Rika asked.
<Few klicks. I probably could have survived it…but I would have needed a new everything. The tail can only impart so much luck.>
Rika snorted as she turned back the way she’d come. <There are probably some Niets forming up in my wake. I didn’t kill ‘em all, just blasted through.>
<Complement on the ship is sixty-five, all told,> Niki supplied. <Fifty-one troopers, then the naval personnel and the brass.>
<I got at least fifteen,> Leslie put her tally on their combat net.
<And I got twelve,> Rika added hers, not seeing any overlap. <So we’re looking at twenty-four more grunts out there.>
Leslie jerked a thumb over her shoulder. <And probably half a dozen in engineering.>
<I have feeds in there. I count five,> Niki reported.
<So twenty-two all together,> Rika said as she reached the next intersection, and checked the cross passages before proceeding. <Sixty meters and two decks to the bridge. Piece of cake.>
It was a hard slog through the ship. The Niets threw everything they had at the two Marauders, eventually venting atmosphere and killing the a-grav across the entire ship. Rika was surprised they’d made such a silly mistake; a mech was just as at home in zero-g as full gravity, and Leslie moved like a ballet dancer, floating through the passageways and holing everything in sight.
Thirty minutes later, they had reached the final ten-meter corridor that ran to the bridge. Executive offices lined the sides, and the last nine enemy soldiers had taken up positions in them, desperately trying to hold off the two Marauders’ unrelenting assault.
Leslie had picked up a chaingun a deck down and was spraying rounds into the corridor with wild abandon, the barrage tearing through the bulkheads and into the rooms beyond.
<Careful you don’t tear a hole right into the bridge,> Rika cautioned.
Niki laughed. <I think that the bulkhead separating the bridge can take it.>
<What’s so funny?> Leslie asked. <I’m pissed at these asshats. No one takes my Rika and tries to fly off with her, then nearly kills me. We’re making an example.>
<I don’t know that you can make an example if you kill them all,> Rika interjected, firing a round from her GNR when her nanoprobes pinpointed another Niet’s location within the offices.
<Oh, crap!> Rika and Niki exclaimed at the same time.
<Double trouble?> Leslie asked.
<They’re jumping early. We’re still three light seconds from the point, but—> Niki’s words cut off as they felt the unsettling gravity fluctuation that heralded a transition into the dark layer.
<OK…not dead,> Rika said as she looked around. <So, there’s that.>
<Three, two, one,> Niki counted down slowly. <Now you can celebrate. We’re past the jump point’s location. Hooray for not being smeared across a clump of dark matter.>
<It’s the little things that matter most.> Rika breathed a sigh of relief.
There was a reason people flew out to jump points before transitioning to the dark layer. She used to think it was just the risk of hitting dark matter, but after Tanis had told her about the Exaldi, she had a whole new reason to fear insystem jumps.
<Hey,> Leslie said as she lobbed a pilfered grenade through an open door. <Didn’t you tell me you have a direct line to Tanis in your noggin? One of their QuanComm blades?>
<It’s in my stomach…or thereabouts,> Rika replied. <But the control systems for it got damaged when the Niets used me for a lightning rod. Niki’s working on fixing them.>
<Well, I’m not. More like it’s working on fixing itself. It’s all black box tech. Right now, it says it’s recalibrating, but it’s also said that for the last day. We shouldn’t hold out hope.>
<We don’t need hope,> Rika replied. <In ten minutes, we’ll have the bridge, and then we’ll drop this tin can back into normal space and call for pickup. We’ll be having chow on the Lance before the day is out.>
<Day’s out in eleven minutes. Then it’s tomorrow,> Leslie commented as she advanced two meters into the passageway, and fired into the open door she’d lobbed the ‘nade through moments earlier.
<Smartass,> Rika replied.
<Clear,> Leslie reported. <And I’m not an ass, I’m a cat. Get your mammals straight.>
<You say your relationship with Barne hasn’t changed you,> Rika noted while taking aim with her GNR and firing her electron beam through the bulkhead, into a cabin beyond. <But that really sounds like his bad ‘dad humor’ to me.>
<Trust me, I’d be getting a good dose of his humor even if I wasn’t sleeping with him.> Leslie emerged from the room she’d cleared, and covered Rika while the she kicked in the door to the next office. <Speaking of which, he wants me to get cat ears. Think I should go whole kitty?>
<What, like you had for your singing gig in Stavros’ officer’s club?> Rika asked. <Sure, it was pretty hot. Made me think about switching teams for a minute or two—but if you do it, you should go full kitty.>
Rika cleared the room, finishing off a wounded Niet when he raised his weapon to fire on her, and then took up a position to cover Leslie as she moved to the next office.
<What does ‘full kitty’ mean? Is that more than whole kitty?> Leslie asked as she kicked the door in and stood back for Rika to fire her electron beam into the office.
<Well…maybe? I’m thinking you should get the whiskers, cat nose, all that. Maybe even a little mane, too.>
After Rika’s shot, Leslie swung into the room and unloaded a kinetic scattershot gun into the space, pumping out four rounds before reappearing in the entrance.
<Not sure about a mane; I like my hair. Plus, Barne doesn’t like fur.>
<Up to you,> Rika replied, lining up with the final room before they reached the door the bridge. <Not like it’s permanent. You should try it, you could be our battalion’s mascot.>
<Wow,
way to not sell it,> Leslie said.
<You might already be the mascot,> Niki interjected. <More than a few of the Marauders have a picture of you and your tail on their armor—well, they did before the stealth gear. Now they tattoo it on.>
Leslie made a hissing sound at the AI, who laughed in response. Then she fired into the final room after Rika had kicked the door open.
<Huh,> Rika said, peering into the office where a dead officer lay on the floor. <Already dead.>
<The Niets are killing each other before we get to them?> Leslie asked, scorn filling her mental tone. <Unacceptable! We kill the Niets. Don’t they know how this works?>
<I guess we’ll have to remind them,> Rika said as she walked to the bridge’s door. <Sealed tight.>
<I have access to environmental. It’s aired up on the other side,> Niki informed the duo.
<No feeds?> Leslie asked.
<They’ve killed optics on the far side, but the environmental load matches up with five smaller humans, or four larger ones. Or a mix. Take your pick.>
<Four to five biggish-smallish humans.> Rika didn’t try to hide the sarcasm in her voice. <We’ve not yet encountered our friend the admiral yet. I’m betting he’s in there.>
<Seems logical,> Leslie agreed. <We still want him alive, right?>
The colonel sighed. <Yeaaah, I suppose. Would be a waste to go through all this and just have him suck vacuum in the end.>
<I’m working on airing up this part of the ship. It’s taking some work, since you shot four…make that five holes in the hull,> Niki announced.
While Niki did her work, Rika piggybacked on the AI’s tap into the shipnet, and found the control systems for the 1MC. There was only minimal security on the audible comm system, a standard Nietzschean firewall and port intrusion system she’d breached before.
Less than a minute later, she was in.
“Admiral Gideon? Can you come out to play?” she asked with a soft laugh, able to faintly hear her own voice as the ship began to air up once more.
“You think you’re funny, don’t you, mech?”
Rika glanced at Leslie, who only shrugged, and she replied, “Well, I’ll admit that Les and I got a bit riled up, carving our way through your ship. We’re kinda chomping at the bit to get into the bridge and finish things off.”
“You may get through, but you’ll be too late.” The admiral’s voice carried a note of smug satisfaction.
“Too late for what?” Rika asked. “To crush all your hopes and dreams? There’s still time, trust me.”
“We’ve rigged the transition system to hold us in the DL until we reach Epsilon. Plus, engineering is dumping all but our emergency fuel reserves, just in case you manage to get around that plan. Pull us out of FTL, and we’ll just drift in the black forever.”
The admiral paused, and Rika began to calculate if they were still close enough to the Blue Ridge System to jump into escape pods.
“Oh,” Admiral Gideon continued. “In case you were thinking to get off the ship, we blew all the pods and trashed the shuttle. We’re on a one-way trip. Even though you think you’ve won, you’ve still lost.”
Rika fought the urge to fire her electron beam at the bridge’s door ‘til she melted her way through, but after the combat, her internal batteries were perilously low, and she suspected she wouldn’t make it through.
<I can confirm all that,> Niki said, sounding dejected. <We’re stuck here—and stuck in FTL.>
<For now,> Rika replied. She glanced at Leslie, who had leant against a bulkhead, her chest heaving as the air grew thick enough to breathe. <Were you having problems?> she asked her friend.
<A bit. My scrubbers were fouled already. I didn’t realize how lightheaded I was until I switched back to externals.>
“Colonel Rika?” the admiral asked, his voice still carrying a triumphant note.
“What?” she shot back.
The admiral was chuckling over the comms as he replied, “Don’t think you can breach the bridge or engineering, either. You come through either of our doors, and engineering blows the ship. They’ve got the reactors ready to go at a moment’s notice.”
<Can’t confirm that,> Niki said with a long sigh. <But it doesn’t surprise me in the least.>
Rika glared at the bridge’s sealed door. “Fine,” she called out over the 1MC. “Have it your way.”
Activating her lightwand, she drove it into the bulkhead, melting it to the bridge’s door in four locations, and sealing the admiral and his three or four compatriots in the bridge.
“Enjoy your tomb.”
Leslie chuckled, pushing herself off the bulkhead. <Nice one.>
Rika grinned, though Leslie couldn’t see it behind her helmet. <You hungry?>
<Starving.>
As they walked back down the corridors, Rika couldn’t help but wonder what Chase and the rest of the Marauders were doing. She felt as though her mad rush to capture the Nietzschean commanders had let them down.
I sure hope they’re managing OK back on Kansas.
VISITORS
STELLAR DATE: 10.14.8949 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: MSS Asora, in orbit of Kansas
REGION: Blue Ridge System, Old Genevia, Nietzschean Empire
“Captain Klen,” Senator Naia said as she entered the bridge ahead of Glen. “Thank you for allowing me on your ship. It’s…a bit strange to be aboard a Nietzschean vessel, and know it was one of the vehicles of our deliverance.”
<Oh stars, she talks like a politician,> Ashley said over the crew’s shipnet.
<Yeah, she’s been doing that the whole way up here,> Glen replied. <Even Field Marshal Richards didn’t talk like this, and she’s pretty much queen of the universe. Naia’s just some planetary senator from a backwater I never even knew was in Genevia ‘til a week ago.>
<Easy, Glen, I’ve got it from here,> Vargo replied quashing the flashbacks he was having of a former life, long ago.
<Thank stars,> Glen replied. <She’s got a bunch of flunkies, too; they’re in the officer’s mess. I’m going to trust that the servitors can manage them, and go back to juggling radioactive isotopes. Way safer than politicians.>
<Wimp,> Ashley said in parting.
“I’m very glad to meet you,” Vargo said, rising and offering the senator his hand, which she stared at for a moment, before recovering herself and shaking it.
“Um, yes. I have to say, Captain Klen—I hope this doesn’t come across wrong—I’m surprised that you’re a mech.”
“If you’d met me a month ago, I wouldn’t have been one,” Vargo replied with a wink. “Got an upgrade after trying to plumb the depths of a gas giant.”
A look of confusion came over Senator Naia’s face. “I’m sorry?”
“Got injured in a battle,” Vargo explained simply before turning to Ashley. “This is my second-in-command, Chief Ashley.”
<This’ll be good,> Ashley said privately as she rose and offered one of her right hands. “Very nice to meet you, Senator.”
To her credit, the senator handled Ashley better than she had Vargo, shaking her hand with only a look of mild consternation on her face.
“I’m sorry that this probably sounds improper to you, but are all Marauders mechs?”
Vargo gestured to a seat near his, and the senator smiled in thanks as she took it.
“No,” he replied. “Most of the Marauders are not mechs. However, this is Colonel Rika’s battalion, and in Rika’s Marauders nearly everyone is a mech.”
“The Nietzscheans always said they killed the mechs…yet you said you just got made into one?”
“They didn’t get them all,” Vargo replied with a lopsided grin. “A lot got away—they let some go, too, like Rika. And she found even more not long ago, in a place called the Politica. Freed them, and has been building up a force to hold back Nietzschea. We hooked up with the Scipio Alliance not long after, and they upgraded our old GAF mechs to 4th Gen, and let anyone who wanted make the change as well.”
“And you opted for mechanization as well, Chief Ashley?” Senator Naia asked. “I don’t recall seeing any four-armed mechs during the war.”
“Opted?” Ashley asked as she flipped through displays on two separate consoles. “I leapt at the chance. We’re spread a bit thin when it comes to shipboard operations, so Finaeus offered a set of mods to our minds and bodies that makes us able to multitask a lot better. I’ve always really liked being able to manage a lot of things at once, so it was a no-brainer for me. Plus, I can kick serious ass.”
“Finaeus?” Naia asked.
“Finaeus Tomlinson,” Vargo Klen explained, enjoying name-dropping on the senator more than he should. “The chief engineer on the Tardis, the second FGT ship to leave Sol.”
This time, Senator Naia’s mouth hung open for a full six seconds before she recovered. “The FGT?”
He nodded while giving a commiserating laugh. “I’d best start from the beginning; then we can talk about how to make things better for Kansas and the Blue Ridge System at large. Would you like something to drink? I can have a servitor bring it.”
The senator gave Vargo the first genuine smile he’d seen since she entered the bridge. “I’m on a Nietzschean destroyer with a pair of newly minted mechs, who are about to tell me how the FGT upgraded them to take the fight to Nietzschea. Yeah, make it a whiskey.”
Thirty minutes later, Vargo had related the bulk of Rika’s story and the amazing events of the past few weeks to Senator Naia—who had eventually dropped into stunned silence, limited to sipping her whiskey and nodding periodically.
“And that brings us up to our visit here,” he finished, leaning back in his chair and lacing his fingers behind his head, before remembering that the last time he’d done so, it had been surprisingly difficult to get them separated again.
He carefully disentangled them, and set his arms on the chair’s armrests.
“If I hadn’t seen your five ships defeat the forty Nietzschean vessels orbiting Kansas a few days ago, I wouldn’t believe a word of it,” Naia admitted quietly. “But it’s hard to deny reality—not that I’d want to, in this case. In all honesty, your story sounds like music to my ears—which is not something we’re used to around here. The resistance has fought a losing battle against the Niets for years; to see you knock them down like it was nothing—”