Carson Mach 1: The Atlantis Ship (16 page)

Going up against the destroyer of an orbital station in a beat-up E-class was suicide. And perhaps Morgan knew that. It’d sure be an easy way of getting rid of Mach and the others. Friends or not, Mach knew he’d made Morgan’s life difficult over the years.
 

Sanchez led them between the hangars and warehouses. Feronians floated between buildings on anti-g platforms, transferring crates of supplies. Two white armored vehicles, emblazoned with the star-shaped Feronia logo on the side, rumbled past on their chunky black tracks. They were local militia, paid by the feronian council but probably in the pockets of the orcus.
 

“Do you know the orcus’ strength?” Mach asked.
 

Sanchez rubbed his stubbly chin. “Most of the grunts supervise in the mines. They run a few rackets in the city, but it’s hard to tell who is affiliated. I’ve got a couple of contacts and supplied them horan carbines last year.”

“Leave it to the expert,” Adira said. “I carried out a hit here a couple of years ago. The compound’s gonna be a tough job.”

Sanchez grunted. “A hit’s not exactly the same as robbing a gang.”

“Whatever,” Mach said, stopping their conversation before it ended up becoming a scar-comparing contest. “We’ll scout the two locations and come to a decision.”

They trekked away from the shipyard and crossed over the peninsula separating it from the main city. At the top of the hill, Mach shielded his eyes and scanned a snaking track that led through a shallow, sparse rocky valley to the distant mountains. Plenty of places to mount an ambush, but they didn’t know the level of protection the convoy had.
 

The city lay directly ahead, hugging five miles of coastline. Like the warehouses behind the hangars, it was designed in a grid system. Eight long streets extended along the full length, crossed by others at regularly spaced intervals.
 

Mach remembered visiting the city for the first time, thinking the square white buildings had a boring look. It turned out not to be the case. During the evening, the central streets turned into a sea of seedy activity. Feronian prostitutes prowled outside the bars; visiting species from the CW and the Axis drank inside and took part in high-stakes gambling.
 

Sanchez checked his smart-screen. “He’s waiting for us behind the Nebula Club. That’s a street away from their stronghold.”

“Perfect,” Adira said. “Grab as much intel as you can.”

The club had a familiar-sounding name, but Mach couldn’t remember if he’d been in it before. He woke up in his old ship after a night out a few years ago, with a blank memory, black eye and eighty thousand eros knocked off his balance.
 

At the bottom of the gently sloping paved hill, leading from the peninsula to the city, Sanchez headed right and ducked down an alley between two filthy white buildings. Both had dull black power units attached to their sides. It provided the home management system for feronians. Electricity, communications, and the strange virtual reality games they played that were supposed to assist them with their work.

Mach let Adira go ahead and noticed the outline of her knife’s handle in the thigh pocket of her suit.
 

The alley led to a thirty-meter-wide pod park, just off a main street that ran through the city. A feronian, dressed in a tight brown bodysuit, stood next to a dusty black hover bike, under the shade provided by the back of the Nebula Club’s block wall. He acknowledged Sanchez with a nod.
 

“Tarkun, how long’s it been?” Sanchez said, turning on his best gunrunner’s charm. “Not using your exo nowadays?”

“It’s back at the mine,” Tarkun said and looked around Sanchez as Mach and Adira approached. “Who are they?”

“Two of the crew. We’re staying here tonight for a bit of fun. What time do you finish work?”

“I’m not sure I want to be in a bar with you, Sanchez.”

The big hunter laughed. “Oh, come on. Once I’m back on my feet, I’ll bring you some vestan lasers. Just a couple of drinks for old time’s sake?”

“Very well. I’ll be back with the convoy before sunset. They’ll probably join me. Tell your friends to keep their mouths shut unless they’re asked a question.”

“The entire group?” Sanchez said and puffed his cheeks. “There’s not enough room to swing a snake in the Nebula.”
 

“There’s only five of us. You can buy the drinks.”

“Sounds good to me. Let’s get our business out of the way. I want to stash them on our ship before the militia start sniffing around.”

“You won’t get any trouble from them,” Tarkun said, and nodded toward the main road. A feronian in a leathery royal blue uniform stood by the side of it and rolled an electric bat in his hand.
 

Tarkun flipped open a compartment at the back of his hover bike and pulled out a long gray bag. He unfastened it and showed three antique SamCore Vipers. Stun weapons that ceased to be produced seven decades ago. Mach had used a couple before; they were reliable old beasts.
 

“They’re charged and ready to go,” Tarkun said. “Ten thousand eros.”

Sanchez waved Mach forward. He configured the amount on his smart-screen and held his wrist against Tarkun’s. The exchange confirmed with a soft electronic bleep.
 

Mach tucked the bag under his arm. “Pleasure doing business.”
 

Tarkun turned to Sanchez and pointed a spindly finger in Mach’s direction. “Don’t bring this one tonight. There’s something about him I don’t like.”

“He won’t be at the bar,” Sanchez said. “You can trust me on that.”

The feronian straddled his hover bike and fired up its engines to a whine. The bike gently lifted a meter into the air and drifted toward the main road. Dust and small stones sprayed across the ground in its hot wake.
 

“If these are your friends,” Adira said, “I’d hate to see your enemies.”

“He’s gonna be my enemy soon enough,” Sanchez said. “Five on the convoy shouldn’t be too much trouble if we find a decent place on the trail.”

“Agreed,” Mach said. “Let’s take a quick scan of the compound.”

Adira shook her head. “If it’s anything like the last time I checked it out, we’ll be facing at least twenty armed feronians.”

“She’s right,” Sanchez said. “The numbers have swung it.”

Mach shielded his brow and checked local time on his smart-screen. The sun had dipped in the sky since he last checked, meaning they only had a couple of hours to find a suitable position for the crystal heist.

Mach crouched on top of the peninsula’s hill, positioned between the shipyard and the city, and surveyed inland. The trail to the mine at the bottom of the mountain had been quiet for the last ten minutes.
 

Sanchez had stripped and reassembled each of the Vipers, ensuring their serviceability.
 

Adira stood by Mach’s side, resting a hand on his shoulder. She pointed at a cluster of rocks on the trail, at the mouth of a shallow valley that led toward the city. “That’s where we should do it. One of us provides covering fire from height. The other two take the convoy down from ground level.”

The plan was solid enough. They would never know what kind of weapons they were facing until they sprang the ambush, but the one-shot deal to secure the Jaguar was good enough to take the risk.
 

Mach decided to check on the other group’s progress. He keyed Babcock on his smart-screen and raised it to his mouth. “Babcock, how are things going on your end?”

“Like a dream. You’ll love it. They’ve opened the hangar roof for takeoff, and the JPs are being taken through the controls.”

“Nothing out of the ordinary for us to worry about?”

“Nope. The engineers here know about your mission and they’re buzzing. It means they’re all in work for another year. All seems legit.”

“Be ready to go around sunset. If we don’t return after dark, get back to the Phalanx-E and head for the nearest space port.”

“I know you well enough, Mach. See you in an hour.”

Sanchez placed the Vipers back in the gray bag and shouldered it. Keeping the weapons concealed was the best approach. Two humans and a fidian walking along the trail to the mine and armed with Vipers would set off alarm bells. As it was, they were just a crew having a stroll out of the city. Nothing out of the ordinary for people who landed and didn’t want to sample Feronia Prime’s delights.
 

Adira led the way down a dusty thin path, surrounded by wiry brown shrubs. The sun’s heat weakened as it dipped toward the sea, casting long shadows across the ground. Mach wondered why they only had five people in the convoy. The only logical conclusion was that most people wouldn’t have the balls to rob the orcus on their home world. After years of having the freedom of the city, their guard had dropped.
 

“Do we kill after we stun?” Adira said, jumping straight to an obvious practical problem. They would be hunted down if any of the gang lived to tell the tale. Mach didn’t like cutting off access to planets in the Salus Sphere, or killing for no reason, so stunning would do the job.
 

“Stun and move quick,” Mach said. “They’ll contact others and they’ll be straight on top of us.”

“Agreed,” Sanchez said. “We can pay back a holdup if we complete our mission. They’ve got plenty more crystals in the mine. They won’t forgive us for killing their crew.”

“Screw them,” Adira said. “They’re jumped-up pirates and smugglers. I’m never coming back to this hellhole.”

Mach could see both points of view, but they had to have a clear strategy, but he refused to kill anybody in cold blood. The orcus wouldn’t think twice about killing them, but the plan was to not give them a chance.

“I’m leaving on
the
Jaguar,” Mach said. “As much as I hate to say it, Adira, we’re taking the soft approach.”

Adira shook her head and kicked a stone along the path.
 

Mach understood that it probably railed against her killer instinct, but once they captured the Atlantis ship, Adira could forget that life.
 

At the bottom of the path, they joined the trail toward the mountains. The brown dirt valley rose twenty meters either side of them. Nothing came in either direction and they reached the rocks after two minutes. Sanchez handed out the Vipers.
 

Twice as heavy as the new graphene models, Mach thought. He shouldered it, flicked on the electronic scope and peered through it. The rifle automatically focused on moving objects: great for hunting single creatures, but confusing in a firefight. He switched it back to manual.
 

“I’ll take the top,” Adira said.
 

She scrambled up the small hill and nestled between two boulders in the prone firing position. Sanchez edged behind a pile of rocks and dropped to one knee. Mach ducked alongside him. Carrying out moves like this always took him back to the old days on Fides Prime, carrying out military exercises in the sweltering jungle. All CWDF destroyer crew had to learn basic soldiering before the boring technical lectures began.
 

The white streaky cirrus in the sky took on a pink tinge as the sun continued to lower. Natural light began to fade, but they still had a good level of visibility, and the Viper had a night-sight option.
 

“Something’s coming,” Adira said.
 

Mach craned his neck around the pile of rocks. Two black vehicles snaked around the trail, leaving a cloud of dust behind. Two-track trucks with open cabins. At least the five orcus hadn’t come on hover bikes. That would’ve made things a lot harder if the one carrying the crystals split, and the others fired their mini laser cannons.
 

The gruff engine noise and the monotonous cranking of the tracks grew louder.
 

“Two TTs. Fire at the front cabin. I’ll take the rear one,” Mach said.
 

Sanchez nodded and slipped his finger around the trigger. “You got it.”

Tracks crunched over loose stones only thirty meters away. A single headlight stabbed out of the front of the lead vehicle, brightening the increasingly gloomy valley. Mach glanced back at Adira. She aimed down, ready to fire.
 

“Ready?” Mach asked.

Sanchez didn’t wait for a command. He sprinted to the edge of the track, aimed at the truck’s windshield and fired an energy burst.
 

Mach ran straight past him. An orcus gang member jumped out of the side door and raised a laser. Before he could fire, Mach zapped him in the chest. He quickly switched aim to the cabin. The other door was open. Multiple footsteps pounded against the dirt.
 

The distinctive fire of a Viper crackled high to his left. Adira found her target. A body hit the ground.

“Front truck clear,” Sanchez called out.
 

A head appeared around the back of the rear truck. Mach ducked in front. “We’ve still got one back here.”

Mach took a few deep breaths and wiped sweat from his brow. Sanchez dashed around forward and skidded to a halt next to him. “Three in the front cabin. One here. That’s one left.”

“Sanchez,” a voice called out, “is that you?”

“Damn,” Sanchez said and glanced around the side of the truck. “It’s Tarkun.”

Fuel from the front engine pooled around Mach’s boots. He elbowed Sanchez and gestured down with his rifle. “We have to finish this. Now.”

“Come out, Sanchez,” Tarkun shouted. “If it’s the crystals you want, take them.”

“He’s gonna call in our position,” Carson said. “You go one way, I’ll go the other. Ready?”

“Wait,” Sanchez said. “I’ll talk to him.”

“No. It only buys the orcus more time to get here.”

Carson reached out to drag him back, but Sanchez moved swiftly around away and stood around the side with his rifle shouldered.
 

“Come out with your hands up,” Sanchez said.
 

Quickly glancing in either direction, Mach couldn’t see anything approaching. He hunched down, edged around the front end, and provided cover.