Edge of Solace (A Star Too Far) (20 page)

“Look at that thing,” a voice said softly over the comms.

“Big fucker.”

Letters flashed over the picture as one of the corporals overlaid a piece of text on it. “REKT.”

He snorted. Wrecked. That was a very precise way of putting it.

“Cut the shit.”

Yamaguchi watched the velocity drop to nearly zero.

“Grapples away,” Midshipman Lebeau called.

Thin lines snaked across the gap between the ships. They were now barely one hundred meters away. Two objects so close together on the edge of deep space seemed surreal.

The grapples landed. The pinpoints glowed red and then cooled as nanites bonded with the hull.

“On your call,” Yamaguchi said.

“One moment,” Midshipman Lebeau responded. “Captain says you’re clear.”

Yamaguchi nodded to the Engineer. “Secure suits. Check your pressure. We’re a go.”

He advanced into the airlock with the rest of the squad. The door closed behind him with a thud. Orange lights flashed alarms as the atmosphere pumped out. The door before them slid open silently.

“Latch and lock. Ten meter spacing,” Sergeant Hoffman ordered.

Before him spread the dark. The dropship looked even rougher with the dim starlight playing out along the hull. The steep angle made every gouge and puncture wound look horrible and deep. It was almost like the vids, a long lost hulk.

Private Herringbone latched his clutch mechanism onto the slender cable and mov
ed slowly. He was jarred sideways and banged against the cable. “Whoa!”

“You left the edge of the artificial gravity, keep moving,” Yamaguchi said. He should have warned them. Though he knew he’d have done the same
—he’d never done an operation like this before. No one had. It was a theoretical. He could picture the Marines grinning behind him.

He slapped his clutch onto the cable and felt it pulse under his grasp. Beneath him was nothing. A step into darkness.

Fear crept up like a tiny light. It was always there, he could feel it, but now he was alone in the suit. The depths below triggered it.

He closed his eyes and engaged the clutch. The mechanism jerked him forward and away. The line grew tight as the artificial gravity pulled him down. It was coming. He could feel it in his stomach. A pit of fear that was like heartburn rising.

The mechanism pulled and jerked and he was in zero-G. He opened his eyes and saw the pendulum motion. Felt it deep in his stomach. The nanite patch on his ankle was supplying an anti-nausea drug. If it hadn’t, he was sure the helmet would be filled with vomit.

The dropship grew closer and looked worse with every passing second. He grew doubtful they’d walk away with anything beyond some technology. The whole place must be dead.

Herringbone scrambled on the side and placed nanite anchors as he moved. There was an airlock, or what they thought was an airlock, a few meters away.

“How’s it look
, Bone?” Yamaguchi asked as he came closer.

Heavy breathing sounded on the opposite edge.

Yamaguchi keyed his comms for just Herringbone. “Stop. Look at the hull. Take a deep breath with me.” He watched as Herringbone paused and latched on to an anchor with two hands. “Now one hand for you, and one hand for the suit. Move slow. Now breathe deep again.”

The pair continued the deep breathing until Yamaguchi was on the dropship. Herringbone nodded and clutched the grip tight.

Yamaguchi felt grit and roughness even through the gloves of the power armor. The outside of the hull reminded him of sharkskin. Raspy and tight.

Around him the infantry latched on to the exterior and moved to entry points. Chatter rang back and forth as the first entry point was blocked. Squads converged.

Yamaguchi tapped Herringbone on the shoulder and helped him set more of the nanite anchors. A spider web of cables grew on the outside.

“Want a hole
, LT?” Corporal Desmond asked. The Corporal wore a large boxy pack containing a plasma cutter.

“Negative, we’re going to pop the airlock and see how it looks.” Yamaguchi slid his hand over the frosted window and activated a palm camera. Empty. “Pop it.”

Herringbone tugged a manual release and the hatch crept open just enough to get a grip on. The hatch was a perfect fit, like it was sheared out from the hull. Herringbone gripped and propped the hatch open slowly, carefully.

The squads were huddled up against the exterior like crabs. Weapons were unslung.

“C’mon Bone, move inside,” Corporal Desmond said.

Herringbone scrambled around the edge and into the darkness. Everyone saw his feed as he scanned around and peered through the plate view screen. The hallway beyond looked empty.

“Wait.” Yamaguchi leaned harder against the hull and closed his eyes. Heartbeats echoed in his ear as he held his breath and waited.

The squads around him tensed.

“First squad in, cycle it, then next through. Bingo?” Yamaguchi said.

“Bingo,” the squad replied.

Yamaguchi pushed his way next to the airlock door and into the dark space. The atmosphere light flickered between orange and green. Atmosphere, but not much. He felt a bit better knowing that anyone out of a suit wouldn’t be a threat. It’d be like walking on Everest.

The airlock filled.

“Hit it,” Yamaguchi ordered.

The FN Herstal rifles pointed forward. Rounds cycled in. Corporal Desmond closed the exterior hatch
, followed by Herringbone twisting the inner release. A slight puff of air frosted upon entering the chamber. Dim crystals deposited themselves and melted.

Herringbone pulled out a stubby mass launcher and looked to Yamaguchi.

Yamaguchi nodded and clicked the safety off the rifle.

“Go.”

The dull boom snapped
Archie awake. Was he sleeping? He didn’t even know.
Focus.

“Shit
.” His tongue was like a leather slab in his mouth. Thirst like he never knew burned inside of him. His arms were weak, his stomach tight, his legs wobbled.

The boom sounded again followed by a dull roar of gunfire. The hull shuddered beneath him. A light flickered and flared. His only light.

Darkness, not again. He almost whimpered. His eyes locked onto the cream colored lightcell and watched. He willed it to stay on. The light pulsed once more and steadied.

Was this it? His chance, his escape. There was only one way out.

His eyes scanned the room. Broken wreckage was pushed through one wall. Heaps and bundles of wire, tubing, and pipe.

More gunshots fired. Fear began to rise. He worried that someone was coming to shoot him. They’d walk in, level a pistol, and goodbye Archie.

Stand.
Stand.

He pushed himself up and
rested a hand on the wall. His knees burned and ached. The thirst was deep. His eyes had a hard time focusing.

The wall lurched towards. He realized he was falling into it. He threw up his arms and braced against it. The impact was slight and the room began to spin again. Bile rose in his throat and he steadied himself. The nausea passed.

His fingers ran along the buckled edge of the wall. Sharp creases and crinkles caught every ripple on his finger tips. He pulled slightly and felt it flex.

The material was stiff. Stiff enough to crack and break? He push
ed back and forth, testing the edges as he walked. One edge crackled and popped. He worked it further and further until the only thing holding it was a large nanite weld.

He stopped and listened. Something ran by the hallway. Gunfire resumed. Was it closer?

The nanite weld finally busted away from the panel. Near the edge, a ragged hole opened about the size of his hand.

He hefted it. It was odd, off balance, and burned his fingers. But it might deflect a low velocity round.

Gunshots neared. He could feel them in his bare feet. Full strength loads? That meant the dropship was almost dead.

His hands darted in and out of the wreckage. They searched and dug for the tiniest weapon. Everything was taut and rigid.

There, a slight buckle in a pipe with a tiny seam. He leaned closer and looked in the shadows. It had cracked and was slid aside slightly.

He gripped it and pushed. Nothing. The pipe seemed to be held tight.

His hands probed up and down, flexing and pushing. At a certain point he could gain purchase and really make it flex. It was moving. First a centimeter, then two. It creaked with every cycle.

His eyes closed and he pulled and pushed. The heat from the crack cycling and tempering was enough for him to feel it. He continued.

The joint pinged and popped loose.

Success! He scooted closer and looked up. The pipe was anchored above along with everything else.

“C’mon, shit.”

The pipe just flexed. He couldn’t move it far enough one way or another to make another crease.

He slid down the wall of wreckage. The floor was cool on his back. He was so tired, but he knew this was it. He needed something.

The heap was at an angle with an opening at the top. He laid the makeshift shield aside and climbed up slowly picking one hand over the other. At the top was a junction where many pipes converged and a plenum directed them all into one.

His hands gripped tight and tugged. His palms were raspy like old sandpaper. The pipe resisted every push and pull. But the whole plenum began to wobble.

The thought of dying alone in a dark room was enough to get the anger rising. He could picture his sons and that was enough. He’d not be lost in the darkness.

The anger rose into a red rage. The plenum bucked and shook as he heaved and thrashed against it. One edge popped. A second popped. The nanite welds lost strength and sheared away.

Pipes wobbled and sung as they struck one another. He continued the workout
, grunting. Finally the last two welds gave way and the plenum shifted aside.

He fell onto the floor
, out of breath. He pictured his sons, the only people actually worth anything.

The
thoughts of home, the things he fought for was enough. He stood and finished off the pipe. It was a hair over a meter long. Both ends were ragged and rough. One pinched tight from the flexing while the other was open into a hollow.

He hefted it. It was too light but about all he could do. It jabbed well, just not much mass behind it.

The shield and spear would be enough, they had to be.

Gunfire sounded closer. He knew he had one chance. Either he’d take someone coming in or burst out when the fighting was near.

He laid a palm onto the door. The ship seemed more alive than ever. A grin spread across his face and he felt almost giddy. The time was here, his escape was so close.

Heavy
footsteps came close and paused.

Archie slipped back and tucked himself against the wall
, in the shadows.

The door opened slowly and the guard from earlier stood with a baton in one hand and a pistol in the other. His eyes, not adjusted to the dark, blinked and focused.

Archie aimed and struck.

The guard flinched at the last moment. Instead of entering his throat in the center
, the ragged end of the spear caught on a tendon next to his throat and clipped his jugular. The pistol fired. He dropped the baton and clasped a hand to his throat. His eyes were wild with fear.

Archie thrust again and slammed his shield against the man
’s body.

It was over as soon as the man hit the ground. His fingers, crimson red, slid away and rested on his chest.

Archie scanned the corridor. Panels were strewn out and showed the innards of the dropship spilled out and torn. A bluish smoke hung in the air and trembled in the weak air.

He knelt down and retrieved the pistol. A slender silver line ran along the trigger. He debated pitching it and instead stuck it into his trousers. It might fire. Or it might not.

The last thing he took off the dead man was a Sa’Ami emergency air kit. He tugged the pack from behind the man and strapped it around his waist. A slender water bottle poked out from his waist.

Archie snatched it up. His fingers fumbled to remove the cap. It burned his lips as the flat lukewarm water sat on his tongue.

Water seeped down his throat and a new energy came to him. He crouched and listened. The heaviest fighting was in front of him. He padded towards it with the spear at ready.

*

Yamaguchi felt the impact of slugs through his suit, heavy cracks like a hammer on a board. He lay tucked as tightly as he could against a slender strut. The Sa’Ami kept up the pace and fired any moment he moved.

“Can you see it?” Yamaguchi called. Whoever was shooting at him was precise. Too precise to be human.

“Negative, it’s behind that last door,” Herringbone replied. “Grenade?”

The last thing he wanted was another grenade. The first one had worked a bit too well. Now they had an unintentional, secondary, exit. “Negative, Third squad will be here shortly.”

Booming echoed from the direction of the third squad. A rattling reply came and more gunfire opened up.

“Got
‘em!” Herringbone yelled.

Yamaguchi slowly slid a hand around and engaged the camera.

A slender strider lay hunched over with a bullet hole just above the chest.

“Keep moving!” Yamaguchi said as he ran forward and tucked into the nook where the strider was hidden. He glanced down at the strider and wished he had a few. They seemed sluggish though, nothing like what he encountered on the ground.

He tucked his weapon tight and scanned the passage ahead. It opened up a bit further down but only a dim light poured through. His sights slid on the forms of the shadows.

“Go
, Bone. Cover eight meters up, tuck and wait,” Yamaguchi said.

Herringbone broke out of his position and sprinted past Yamaguchi. He tucked in against another support and raised his weapon.

Yamaguchi took a breath and prepared to run. He could see Herringbone scanning with his weapon.

“Something looks funny
, LT.”

The icon on his helmet winked from orange to red
: ‘hold’. Behind him the other members of the squad crouched and waited.

“Whatcha got Bone?”

Yamaguchi heard comms click and then the open space flared white. A heavy strider stepped out from behind a large container. The bulk of the creature was bathed in a halo of light as the cannons on its arms flared out at Herringbone.

“Heavy!” Bone howled and
tucked himself close to the deck.

“Gavin, bring the bean!” Yamaguchi called.

A suit sprinted up and slid next to Yamaguchi. Gavin unslung a short barreled weapon and nodded. The weapon had a wide barrel with a simple break open breach.

Gavin popped the weapon up and leveled it on Yamaguchi’s shoulder. “It’s live!”

The weapon popped and the barrel jumped. A small cartridge flew and skittered on the deck. It bounced twice and crashed into the container with a loud bang. It huddled and shook and leaped into the undercarriage of the strider.

The small charge, the ‘bean’, latched on and crawled upwards before detonating itself with a light thud.

The sound was barely audible over the firing of the cannons.

The squad tucked tight and waited.

The bean took a moment to reach critical mass. Nanites worked inside of the strider. One group of bots stripped usable elements while another group assembled them into an explosive matrix. A final group self-assembled into a moderately intelligent force sensor.

The legs exploded sideways. A skirt of white flame blossomed. The bulk of the strider hovered for a moment and toppled forward. The cannons continued firing an arc that impacted against the floor. Rounds sputtered and ricocheted throughout the hall.

Yamaguchi watched and felt a bit better. The Sa’Ami must have wanted to save the ship, otherwise they would be firing full loads. The thought of a reactor overload had been in the back of his mind.

“Bone?” Yamaguchi asked.

“Fuck.”

“Mullins, check him out!” Yamaguchi ordered. He scanned and ran. His legs pumped with nanite muscles expending most of the energy. The form of the heavy strider passed by and he slammed into the container.

He ran too far, got away from his cover fire, but the other squads were closing. “Third squad?”

“Bit of a party here, LT,” a voice replied quickly.

A motion sensor blinked on his display. He rolled sideways. A slender strider poked a head around the crate. From its angle it was hidden by the fallen heavy.

Yamaguchi laid the barrel of his weapon down and squeezed off a burst.

The strider slammed backwards with a shower of sparks cascading onto the ground.

Yamaguchi pushed up and poked around the corner. He wanted to slam a few more rounds into it while it was dazed.

He pulled back as soon as he edged around the corner. A few feet away the strider was hunched. Behind that was a squad wearing mixed power armor, panel armor, and manning a rotary cannon.

His heart raced and he hoped they didn’t notice him.

The rotary cannon opened fire
, slamming rounds into the container.

Metal buckled under his back. The container was breached and it was just a few more seconds
‘til they slammed onto him. He pushed himself forward and dove right into the lap of the fallen heavy.

He hoped it had more armor than he did.

A suit of power armor sprinted past, it was Herringbone. A pair of grenades flickered past his eye and landed with a hollow sound.

Yamaguchi braced himself. The explosion was a hollow boom that resounded off of the container. The rotary cannon was silenced. He poked a camera around the corner and saw debris where men had once stood.

“Go, Bone! Now keep moving!” Yamaguchi ordered. He stood and looked down at the dimples where the rotary cannon had nearly punctured the container. It was going to be a long day.

*

William slid his left hand on the armrest of his chair. His palm felt dry, smooth, and subtly different. It was a habit he didn’t notice anymore. Something he did when nervous, feeling the augmetic, sensing nanite nerves, testing it to see if it was different.

The bridge crew watched the feeds from inside the Sa’Ami dropship. Windows into a world of violence. Just before them, so close they could touch it, were snapshots and
clips: moments of terror, dodging moves, shuddering of impacts, and the finality of death. The infantry was making ground, but paying for it.