Edge of Solace (A Star Too Far) (21 page)

A good majority of the icons were bright green, but a handful showed red. The cameras on those feeds were motionless. One showed a hand curled on the ground. Another
feed showed a pile of Sa’Ami bodies scattered and torn from a grenade. A pair of UC suits lay still nearby as if waiting. Some cameras still moved, slowly, painfully, with medical alerts blaring. Some wounded stood and moved on, but most did not. The thin atmosphere took those that the nanite enhanced weapons did not.

“Updates?” William asked. He didn’t have to ask, but he felt the need to say something. “All systems clear,” Lebeau said. She looked up at him
. She still bore the wounds of her captivity.

“Scan is about thirty
percent, camera drones are doing a second sweep. Will we get a chance to inspect her?” Reed asked. His voice cracked with excitement.

William sighed. “Doubtful.”

They were collecting every piece of data they could. Camera drones were swarming and mapping the entire ship. What sensors they had were tuned to collect anything and everything.

“Ping coming in,” Lebeau said.

“
Scylla?
” William asked. He felt silly asking, who else would be calling a few AU on the way to nowhere.

Lebeau nodded.

“Put it on,” William said. He straightened himself and tried to look like he thought a Captain should: calm collected and cool. He felt odd.

A man with puffy brown cheeks and dark brown eyes appeared. He squinted a moment and nodded. “Captain Grace.”

“Captain Martinez, are you getting the feed?”

Martinez nodded. His eyes snapped to the
side. “Yes, are you prepared to depart?”

“I think that’s a bit early
, don’t you?”

Martinez shook his head. “My orders are to blow it up if it so much as sneezes. Si
, si, eh?”

William had been told that the
Scylla
would destroy the dropship regardless of his position. The
Malta
would survive. Any of her crew on board would not.

“Yes
, Captain, but I see no reason to yet.”

Martinez nodded and leaned back. The angle of the camera made it appear that he was looking down. “I will give you notice before I fire.”

“Thank you, Captain, we’ll keep you appraised.” William didn’t much like the man and he’d just met him.

Martinez cut the feed.

“Yamaguchi says the entry is clear, but the target is losing atmosphere. No one comes over without an EVA suit,” Lebeau said.

“Mr. Reed, send out the umbilical please.”

“With pleasure!” The slender Engineer stood.

“Mr. Reed, one of your staff please. I need you here,” William said.

The smile dropped off of Reed’s face and he sat back down. “Aye, Captain.”

William scanned all of his displays. All systems
were running clear. The air smelled normal. The soot stains were mostly gone. The feeds of the soldiers were hard to watch for more than a moment. The feeling of helplessness and voyeurism was overwhelming.

“I’ve got a hotspot
, Captain.” Reed leaned over his panel. “They, uh, I’m not sure they can even access the reactor, but it’s getting hotter.”

“Self
-destruct?” William’s fingers hovered on the comms key.

“
Too slow. But if they can’t get to it, they might be trying to overload it. The entire engineering section is rough.” Reed punched more keys. His hands danced over the display as he slid screens aside and accessed more data.

“How long?” William asked.

Reed sighed. “If it’s like ours,” he rubbed his upper lip nervously as the numbers unfolded before him, “an hour.”

“Very well.” William slapped the comms key. “LT, you’ve got twenty minutes.”

The comms clicked once, Yamaguchi grunted.

“Ms. Lebeau, tell the
Scylla
that we’ll be wrapped up in thirty minutes or so.” William queued up a nav plot and watched the course head in system.

One of the
display windows was a thermal display showing the heat rise in the midst of a mangled mess of alloy and wire.

“How confident are you of that number
, Reed?” William asked.

Reed looked down to the display and back up again. “Well, I’m not sure entirely.”

William returned his gaze to the screens. Judging from the infantry feeds, they’d need every second. “Sergeant Gruber, are your Marines in place?”

Comms clicked and broke in. “Yes
, Captain, I’ve got an EVA squad that will be going on the umbilical.”

“Carry on
, Sergeant.” William wanted the infantry to have a pleasant welcome back to the
Malta,
not a pack of Sa’Ami striders holding the exit.

Above them all the feeds continued on in silence as men fought and died.

*

“Move
, move!” Sergeant Gruber shouted.

The voice was louder than Abraham ever thought a voice could be. He stumbled and caught himself. His hands gripped either side of slender disc.

A pair of EVA suited maintenance techs stepped aside as he waddled into the airlock. The pair each took a side and steered it into place. Behind him two squads of Marines waited with an intense energy he had never seen.

One of the squads wore an almost skin
-tight EVA suit with armor layered over it. The second squad wore heavier armor and was setting up bolo launchers.

Abraham stood back and felt the push of people entering into the airlock.

“Hey jumbo. Get out,” a Marine in an EVA suit said.

Abraham looked around and realized they were talking to him. He pushed through the crowd and stepped back onto the ship. The doors closed.

“They’re setting up the umbilical, gotta do it with the outer door open,” Huron said with a smile. “You sure are itching to get out there—eh, kid?”

“Yes sir,” Abraham said.

“Once we get the time to make you a suit that fits,” Huron said. The Engineer peered out the view port. “Not much to it—snap and fit. Once they start coming back just help out. They should have salvage, gear, who knows. Except prisoners, let the Marines take ‘em.”

Abraham stepped closer and leaned down. The
Marines were out of sight. The Engineers had rotated and unfolded the disc, attaching it just outside the external airlock. The upper edge locked onto the boarding cable.

“How’s it get across?” Abraham asked.

Huron’s eyes lit up. “Watch!”

One of the maintenance techs attached a slender rod to the edge of the disc. It ambled outward and the disc unfolded like an accordion. After about ten meters it shot forward at a rapid pace, almost faster than could be seen.

“Oh my!” Abraham cried out.

Huron slapped him on the shoulder. “It’s something to see, no atmosphere out there, nothing to hold it back. Is good
, eh?”

Abraham found a smile growing on his face. “Yes, it is good.”

“Now here, strap this onto your back.” Huron handed an emergency air pack.

Abraham took it and strapped it onto his back. “How do I
—I”

“If we lose atmosphere it’ll deploy and you just grab the facepiece. It’ll do the rest,” Huron said as he tightened the straps. “If you do get blown out exhale, at least until the mask comes on.”

Abraham felt odd—the thought of a vacuum was a new thing to him. Just days before it was simply the sky, the stars that winked at night. The things God made early on. Now it was a concrete thing, or at least concrete enough to kill.

“Here they come.”

The inner hatch popped open and the two techs stepped in. The heavily armored Marines pushed the bolo launchers and boarding shields forward. Their faces were set.

Huron walked to the hatch and tilted his head. He cupped a hand against his ear. “They’re getting hell over there aren’t they?”

“Yes sir, it’s touch and go.”

“Ahh what I’d give to walk those halls with a maintenance drone. Quite the ship,” Huron said wistfully.

One of the Marines snorted.

“No imagination…” Huron said
, dropping the words off.

Loud booms echoed down the umbilical.

Abraham could feel the intensity rising. He wanted to ask what was happening, but could tell from the looks on the Marines’ faces that now wasn’t the time.

Two of the
Marines shook their heads and settled in tight to their weapons.

Abraham nodded. Now wasn’t the time.

*

The corridors were quiet except for the
echoing blasts. The entire path was strewn with wreckage of an almost dead dropship. One section was lit and bright while the next was nothing but shadow and bits of rubble.

Archie slowed to a fast shuffle. His legs burned and the pit inside him hadn’t had nearly enough water to fill it. The rasping of his tongue seemed to go down, though he wouldn’t want to have a conversation just yet.

He stopped and listened. A mechanical scratching hissed before him. The hallway ended at an intersection and a stairwell. He tucked himself into the shadows and watched.

A maintenance drone crawled out of the shadows and began heading from where he came. Part of the carapace was ripped open exposing glittering wires and a wet slick of hydraulic fluid. Archie thought it looked sad.

So far all of the fighting seemed to be happening on one side. He was thankful that he hadn’t run into anyone else. Though he knew that soon enough he’d run into the firefight. If he was lucky he’d get past it without testing out his spear.

He shuffled to the corner and looked down the corridor. It sloped gently down. A mass of sheared cables hung limply in mid air. The sounds
of gunfire rolled down the corridor. He recognized a path of cargo tracks on the floor. He was heading to the hold.

The next few meters
were a mix of low gravity, partial gravity, and full gravity. His feet would lift and then drop down again. The worst part was when his stomach would lurch in the oddly wavering gravity field. He floated a few more meters before the gravity returned. He tightened his grip on the pipe and patted the pistol. The hold was just before him.

Around the edge of the bulkhead was a mass of containers and empty racking. Racking, he noted, that wasn’t empty when he watched the Commandant fight. A few containers were split open
, gorging out gear and equipment. The ceiling was pocked with holes that were covered in yellow and orange vacuum patches.

No one was visible. He could hear the fighting, it was close. His knees shook slightly. He moved forward to the next piece of cover.
He couldn’t cover all the angles, not in his state.

G
unfire increased, followed by a single crackling boom. Mechanical footsteps were coming.

He hugged the container tight. Adrenaline flared. His eyes darted from one side to the next. The spear felt cool in his palm.

Then she was on him.

Captain Asa leapt down from the container above. Her power armor streaked black. A hydraulic line wept yellow fluid down her chest. The bulk of the suit rolled onto him. She turned and kicked a leg out to stop the motion and drove a hand down hard.

Archie was crushed against the container. The spear dropped from his grip. The shield was crumbled against a broken arm. He tried to push away, but found his right arm useless.

She didn’t speak. Her arms lashed forward and slung him away from the container. He rolled and screamed as he came to a halt. Her motion wasn’t the smooth glide like before but shaky.

Her armor wore slender puncture holes. She was scarred by shrapnel. Her face mask was shattered. Her eyes burned with hatred. Through the look of hate was a simple animal fear.

The pistol came back to him. He scrambled and drew it out in a smooth motion. It felt small in his hand
as he pulled the trigger.

She moved. Fast. The suit powered to the side, but it didn’t matter. The pistol didn’t do anything. The safety interlock prevented Archie from firing it.

He screamed with rage and tossed the pistol at her. It flipped end over end and clattered against her chest harmlessly.

Around him Sa’Ami suits moved and surged. He could sense it, hear it, pick up the motion. But he was focused on her eyes.

She stood and walked slowly. Her feet clacked with every step. The movements were graceful as if she found a purpose. She stood before him and looked down.

Archie wanted to say something sharp, something witty, something to knock her off balance. But all he could do was look up into her eyes. He’d not go quietly into the night.

She drew her own sidearm and pointed it at him. She cocked her head and raised the pistol slightly. The muzzle was squarely pointed at his face.

He took a single sharp breath.