Free Fleet #03 No Rest for the Wicked (5 page)

Chapter Best Laid Plans

There were close to three hundred thousand mechas scrambling over Parnmal.

“Looks like they did at least have some pre-planning,” Henry said.

“Wish they hadn't,” Bok Soo grunted.

The conditions on those ships must've sucked but they knew they'd need an overwhelming force to take Parnmal. If they'd landed with their entire force...

Henry stroked the beard he'd been growing with feeling. His inner Irish had come to the fore because his beard was distinctly red. The regs on facial hair had become lax, Henry let his beard grow out, finally. He was one of the few that could. Facial hair was still one thing that reflected a person’s real age, despite the drugs and supplements the syndicate had filled them with.

“Alright, red beard. I'm off to make sure my boys and girls are in position,” Bok Soo said tapping Henry's shoulder. Henry's beard twitched in amusement as his eyes sparkling.

“Alright there, Fu Man Chu,” he said, referring to Bok Soo's wispy attempt at facial hair.

“Takes time, damnit!” Bok Soo said defensively as they both laughed.

Henry clapped Bok Soo on the shoulder.

“See you after,” he said as Bok Soo nodded.

“I'll buy the first round,” he grinned as Henry looked skeptical.

“Oh really now?” Henry smiled as they walked out of the armory closest to the largest concentration of Syndicate troops.

“What? Is it so strange that I'd be offering to get drinks?”

“I know how hard it is to get food from you!” Henry said as Bok Soo grinned.

“Well, that's a different story.”

Henry shook his head in response.

“I'm going to hold you to that beer Bok Soo,”

“Wouldn't doubt it. You Irish were always a bit obsessed with it!”

Henry laughed as he and Bok Soo separated. He was still chuckling as he swung his helmet shut and sealed it. It was a short walk to his people and he checked that his weapons were ready as he got to Santos who was waiting for him.

“Henry,” the man said by way of greeting.

“Santos.”

“We have an axe around here somewhere,” he said, his face completely straight as Henry grinned, pulling his newly made weapon from his back.

“I was only joking,” Santos laughed as he looked at the plasmid battle axe Henry had had made.

“Always wanted one,” Henry said as he offered it to Santos who looked it over.

“Ah, just channelling your inner lumber jack,”

Henry growled good-naturedly as Santos handed the battle axe back.

“How are you looking?”

“We're sealed up tight. I made sure everyone knows their fall back positions and such. It might be our first real defensive action but we'll make them pay for every step,”

“Good,” Henry said, now serious. They were going to need to inflict some serious casualties. There was twenty five thousand commandos on Parnmal and five thousand personnel of varying responsibilities, not including the syndicate prisoners of course. Ten to one. God.

“I'm going to-”

“Breech!” Amarr, one of Bok Soo's two company commanders said. The alert automatically cutting into Henry’s HUD as his map updated.

“Looks like it's just begun,” he said to Santos, who conversed with his two company commanders before looking to Henry. His eyes seeming to say,
I hate not being on the front lines.

“Don't worry. The front lines will come to us soon enough,” Henry said mordantly as another real airlock was opened and Mecha's started flooding into Parnmal.

***

I wonder if this is what Jorsht felt like when we rushed into Parnmal,
I thought as I sat in my command chair. Everyone had changed over to their secondary roles.

“We have break-ins across section Blue,” Wast reported as the plot changed to the internal map of Parnmal. Our people were greeted with booby traps, bottle necks and fixed cannons and machine guns. I looked over with a cool gaze as bodies were stacked like proverbial cordwood as rounds smashed into the oncoming Syndicate forces.

Grenades went off as the incoming forces tried to hit the cannons. Other removed their helmets so they could finally talk. Yet it did little to assert authority as the gunners quickly picked out leaders. Grenades hit cannons as members of the syndicate mecha force got their beachhead and moved into the station.

“Section blue, four one, prepare to vent atmo and drop gravity,” I said.

“Ready commander,” Monk said, running the internal weapons systems.

I waited as the syndicate forces reached an overlaid line.

“Now. Blue three eight, two one and one five,” I said, moving past the first one as the other halls were filling quickly.

The corridor labelled blue one four was mayhem as gravity disappeared, a bulkhead dropped from the roof and atmosphere was drained in a matter of seconds. Anyone that had pulled their visor up to issue orders, or to understand what was going on was killed except for a quick few.

“Now,” I said moments later as the remaining corridors with Syndicate mechas in were given the same treatment.

“Begin increasing gravity in our areas. Ramp up in the areas already breached immediately,”

You trained us in high gravity, let’s see if you trained your own troops that way.

“I will be joining the Commandos in battle. Call either me or Commander Monk if you need assistance. Until then, Brova you're in charge,” I nodded to Monk's second-in-command.

I checked my rifle and walked towards the doors.

“Commander,” Krom hissed, a glance to my protection detail showed that they all disapproved of my actions.

“I am the commander of the Free Fleet. I will not wait on the damned Bridge watching the fate of my people. I started this damned thing in a mecha. I'll be damned if I don't fight in it alongside the men and women that follow me,” I growled, checking the rest of my kit as I went to the last position I saw Henry.

***

Sergeant Falesh had tried two more airlocks before he'd found one that actually led into Parnmal. Cannons killed the squad he was with as they rushed headlong down the corridor. He stayed in the airlock, throwing grenades as the internal doors closed, filling once again from the outside.

“Get out! There's cannons in the corridor!” he yelled as those that didn't have their communications online pushed against those that did and could hear, or see the cannon bearing down on them.

It fired, shredding those in it's sights.

“Get grenades ready,” he said prepping his own. The inner airlock doors opened as he whipped his grenade down the corridor. A few others did the same as other people charged the cannons panic, fear or a sense of idiotic duty pushing them.

The Cannon's fire cut them down before there was a muted
Thurcrank
as a grenade found it's mark.

Falesh checked the corridor again before getting out of the airlock.

“Clear here, moving up,” he said as another squad came in, filling the room quickly. Falesh saw people popping their helmets.

“Hard reset your comms,” he barked as he continued on with the half squad down the corridor. He got to a T-intersection where a beader cannon that had cut down his men smoked at chest height behind an armoured slit.

“Assholes,” he spat, seeing the beader was set up to be operated remotely There was a loud noise behind him and he whipped around to find a bulkhead locking his people into the corridor they'd just gotten through. He had three people with him but there was closer to fifty in that hallway.

One of them grabbed a breeching charge.

“Stop! You blow it and you'll kill our people!” Falesh barked. The one with the Breaching charge made to say something as the beader opened up.

Falesh didn't think but threw himself at the only doorway he saw in the corridor, he crashed through it, finding himself in some remote control room.

He heard an explosion behind him as it seemed the breacher had got off his charge.

Falesh winced as he looked out of the doorway. The beader was now firing at the stunned Syndicate troops that had just faced a breaching charge right on.

Falesh looked around the room, seeing another door out from the centre.

The Syndicate troops got their act together somewhat, grenades exploded as they used that cover to move up, a few of them piling into Falesh's room.

“Get up you three, we're going to push down this hall here and see if we can't get behind that damned beader,” Falesh indicated the other doorway leading from the room.

“Good?”

He got nods and signs of agreement, nodding himself before turning and going down the corridor, his weapon up and ready for whatever showed it's face.

This place is a death trap,
he thought as he reached the end of the corridor, a cannon letting a burst go down the corridor.

There was a loud noise and a rush of air leaving as Falesh and his group were pulled down the corridor towards the room they had come from. It subsided quickly no atmosphere and no gravity readings showing on Falesh's HUD.

“You stay here and try and get a grenade on that damned gun.” He yelled over the local channel, getting a few nods as he jogged back to the command centre. He walked in as a syndicate trooper stumbled into the room.

“What happened, private?” he asked moving past the troopers now holing up in the command centre.

“They turned off the gravity and pulled the atmo out. The officers couldn't pull their helmets down before they ran out of air.”

A new sound came from the corridor, different, some how havier and faster than the beader cannon. Falesh tilted in the doorway to see.

It's like the PDS system,
Falesh realized as rounds passed through the first runners, exploding into shards and ripping into those behind them. The wounded and dying slowed those that were still alive. Falesh grabbed grenades off a fallen syndicate mecha, looking to those in the room his three had grown to twelve.

“You,” he singled out one of them, “You’re our grenade thrower,”

“But..,” Falesh put his face plate in the corporal's.

“What was that?” he growled, his voice deadly as the Corporal looked away.

“Nothing sir,” he said as Falesh grunted, shoving the extra grenades he'd found into his arms.

The thrower looked out into the hallway guessing the distances before he began throwing the grenades. It took eight grenades and Falesh didn't know how many dead to silence the weapon system.

“Give your grenades to him,” Falesh said and the mecha's obeyed. “Good. Now you lot are with me,” he said, checking the corridor.

“Why should we?” one asked.

“Want to stay alive to see the reward for this puppy?” Falesh said, but he didn't get a reply.
Didn't think so. No one’s in the Syndicate for anything but the money.

Suddenly everything got much heavier and everyone sunk to the ground.

“Shit, they upped the gravity,” someone said and Falesh found his entire body fighting him as he struggled to stand.

Why would any syndicate force want to fight in heavier gravity?
He thought as he remembered one of the commandos on Kelu's ship saying how the Captain didn't think that they were syndicate forces. He forced himself vertical with a few concentrated breaths.

“The further we get the less gravity we'll feel,” he said as those in the room with him also got to their feet. For now Flaesh just had to make sure he survived; his role as company sergeant could wait.

“You, run to the next room,” he said, pointing to the ones that had gotten up the most quickly. They didn't say anything but Falesh could see through their faceplates that they weren't happy as they left the safety of the room, walking awkwardly before getting up to a light jog. Running was impossible for them.

The same went for him as Falesh's turn came and he was barely able to jog in the increased gravity.

***

“This is what I'm talking about!” Bok Soo said, thumping Amarr on the arm, who shook his head at his rambunctious commander.

“Someone might think that you like the extra gravity,” Amarr said as Bok Soo grinned.

“I love it as much as those Syndicate wimps must hate it,” he said, looking to his armband as an alert went off.

“They're getting to line three. It's time we ended this. Dreckt, you ready?” he asked the spec ops commander, who he'd made his other company commander in light of Rosa's venture into the dark. With the influx of the newly minted commandos, he was also a reassuring older hand. His other trainer spec ops brothers made up the reserve, along with veterans and the best of the trainees. The third line were larger rooms that interconnected in multiple ways to one another. They usually had transport cars to move materials across the station, but the rails they ran on had been blocked off and removed.