The False Admiral (25 page)

“Two more.”

“Then we're in business. On three.” I released the crawler's manual brake and put my hands on the controls. “Three.”

The float pallet with the EMS unit came hurtling out of the flyer; she must have backed up all the way to the cockpit to get such a running start. It flew down the ramp and skimmed smoothly across the deck. Not quite in the right direction, but that wasn't important. Three xenos dropped down, their reflexes fast, but not fast enough, and I was right on top of them. I rolled over two, but the third went off after Salmagard more quickly than I was ready for.

“Behind you,” I warned, throttling up.

She twisted and shot it with a flare, but another clattered to the deck in front of the grav cart. Salmagard couldn't reload. All she could do was angle the cart away and put on some extra speed. I had caught up now, and I smashed into this newcomer, even as more landed.

The wide, open bay truly was the perfect place for irresponsible driving. Finally, something I was good at.

I wheeled the crawler around recklessly, and several xenos backed off, but some were still heading determinedly for Salmagard. I charged at them, and they scattered. That bought the private another few moments. By staying close to her, I made the creatures warier.

We were nearly to the hatch. With some threatening acceleration on my part, they held back long enough for her to get through.

I let out a long breath as I saw the doors close behind her, and sat back, watching the things mill around on the deck. I wondered how they were getting into the bay, but there wasn't anything I could do about that.

“Private, you all right?”

“Yes, Admiral.”

Well, that was something. I rubbed at my eyes, then put my hands back on the controls. I couldn't let the xenos get too comfortable, not while we still had work to do in here.

I went after the ones still on the ground, and they were learning to get out of the way before I ran them down. I chased them back up the walls.

From the crushed and mangled carcasses strewn about, I knew I'd substantially reduced their numbers, but there were still so many.

I got up from the controls and went into the passenger section of the survey crawler. I found a small handheld launcher, and plenty of flares. I tucked them into my pouch. It wasn't the ideal weapon, but it was something. Salmagard was good at improvising with these things, but for my part, I hoped not to use it. The survey crawler itself was still the best piece on the board.

I went back up and checked the screens. I had xenos on the ceiling and walls. This wasn't going to work.

Last time's plan wouldn't fly. There were too many, and they were adapting to my tactics too quickly. Salmagard, for all her competence, wouldn't last ten seconds in this bay outside a vehicle. But we still needed one more unit. How would we get it out of here?

“Deilani,” I said into the com. “Give the private a stim whether she wants one or not.”

I'd just have to think of something.

“PRIVATE, we're going to have to do this a little differently.”

“Agreed, Admiral. The third unit is secure.”

“How's Nils?”

“Still awake.”

I grimaced. “Where are you?”

“Just outside the door, sir.”

“Here's the plan: I'm going to give you a lift to the last flyer.”

“I'll just jump on your vehicle then, sir?”

“Right. I'll let you off at the flyer, and try to cover you while you get the ramp down. Once you're in there, raise it. Can you handle it?”

“I like a challenge, Admiral.”

No hesitation at all.

“Then I'm coming for you now. Raise the pressure door on my go. How's Deilani holding up?”

“I think she's come a bit unhinged, sir.”

Who could blame her?

“All right, get in here.” I slowed the crawler, but didn't stop. It was slow enough already. Rolling over so many xenos had taken a toll on the wheels and underside of the vehicle; by now they were heavily damaged, and probably weakening by the minute. Nothing seemed to be immune to the corrosive effect these things had on plastic and metal.

The door shot up, and the white figure of Salmagard darted into the open. Xenos started to drop.

“I'm on!”

I accelerated toward the flyers, narrowly missing a row of skiffs.

I couldn't see Salmagard at all; I had to take her at her word that she was aboard. I braked hard at the flyer, and saw her drop away on my screen, hitting the deck and rolling into a sprint.

I put the crawler in reverse and backed over the smaller xenos out in front, then charged straight ahead at the ones dropping on and around the flyer. I smashed the one nearest to Salmagard, popped the hatch, and leaned out with my flare launcher to fire at one that wanted to rush her down.

The ramp was halfway lowered; Salmagard jumped, caught the lip, and hauled herself inside. A moment later it started to rise again. None of them managed to slip in, though one nearly lost a leg. That just left me. I ducked back inside the crawler and sealed the hatch yet again.

“All right in there?”

“Quite snug, sir. How do I get out?”

“You don't. You're going to taxi back to the door and unload there. I know you're not a pilot,” I said before she could protest.
“But you don't need to be one to point that thing and make it go. Here's what you need to do. More or less.” I explained it to her while watching the xenos swarm over the flyer. It didn't seem to occur to them to try to break in.

“And that means it's powered up?” Salmagard was more confident in her ability to fight than to pilot.

“Yes. You have to release the binders next.”

“There's something wrong; I've got all these warning messages,” she fretted.

“That's because there's xenos crawling on the wings. Don't mind them. Just bring it around.”

I watched the flyer begin to inch forward, then turn. It crunched into the flyer beside it, smashing several xenos. “Oh dear,” Salmagard said.

“Ignore it. You need it to take you about a hundred meters; it doesn't matter what kind of shape it's in when you get there. I won't tell anybody.”

“Yes, Admiral.” The flyer was moving along now, and the xenos suddenly seemed very keen to get off. I didn't blame them; the grace that characterized Salmagard's body did not extend to the flyer. She rolled right over the row of skiffs that I'd avoided earlier. Machinery was crushed, and metal and polymer were sent flying. Oil and coolant spilled across the deck. Well, it was all Commonwealth property anyway.

It occurred to me that I'd better follow, but the crawler didn't respond when I tried to accelerate. I looked at the plentiful emergency lights and blinking warnings on my readouts. This technology was meant for exploring harsh new worlds; it was supposed to be tough. I didn't have any sympathy for it. I pushed the throttle
forward, and there were only sounds of mechanical agony. Metal screeched.

The corrosion had done its work. I wasn't surprised, but the timing wasn't ideal. I was stranded in the middle of the bay, and the locals were getting curious.

Salmagard had reached the far end, and was maneuvering to shorten the trip from the ramp to the door.

The xenos were teeming on the walls.

“Private?”

“Yes, Admiral?”

“I'm a little stuck out here. Can you give me a lift?”

“Yes, sir. On my way.”

The flyer awkwardly changed direction, beginning to roll toward me. I didn't realize what she had in mind until she was only meters away. I grabbed for the straps, knew there wasn't time, and just braced myself against the console. It was only a bump, but it felt as if I'd just been hit with heavy weapons fire. My head swam and pounded. My arms burned, but I held on anyway.

Salmagard pushed me with the nose of the flyer, the ruined underside of my crawler grinding across the deck, leaving deep gouges in the metal.

“Thank you, Private,” I said, jaw set as the crawler shook madly around me.

“Not at all, Admiral.”

She pushed my crawler up against the bulkhead, then maneuvered the flyer around a second time, and came to a halt. Already the xenos were closing in. Now that we'd been stationary for a few moments, I saw a couple of them drop to the roof of the flyer.

“What now, Admiral?”

“I'm working on it.” She was counting on me to get her out of this. Our strict timetable was at the front of my mind. Fire seemed to be our go-to weapon, and I didn't have a problem with that. Fire was easy to come by. We needed something flammable. What was flammable? What was flammable and could be found in quantity
here
?

“End of the line,” I said, hoping I was thinking straight. “We fight our way out. Find the biggest oxygen tank on that craft, probably the one used to refill the pressure suits. Detach it. Lower the ramp, bleed it, and throw it out. I'll light it with a flare. That might push them back, at least for a second. You take off, and I'll draw fire. Got it?”

“Yes, Admiral.” Salmagard didn't sound entirely convinced, but she didn't have a better plan offhand, and we didn't have time to think of one. I broke open the flare launcher and loaded it, then got it ready and put my hand on the hatch release. Several moments went by, and I pictured Salmagard in the flyer, wrestling with a big O
2
tank.

“Ready, Admiral?” She sounded breathless.

“Whenever you are, Private.”

I waited. The ramp started to lower, and the xenos became noticeably agitated. A tank nearly the size of an EMS unit went banging down to the deck, venting visibly.

I threw open the hatch and straightened, taking aim. My hands shook, but it was an easy shot.

The tank went up with a modest fireball. The blast rattled my bones, and the heat and shock wave washed over me. I saw stars.

Shaking my head, I saw that it had worked better than I'd hoped. Salmagard was already down the ramp and on the move, nearly halfway to the doors. I clambered down, blinking away the streaks and lights, and fumbling another flare into the launcher.
The xenos were recovering, but not fast enough to catch me, and certainly not fast enough to stop Salmagard.

I made it through the hatch and sealed it. A black leg as big around as the flyer's landing strut punched through, tearing the metal as if it was sheet plastic—but it pulled back.

Salmagard was already pushing the last EMS unit into the lift. I got in and sagged against the wall. She looked at me and blanched. Did I look that bad? I was sweating even more than the situation warranted, and my EV suit wasn't sure what to do about it. It was giving me med pings, telling me to seek attention immediately. I muted them, feeling cold.

Salmagard, on the other hand, looked great. She was red-faced and sweaty, but her expression was triumphant.

“This is number four, right?” I gasped.

“Yes, Admiral.”

Then it didn't matter. We were almost done.

*   *   *

The interior of the satellite had been transformed. Now there were three EMS units standing in it, along with a mess of cords and equipment, most of which I realized had been removed from the walls of the satellite itself. Several panels were missing, and a lot of things looked broken. All we needed was for the thing to keep the units powered up, and to send our SOS. The satellite's normal functions didn't matter, and I was confident Nils wouldn't order Deilani to break anything too important.

Nils himself looked terrible. His skin was gray, and his eyes were sunken and unfocused. Deilani looked ragged too.
Evagardians weren't supposed to be seen in this state. We weren't even supposed to
be
in this state. But as much as the Empire would like people to forget, imperials were still just people.

“Do we have power?” I asked, stepping aside so Salmagard could move the final unit into position. There was barely any space left. This was going to be a tight fit.

“Yes.”

“And the beacon?”

“Functional,” Deilani said. She sounded breathless.

“What about the launch?”

“We've got it figured out,” Deilani said, but I could tell there was bad news coming. “But we've got problems.”

“What kind?”

“The rocket needs fuel.”

“Rocket?”

She shrugged. “Ganraens. They're still burning chemicals to propel the unit up. It's a highly concentrated fuel, so we only need a few liters of it. Not too different from 14-14.”

“I take it there's some aboard?”

“Yes.”

“What else?”

“We didn't stop to think.” She gave me an odd, slightly disturbing smile, and pointed up. “We're completely buried. We need to clear the launch hatch.”

I took that in. After a moment, I sat down and rubbed my face. A part of me had been thinking I might get out of that bay alive, come up here and go into stasis, and my problems would be over. At least until I woke up.

At least then I'd be rested—well, not exactly. I would come out of stasis feeling exactly the way I felt the moment I went in. That was the point.

But still. It would've been sort of like a break.

My eyes were sandy, and they stung. I couldn't think straight. I couldn't even breathe properly. I didn't want to move. It had taken everything I had just to stay on my feet long enough to close out the business in the hangar bay.

Those were my limits. This was beyond them. Every part of me hurt.

“How much time have we— Wait. Never mind,” I said, seeing Deilani's expression. She knew exactly how much time we had, and I didn't want to. “All right—all right, then we have to get on it. Where's the fuel?”

“A couple decks down.”

“Great.”

“It's sealed off; that part of the ship is depressurized.”

“Of course it is. What about the silo? How do we clear it?” Muscles in my neck and back twitched painfully.

“It'll have to be with explosives, won't it?” Deilani shrugged. “There's no time for anything else.” I looked to Nils for confirmation, and he nodded weakly.

“Explosives, explosives. Feels like all we ever do is blow things up. Not very Evagardian.”

“Or extremely Evagardian, depending on your perspective,” Deilani said. I was amazed she had the energy to get cute, but it was probably a good thing.

“We'll think of an elegant strategy next time.” I continued to
rub at my eyes, though it wasn't helping. “You two get the fuel. I'll clear the silo.”

“We should stick together,” Deilani countered. “You won't stand a chance out there by yourself.”

“There's no time. But I'll need your help. I'll need you to open the big doors in the vehicle bay for me.”

“What for?”

“So I can get outside. I'll get some seismic charges from one of the survey vehicles. Where do I blast?”

“If we knock out some of the rock under the grav drive chassis, most of the stuff covering us should just slide off the hull.” Nils handed Deilani the terminal, and she showed me. “This thing.” It was the odd rock formation we'd noted earlier. Well, it was hard to miss.

“Got it. Here, you guys should take some flares.” I handed over my pouch. “We know there are plenty of these locals still running around the ship, and there's bound to be more where there's no atmosphere.”

Salmagard opened my pouch. “You'll need some too, sir.” She gave me a concerned look. She didn't like the idea of me going anywhere alone, and I couldn't blame her.

“Leave me a few.”

“Pink or blue?”