Текст книги " Lethal Heritage "
Автор книги: Michael A. Stackpole
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Текущая страница: 24 (всего у книги 27 страниц)
40
Nadir Jump Point, Radstadt
Radstadt Province , Free Rasalhague Republic
31 October 3050
The horn mounted in the wall just above her berth on the Ravenblasted out a call to battle stations just after the last wave of nausea from the jump passed over Tyra Miraborg. What in hell could it be? We've been leapfrogging our way between uninhabited stars for two months now. There's no way they could have tracked us or anticipated our arrival at Radstadt! If some idiot decided we're due a drill, I'll have his head!
She jerked to her feet, then leaned heavily against the cabin bulkhead as her head swam. She swallowed hard and fought to clear her head. The second the vertigo began to fade, she pulled open the door to her clothes locker and stepped into her scarlet flightsuit. While zipping up the front of the garment and fastening the velcro tighteners on her wrist, she slipped into flight boots that snapped shut around her calves. She grabbed her gloves with one hand, and stepping into the corridor, pulled the door to her cabin shut behind her.
All the other pilots in the Drakøns raced toward the aft launch bays on the VengeanceClass DropShip. Tyra, seeing a bottleneck near the lift to the upper two launch decks, headed up a service ladder. One level up, she swung off it and tumbled to the deck as the Ravendetached itself from the JumpShip that had brought it to this battlefield. The DropShip's engines sent a tremor through the hull and filled the ship with a low growl.
Tyra scrambled to her feet and dashed over to where her Shilonewaited in the launch bay. She hauled herself up into the cockpit, pulled on her neurohelmet, and snapped the cable coming from it into a socket by her left shoulder. As she struggled to pull on her safety straps and fasten them across her chest, the sounds of a mission debriefing already underway came over her helmet .speakers.
"We have four, repeat, four invader JumpShips already insystem. One is the size of their planetbusters. The other three are smaller ships. The big one must be their flagship. That is priority target for the fleet ..."
Great, just great.We don't get to fight them on Rasalhague when we're all in top shape. We wait to engage the enemy until two months of hiding in space has frazzled everyone.Even as Tyra's anger began to flare, she struggled to curb and channel it. No, this is not the time to get so mad you can't see. You've got your wingmate and your flight to worry about, and you've got some damage to do to that flagship. Act now and complain later.
She punched a button on her console and flash-started the engine. The cockpit canopy slid down into place. At her right hand, a number pad's keys lit up. Because a flash-start did not allow for the computer to cycle through the full series of recognition signs and countersigns to ensure that the pilot was assigned to this particular craft, Tyra had to type in an eight-digit number code she herself had chosen to safeguard her machine. Zero-four, two-eight, three-zero threesix; the day my father lost the use of his legs. It's a date I'll never forget, yet no one else would ever expect me to use it as my code.
In response to the numbers, the engines throttled up to full power and the weapons computer came on line. It filled the cockpit with a holographic display of the battlefield outside and painted the targeting sight over her right eye on the faceplate of her helmet. The trigger handles rotated up and locked in position, and her auxiliary monitor reported all weapons loaded, armed, and ready,
Tyra opened a frequency to launch control. "Valkyrie One ready for launch. Request go!"
"Go granted."
She punched both feet down on the thruster pedals. The Shilonelunged forward, then sped down the launch alley. The metallic walls became a solid silver blur as the square black hole at the end of the runway grew like a mouth intending to swallow her ship. As her velocity indicator climbed past 700 kph, her ship shot free of the Raven.
The sight of so many JumpShips, DropShips, and AeroSpace Fighters in one place threatened to overwhelm Tyra's senses. This is the Gbtterdammerung! So many people, so many war machines, so much death. I've waited a long time for this, for a chance to avenge Phelan and prove myself to my father. Beware, invaders, you are mine now.
Tyra suddenly realized that the enemy had not launched their fighters. Only the largest ship seemed to have launch bays, though their presence could not be utterly discounted on the other ships. Fighters are going to be most vulnerable as they leave the launch bays. If I can get in close, I can do some serious damage.
Before she could put her thoughts into action, Anika Janssen's Shiloneappeared on Tyra's starboard wing. "The biggest target is bound to be the easiest to hit, eh, boss?"
"Right, Nik. Stay close. If either of us is hit, we break off, right?"
"Roger."
Tyra spiraled her Shilonedown away from the Ravenand kicked it into a long dive toward the invaders' flagship. Without gravity to aid it, the fighter picked up no speed as it streaked toward the massive JumpShip, and because of the battlefield's proximity to the orange-yellow star at the center of the solar system, Tyra had to increase power to maintain her speed. Anika's ship lagged behind by a few hundred meters, but slowly caught up to reach Tyra's side when they engaged the first flight of fighters from the flagship.
"Nik, fire once, then punch it. We'll burst by them, drop an SRM volley, and leave them to the others." Tyra flipped her radio to a broader tactical channel. "Valkyrie One, here. We need some assist in sector Alpha Xray Two Four. Enemy fighters, two by two."
"Roger, Valkyrie One. Fenir Three and Four on our way."
"And Aesir One and Two as well, Valkyrie One. Save us something."
"Roger." Tyra launched a full volley of long-range missiles, then brought the Shilone'snose up to carry the ship above the LRM's line of attack. The missiles shot down at the nearest of the invader aerofighters, spattering the boxy craft over its nose and right wing. Tyra stared at the icon representing that fighter on her holographic display, then tightened her fingers on the trigger buttons. The large laser shot from the Shilone'snose and burned a furrow through the armor on the invader's aft turret while the ruby beams from the wing-mounted medium lasers did more damage to the craft's nose and right wing.
The invader's return fire shot wide and low, leaving Tyra's ship intact. She sensed that her enemy was an inexperienced pilot and an easy kill, but she stayed with her original plan. All the fighter kills I get will mean nothing if we can't take out that big ship.She stomped on the foot pedals and cranked the Shilone'sspeed up to 1800 kph. Depressing the thumb button on the left joystick dropped a flight of SRMs to discourage pursuit as she dove hard on the flagship.
All around her, DropShips that had detached themselves from their JumpShips likewise shot toward the invaders' fleet. Outside the grip of planetary gravity and free of a buffeting atmosphere, those ungainly, bulbous craft became lethal weapons-platforms. Bristling with missile launchers and laser muzzles, the DropShips rode argent ion flames down toward the invaders' fleet. In more than one case, the ship's captain had opened the 'Mech bay doors, allowing BattleMechs to stand in the opening to add their token firepower to the ship's weapons rather than remain helpless inside their cocoons.
As her Shiloneswept in on the largest invader ship, Tyra realized why it had been described as a planetbuster. Dozens of DropShips studded the wasplike ship like metallic warts rising from its glossy black flesh. They had docked with their jets pointing toward the interior of the ship, which meant all of their weaponry could be brought to bear on the attackers. In addition, the JumpShip itself boasted numerous gunnery turrets and missile launchers. From various ports on the DropShips and the JumpShip, Clan BattleMechs crawled out and clung to the hull, hoping for a shot at a fighter that strayed too close.
Tyra angled thrust deflectors to take her in a long loop toward the JumpShip's bow. With Anika on her tail, she stood the Shiloneon its right wing and dove down toward the hull. She launched a volley of LRMs that spattered themselves against the bridge's closed blast shields, then hugged the artificial landscape and began a long strafing run down the ship's spine.
Almost instantly, she recognized a flaw in the ship's design. A narrow valley ran down between the two parts of the hull that had been built up for DropShip docking. By taking her aerofighter to the deck, she flew low enough that the DropShips could not target her craft for fear of doing damage to the JumpShip itself. The valley, while not wide on a planetary scale, provided her just enough room for maneuvers that made hitting her ship very difficult. In her first run, Tyra knocked out two PPC turrets, and toward the end, she bobbed up out of the valley to pepper the hull of a DropShip with a flight of LRMs.
Her ship sped past the JumpShip. Dammit, no solar sail to waste. That would keep them here for a long time.She checked her display and saw Anika had likewise survived the trip down the JumpShip's back. "Split-S, Nik, and we make another run."
"Roger, I'll go right. And this time," her friend demanded, "I go first."
"Lead on, Nik. I'm right behind you." Tyra vectored thrust to the right, carrying her fighter high and to the left. She brought the right wing up, executing a quick turn, then dove down to the spine level on the JumpShip, following Anika's Shilonein on the run. They both resisted the temptation to send a flight of missiles up into the JumpShip's exhaust ports because they knew the ion thrust would vaporize the warheads before they could do any damage.
"I'm getting a reading up front, Tyra. No more turrets. We took them out. Must be a mudbug crawled down here to stop us." A trace of anxiety seeped into Anika's voice. "No, dammit, it's two of them! Going in high, you cut them off at the knees!"
Anika's aerofighter pulled up, and Tyra saw laser beams lance down from her comrade's fighter. Cerulean bolts of PPC lightning shot back up from the target, carving armor from Anika's nose and left wing. Her ship drifted upward and out of sight as Tyra's Shiloneswooped like a hawk over the BattleMechs anchored to the hull against the JumpShip's thrust.
The LRM flight she used to announce her arrival badly battered one of the two 'Mechs. The explosions knocked the war machine from its broad, flat feet and bounced it off the solid valley wall. Arms and legs flailing, the 'Mech rebounded from the crushed wall and careened off into space. Something exploded on one of its shoulders, the blue sparks playing hob all over its flesh as it, too, drifted up and out of Tyra's sight.
The second 'Mech stood its ground. Her computer informed her that the BattleMech had already taken damage from Anika's run, but somehow that did not matter to her. I don't care what you have or what condition you're in, you're mine. For Nik and for Phelan and for all the Drakøns who died on Rasalhague.Without conscious effort, she stared hard directly at the center of the 'Mech's broad humanoid chest. Ignoring the PPC fire just over her head, she let the 'Mech have everything her fighter could offer.
The trio of lasers focused dead-center on the BattleMech's chest. The glowing hole they opened spat out hot shards of armor and internal structures. The 'Mech's heat silhouette flared like a supernova. An internal detonation plumped the lean torso out into that of an old man, then the armor buckled as golden claws of fire sliced their way through its middle. As the upper half of the 'Mech evaporated in the fire from its fusion engine, its legs flew out to careen back and forth within the valley's narrow confines.
Tyra pulled up to avoid the fireball and ran head-on into a flight of SRMs from a nearby DropShip. The missiles exploded against her cockpit, and the flash momentarily blinded her. The jolt shook her as much as the explosions had shaken her ship, but she forced herself to ignore it until she could regain control of her fighter. Kicking in the afterburners, she whirled the craft into a long spiral that took it away toward the JumpShip's bow. "Tyra! Tyra!"
The urgency of Anika's shout shocked Tyra out of a fog. My God, zoning out like that in a battle ... I must be hit bad.She recognized a tightness around her right elbow and across her chest, but it took a moment or two for her to realize that it came from her vacuum suit's attempt to localize a breach. The wail of warning sirens suddenly impinged on her brain, and as she brought the primary monitor into focus, she realized her cockpit had been breached. She brought her left hand up to her right shoulder, where it encountered something very hard and came away bloody.
"Tyra, talk to me!"
"I'm here, Nik. How are you?"
"Circuit overload from the PPCs shut my engine down. I'm not having any luck restarting. I'll take it all the way off, then do a full restart. That's not important. How are you ?"
"I'm hit, Nik. It's pretty bad." Tyra choked down the lump in her throat. "I love you, you know. I'm glad you can't follow me."
"No, Tyra. Don't do anything stupid. Get your ship over here. I can help you."
"Too late for that, Nik. If you see my father, tell him I made him proud." Tyra cut off her radio and boosted the Shiloneforward. She flipped off two safety switches. One cut the warning klaxons and the other removed all restraints on engine power. These ships have more power than a human pilot can normally take. At full power, a pilot will black out, but that doesn't really matter now, does it?
She laughed aloud and liked the sound. I've not laughed like that or felt this carefree since Phelan left Gunzburg. How fitting. I'll be with him soon enough.
Bringing the Shilone'snose down, she let the ship flip over onto its head, then she rolled it over so she could watch the JumpShip's bridge loom ever larger in her viewscreen. This is it. The Iron Jarl makes another sacrifice for Rasalhague.Pushing both overthruster pedals to the cockpit floor with her feet, she flew faster than any human ever and kept the Shilonedead on target.
41
JumpShip Dire Wolf , Nadir Jump Point, Radstadt
Radstadt Province , Free Rasalhague Republic
31 October 3050
Phelan Kell and the Precentor Martial raced down the corridor toward the Dire Wolfsbridge. Hot on the heels of their escort, they had to use a service ladder to get down from the observation deck, forcing them to head away from the bridge before they could reach it.
As they sprinted down the last thirty meters to the bridge, the whole JumpShip lurched as though struck by some godling's hammer. Phelan stumbled forward, but tucked himself into a roll to absorb the energy. His guide slammed into a corridor wall and smacked his head hard. He slipped to the deck and the Precentor Martial slid nose-up into him.
Jesus Christ, what was that?Phelan shook himself as he unfolded his body and braced for a second impact or subsidiary explosion. He glanced over at the Precentor Martial. "You all right?"
Focht reseated his eye-patch and nodded. "Yes, but our guide isn't. What happened?"
Phelan shrugged as he crawled back to the man's unconscious form. He plucked the radio from his belt and flicked it on. "Damage control, get a team up here to the bridge. We have a problem. And get a medical team up here, too."
"Who is this? Are you calling from the bridge?" Unbridled terror made the words crackle from the radio.
"No. I'm in the corridor outside the bridge. Something exploded in there or hit it."
The repair Tech's oath shouted from the radio. "Freebirth! Something opened a hole in the hull. The automatic systems are sealing it, but we have atmosphere loss. Team's on the way. Medical, too."
The mercenary looked up at the Precentor Martial and shook his head. "If you have atmosphere loss, bring up EVA suits and extra oxygen gear."
The Damage Control Officer's voice calmed considerably. "Confirmed, Commander. On the way."
Focht smiled warily. "Commander. That's quite a promotion."
The Kell Hound ignored the irony and concentrated on the greater significance of his promotion. "Damn, most of the Dire Wolfssenior officers were on the bridge. These Clansmen don't take well to surprises and they're always looking for orders from the folks above them. That's why this clown calls me a Commander—because I was giving him orders." He looked up at the one-eyed ComStar man. "Who's going to be giving orders to the folks who are supposed to keep us in one piece?"
Before Focht could answer, the Damage Control Team arrived. Phelan thrust the radio into the Precentor Martial's hands. "See if you can raise Ranna on this thing. Tell her we need to know who's in charge, and if she can't come up with a good answer, tell her she's it." He hesitated. "That is, unless you want the job."
Focht smiled warily. "I think, Phelan Kell, you have assumed that position already."
The mercenary laughed harshly. "Fine. Then consider this delegation of authority. See what can be done."
Phelan turned and crossed to where a Clan Tech had hitched up a piece of diagnostic equipment to the sonic lock beside the bridge's closed doors. "Freebirth!"
"What's the problem?"
"The bridge has been sealed and we have minimal atmosphere," the Tech replied distractedly, "and I have not a clue how long the hull seal will hold. There was a savashrishort in the electrical systems. The door has given itself a new combination code and I do not know what it is. It was just chosen at random, and if things are still alive in there, it could change again at a moment's notice."
The Kell Hound nodded. "How many digits?"
The Clansman frowned in irritation. "What difference does it make?"
Phelan grabbed the man by his collar and hoisted him off the ground. "Give me an answer, idiot! People may still be alive in there."
"N-nine."
Phelan dropped him and pulled the electronic lockpick from his pocket. He tossed it to the Tech. "Set the switches to nine and hold it against the lockplate." He then turned to one of the other Damage Control Team members. "Give me one of those EVA suits. I go in first. The ilKhan and Khan Ulric were on the bridge. Find them and get them out and to medical facilities immediately, then we pull out any other people we can find."
The Clansmen nodded and prepared their equipment as Phelan pulled on the jumpsuit and sealed the ankles and wrists. They're so conditioned to take orders that they defer to me because I'm willing to take command. I know I'll pay for this when the crisis is over, though they might accept the excuse of my being a bondsman anxious about my master.He fitted the bubble helmet over his head and fastened it at the neck. Someone helped him with his boots and gloves, then the Tech at the lock yelped in amazement.
The doors to the bridge slid open. From amid a cloud of gray smoke, two badly burned people stumbled out. Before they'd even cleared the doorway, Medtechs hit them with painkillers and then guided them down the hallway. Phelan grabbed two tanks of oxygen and dropped into a crouch. As soon as the injured were out of his way, he went in below the level of the rapidly dissipating smoke.
Whatever hit us was big or moving fast—or both!With few exceptions, the work stations had ripped free of the deck and tumbled back toward the interior bulkhead. Buried beneath piles of technological debris, Phelan saw arms and legs, but the rivulets of blood leaking from those mounds told him there was no help for the people beneath them.
Others lay strewn across the torn-up deck, some of them moving feebly, but Phelan continued past them in his search.
He was in the holotank when I last saw him.As Phelan moved toward the collapsed walls of the display unit, the smoke thinned enough to let him see the hole in the hull. Above and slightly to the right of the main viewscreen, it looked about the size of a 'Mech's balled fist. Jagged daggers of metal pointed inward from the hole, but it was by no means enough to have resealed the hole. This place must have been sprayed with shrapnel upon impact. What the hell could it have been?
Pipes running through the hull pumped gouts of a tarry substance over the breach, covering the hole with a glistening black curtain. Some of the dark fluid dribbled down the interior hull, staining the walls black, but most of it clung to the already present layer and increased its thickness. Phelan could see the layer pulled taut where vacuum from outside sucked at it, and he pushed down a momentary flash of panic. He realized that if it were to give, the vacuum would suck him and the others out into space. He looked around the bridge and shook his head. Obviously, anyone not pinned down by debris had flown out through the breach before the sealant had a chance to work. Though the odds were dismal, Phelan knew he would find Ulric.
The repair Tech's voice called anxiously over the radio. "Move it, people. That patch is really stressed. I do not know how much longer the stravagthing will hold."
Phelan shot a brief glance back over his shoulder toward the doorway. "Let us know when you have some good news."
The Tech shook his head. "That is the goodnews, bondsman."
Reaching the remains of the holotank, Phelan discovered a hollow beneath the lowest of the curved panels. Maybe, just maybe... He dropped to his knees and crawled in. Using the flashlight mounted on his right forearm, he dispelled the darkness and found himself staring at the Khan.
Stravag! Gotta get him air.Phelan fitted the mask from one of his oxygen tanks over Ulric's ashen face and started the flow of oxygen. As carefully as possible, he shined the light around to see if the Khan had sustained other injuries besides a cut on the cheek. No compound fractures and nothing trapping him. Let's see if I can move him.
The mercenary grabbed the Khan of the Wolf Clan by the armpits and started to pull. As the Khan's body began to move, Phelan felt some life coming back into the man's limbs. Ulric opened his eyes, and blinked at the glare of the flashlight.
Ulric brought his hands up and grabbed Phelan's arms just above the elbows. Using the mercenary as a brace, the Khan pulled his body free of the holotank. He did his best to stand up, but his knees buckled almost immediately so that Phelan had to catch him before he could fall.
The mercenary gestured to two of the white-suited medics. "This is the Khan. Get him out of here."
Suddenly the radio speakers mounted in his helmet squawked to life. "Everyone, get out of the bridge. The seal is at 110 percent of its maximum stress factor and we have reports that enemy activity is beginning to concentrate in this area. Move! I do not know how long I can hold it."
Phelan started toward the doorway, but saw a pair of legs move weakly. He detoured over to see if he could help, then came up short. Just my luck, isn't it?
Wedged partway beneath a curved magnesium girder, Vlad lay on his back with arms and legs splayed out crazily. None of his limbs appeared to be broken, but something had laid his face open on a line from above his left eyebrow down to his jaw. Blood covered that side of his face, but Phelan knew he was alive.
"You, bondsman, move it. We are at 127 percent of max stress. The steal will go any second now."
The mercenary waved off the warning. Kneeling down, he tried to pull Vlad toward the center of the girder's curve, but something had snagged and held the Clansman fast. It would be ironic if whatever kept you from flying out earlier would prevent me from saving you now.He reached up under the steel beam, unhooked the Mech Warrior from where his belt buckle had been wedged and slid him free.
Grabbing Vlad by the belt buckle Tyra had crafted, Phelan dragged him out from under the metal that had pinned him. Hoisting the Clansman over his left shoulder, the Kell Hound ran toward the doorway 'as the Tech waved him on.
Vaulting piles of debris, he dashed closer to the exit, but five meters from sanctuary, he slipped in a pool of blood and went down.
Vlad bounced from his shoulder and into the doorway, where the repair Tech whisked him out of sight. Phelan tried to scramble to his feet, but his bloodsoaked boots could get no traction. All around him, small pieces of debris began to vibrate and dance as the seal tore away around the edges. Phelan clawed for anything that would pull him closer to the doorway, but nothing gave him purchase. He began to slip, centimeter by centimeter, toward the breach.
Suddenly a huge metal form filled the doorway. The Elemental grabbed the mercenary by the scruff of his neck and heaved him into the corridor beyond the bridge barely seconds before the bridge doors snapped shut behind them. Phelan landed awkwardly in a heap, but the relief at being free of the vacuum's grasp erased any pain or embarrassment he felt.
He climbed to his feet, and with the rippling crackle of parting Velcro, he yanked off his left glove. He offered his hand to the Elemental who had saved him. "I don't know how I can ever thank you."
The armored figure reached up and pulled off its helmet. Holding the helmet in the crook of her right elbow, Evantha enfolded Phelan's left hand in a steel grip. "It would have been a waste to let you die."
The mercenary's jaw dropped. "Evantha? After what I did on Rasalhague ... Why?"
She shook his hand once, then released it. "You may be a bondsman, Phelan Patrick Kell, but you have a warrior's heart. You have much to learn about us and our ways, but you should realize that we respect you. To let you die needlessly would have been a greater sin than letting you defeat me." Then she let a grin break the fearsome mask she wore. "And it would have prevented me from having the chance to fight you again."
Phelan stared after her as she walked off down the corridor behind the medtechs carrying Vlad away. She's right. I do have a lot to learn about the Clans. Perhaps that's what Ulric wants ... for me to understand why they've come to the Inner Sphere.His thoughts drifted back to his pledge to help the Precentor Martial unravel the mystery of the Clans. But what happens when I have that knowledge and how will I be allowed to use it?
