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“Ready?” Talyn smiled at Corde, now occupying Decker’s old weapons station aboard Phoenix.
“As I’ll ever be.” She nodded nervously. “It’s been a while since I touched one of these.”
“Don’t worry, gunnery isn’t something you forget in a hurry, and the AI can help you.”
A chime rang out as if the ship agreed.
“Doesn’t your AI speak?”
Talyn laughed.
“It does, but Zack shut the vocal functions off.”
“Why?”
Instead of answering, Talyn entered a string of commands, and a clear alto voice rang out.
“All systems ready, Captain.”
“That’s you, Hera!”
“Yup. Some wag programmed it with my voice and locked out any attempt to make changes. Zack said that one of me aboard was already one too many.”
“The cheek of the man.” Corde smiled, her earlier uneasiness gone.
“Meh.” Talyn shrugged, smiling. “He’s like fungus – he grows on you to the point where you not only can’t get rid of him, you end up not wanting to try.”
She turned on the main screen and then Phoenix’s landing lights to illuminate the cavern. A pair of rebel troopers, part of their escort from the base, raised light wands and waited. She briefly flicked the position lights on and off twice, the agreed-upon signal, and then fed power to the thrusters and antigrav units.
Though she’d vowed never to go through the ordeal of piloting an FTL-capable starship in such a tight space again, Talyn bit her lower lip and gently followed the ground guides until Phoenix was above the riverbed, where the opening was at its largest. From there, some gentle maneuvering brought them out into the open night air.
She set the ship down on the flat, broad riverbank once occupied by the now long gone freighters they’d escorted to Garonne and breathed in deeply.
“That, believe or not, was the hardest part of our mission. Now, we wait.”
“You think it’ll work?”
“If it starts going off the rail, so to speak, I can guarantee Zack will do everything he can. Other than that?”
She shrugged.
“He’s good guy to have beside you in a fight, but a one-man army, he’s not. A lot depends on how badly we surprise the militia.”
**
Moments after the train came to a halt, pods disgorged armed rebel soldiers while, one after the other, roof hatches were flung aside to give the mortars hidden within a clear field of fire.
After making sure no militia soldiers lurked nearby, ready to pounce before the rebels had established a secure perimeter, Decker released the magnetic clamps and flew his combat car off the lead pod and down onto a wide gravel road running along the tracks.
The second train was due to stop several kilometers away in an area of warehouses fronting the river, not far from the government precinct, and that’s where they needed to be for the assault.
“The forward observers are in place,” Verrill said after listening to a muted radio transmission, “and the battery is ready to fire.”
“Crap,” he said a moment later, “a column of cars just emerged from the compound – estimated to be at company strength.”
“This is where the plan starts fighting for survival,” Decker replied, gunning his fans when they came out of a sharp curve and onto the main road cutting through town.
“I’ll bet they picked up on the mortar train. Our friends in the commission may have waited too long before cutting the yard’s security sensors.”
“I’ve warned them,” Verrill said moments later.
“All fine and dandy, but combat cars against dismounted troops isn’t what you’d call an even fight. Our best bet is to launch the attack now and make chaos our friend.”
They reached the spot where the assault battalion had disembarked only to find a small rear party waiting for them.
“Alfa and Charlie companies are across the river on the upstream bridge and advancing to the target,” the battalion executive officer reported, “Bravo and Delta companies are beginning to cross downstream. The locals have taken down any militia patrols they came across, so I don’t think the alarm’s been sounded yet.”
“It’ll sound any second now,” Decker replied. “They know we’re here. A rapid reaction force is heading for the yards. They just haven’t figured out yet how we’ll do it to them. Where do you want us?”
“I’d suggest the downstream crossing.”
“Works for me,” Decker replied. “Works for you, Verrill?”
The rebel leader nodded.
“I guess we leave our car here?”
“Not much use to us at this point.” He touched the XO’s arm. “The thing’s yours. Feel free to deploy it as you see fit. I’d suggest the park right across the river from the precinct. Clearest field of fire you could want; though I’d advise you to rig the weapons station for remote firing. No sense in risking one of your guys inside the damned tin can.”
At that moment, heavy gunfire erupted to their left, and all hell broke out over the radio.
“Sounds like the militia combat cars ran right into Bravo and Delta,” Decker said. “If Alfa and Charlie are within range of the target, I suggest the mortar battery open up now.”
**
“Time.” Talyn checked her seat harness. “Make sure you’re strapped in tight. Flying this close to the surface is going to make things rocky.”
“Already done,” Corde replied.
The captain and sole pilot of the smallest Q-ship in the Navy flicked on her thrusters, sending shivers through the hull. Phoenix immediately broke contact with the ground and rose slowly above the shallow riverbed. Talyn retracted the landing struts and then sent power to the aft thrusters, flying them upwards and out of the narrow valley. Almost immediately, the radio came to life with frantic messages on the government frequencies.
“Sounds like the party’s started,” she said, banking the small starship to starboard and Iskellian. “You can spool up the calliopes, but keep the main guns at weapons tight. I don’t want to increase the risk of collateral damage, especially since my partner is going to be somewhere below us, no doubt leading the charge.”
**
“We’re getting reports of armed groups moving through Iskellian.” Alegre paused to regain some of his composure. “And we’ve lost contact with a lot of the regular patrols.”
Suddenly, the radio erupted with a string of shouts punctuated by the sound of gunfire and the screams of men who’d been shot.
“HQ, this is RRC,” the rapid reaction company commander sounded as scared as Alegre looked, “we’ve run into a large hostile force blocking the downstream bridge and are taking heavy fire. We can’t get across.”
“Estimated strength?” Alegre asked.
“A battalion, maybe a bit less,” came the reply.
“How did they get a battalion so close without anyone noticing?” Harend turned on Kozlev. “It can’t have come from the train yards. There wouldn’t have been enough time.”
The intelligence officer stared at the map projection while chewing on the inside of her cheek.
“A second train from Tianjin. It can only have been a second train, one which stopped around here.” She pointed at a spot near the center of Iskellian, between both main bridges. “Thanks to the traitors at the transport commission, we never saw it arrive. If they have a couple of companies trying to force their way across the downstream bridge, there has to be something crossing upstream. Not using the easier route when you’re ready to throw a major force at the most densely built-up spot in the downtown area just wouldn’t make sense.”
“Why haven’t we picked anything up yet?”
“Because you haven’t been looking, Major,” Kozlev snarled. “With the surveillance network down, you need to get eyes on our east flank, and I mean actual eyes, not a fresh batch of sensors – they’ve been singularly unreliable tonight.”
“What actually came in on that first train, I wonder?” She tapped her chin with extended fingers.
Chaos, Decker’s best friend for the night, was spreading his dark wings over Garonne’s capital. Things were about to get much worse, and only Rika Kozlev had an inkling of what was coming.
“Crap.” Her eyes widened in shock when she made the final connection. “Colonel, the unscheduled train that we saw entering the yards carries their indirect fire support. It has to. There’s no other reason to send it there instead of...”
Harend held up a hand to silence her when he heard a sound he knew only too well.
Moments later they heard another pair of muted crumps, the second ranging salvo.
“There’s your answer, Captain,” he whispered, mentally ticking down the seconds before impact. “The freight train carried a heavy mortar battery.”
Then, the center of the government precinct erupted in gouts of flame, earth, and stone.
**
Decker, Verrill, and their escort joined up with the commander of Bravo Company on the south side of the river, at a spot where they could see both the near battle for control of the bridge and the brooding mass of dark buildings that marked their target. No sooner had they arrived that the first rounds landed, lighting up the night.
“Perfect,” Decker smiled like a proud father. After all, he’d overseen gunnery training. “When your first shots are on target, the fight is almost over.”
As if the forward observers had heard him, a voice on the radio ordered the mortar battery to fire for effect seconds later.
Within moments, twelve one-hundred-and-twenty millimeter rounds fell less than a thousand meters away, turning night into day.
The troopers of the rapid reaction company, caught between two conflagrations and already staggering under the sustained fire of two dozen rebel machine guns, wavered for a few seconds, then the combat cars furthest away from the engagement, turned tail and sped west along the riverbank, away from the main action. It was enough to cause a general rout.
Bravo and Delta companies surged across, Decker hot on their heels, carbine held at the high port as he ran. A second salvo came thundering in, and the earth shook beneath his feet. Then a third.
The moment he stepped onto the north bank of the Yangtze River, now bright with the reflection of bursting shells, Zack heard a familiar voice on the special radio channel.
“Rookie Trooper, this is Phoenix. We’re inbound and can see the center of the target. No need to mark, just have the assault force hold in place and suspend the mortar fire.”
“Roger. Wait, out.” He nudged Verrill and passed on the news that their air support was almost here to help deliver the deathblow.
Then, when the orders had been duly transmitted and acknowledged, Decker called Talyn.
“You’re weapons free over the target. The last mortar salvo is about to...there it is. Have fun.”
He looked towards the east, squinting until he could detect an approaching shape, dark against the night sky and no more than five hundred meters above the ground. It grew larger at an alarming rate, to the sound of a deep roar that threatened to overwhelm the noise of battle.
“There she is.” He pointed at the sudden eruption of small-bore plasma rounds stitching a wide swath of super-heated ruin across the heart of the government precinct.
“Oo-RAH!” Decker shouted when a combat car, parked near the governor’s mansion, exploded in a fireball of molten alloy, adding to the damage already inflicted on the building’s facade.
Then, with an ear-splitting rumble, the starship’s bulk passed over them and momentarily blotted out the sky. The keel calliope slewed all the way back, kept up a steady stream of fire while Phoenix withdrew towards the western horizon.
A new mortar salvo whistled in, though, at this point, Zack figured they were mostly bouncing the rubble.
Verrill must have had the same thought because he gave the order to advance over the now shredded security perimeter and seize what was left of the Garonne colonial government and its militia.
With the artillery storm over, Decker gave into his urges and sprang forward with the lead company. A wolfish grin spread across his face when he heard the wail of pipes to his right, where Alfa and Charlie companies had overrun weak militia resistance.
He saw a shadow move behind a ruined second-floor window and snap-fired two rounds. A militia light machine gun began to chatter on the left, and a few rebel troopers went down, screaming.
Decker’s eyes tracked the flash of the weapon’s muzzle, and he shot back, pumping a dozen rounds into the dark recess where the militia soldiers had holed up. He heard them die noisily before he clambered over the debris of a wall blown down by a direct hit.
Once past the outer row of buildings, he saw a sight that made him smile so broadly it almost went from ear to ear. The center of the government precinct was no more than a burning ruin.
Chaos had indeed done good business in Iskellian this night.
Verrill finally caught up with him and laid a restraining hand on his shoulder.
“My people can take care of the rest without you, Zack. It would be a shame to catch the last militia round of the mopping-up operation. Hera would have my guts for garters if that happened and I’m a lot more scared of her than I am of you.”
**
Landing at the Iskellian spaceport had turned out to be a lot easier than taking off, once Talyn had talked down an indignant controller with a brief demonstration of firepower.
Finding a ground car to take her and Corde into town to rejoin the rebel forces proved to be a lot more difficult, though, in the end, they commandeered the personal vehicle of the self-same controller, leaving him to examine Phoenix in wonderment.
Their trek took them through the streets filled with throngs of civilians, both curious and jubilant, some exacting vengeance for years of insults from the colonial administration by setting fire to deportee slums, abandoned militia posts, and government offices.
The far horizon began to show a line of increasingly pale pink, heralding the start to a day of reckoning, while by the river, in the gray city within a city, the independence movement’s rage burned itself out.
They passed through the rebel cordon sealing off the area and were directed to the remains of the governor’s mansion where Verrill had set up his headquarters.
Talyn found Zack sitting on a step partially shredded by the exploding combat car, chewing thoughtfully on a ration bar. Around him, Verrill and the rebel officers dealt with the aftershock of the decapitation operation: rounding up prisoners, seizing intelligence, taking care of the wounded, stacking up the dead and sending orders to rebel units still battling the militia in outlying districts.
His face was creased with fatigue, his battledress was covered in dust, and the charred mark of a near miss creased one arm, but he smiled when he saw her and patted the stone beside him.
“How’s my air support?” He asked, leaning over to kiss her.
“Apparently getting a good whiff of your goat smell, mister,” she replied after coming up for air, “although I suppose I’m no better.”
“I like you down and dirty, don’t forget.” Decker held out a second ration bar. “I know you get as horny and hungry as me after a fight, but this will have to do for now.”
She bit off a chunk and examined the plaza separating the mansion from militia headquarters in the growing light of dawn.
“I think we may have gone at it harder than we needed to,” she remarked.
“Restraint in war is the ultimate perversion.”
“Is that a Deckerism?” She asked, accepting his water bottle.
“Probably, but it’s been proven right more often than not. The Celeste government won’t say boo when the matter of Garonne independence is put before the Senate, not after they see pictures of what the supposedly weak and uncoordinated rebel movement did to its lackeys.” He jerked his chin at the ruins.
“A few love taps, just enough to take control, wouldn’t have had the same effect. I think we did well, all things considered.”
“True,” she nodded after considering his words. “Mind you, we still don’t have any evidence who was pouring in all that money to trigger a bloody civil war.”
“Also true.” He shrugged. “We’ll share our pet theories with the analysts when we get home, and they can think it through. At least we made sure the bastards weren’t able to ruin Garonne, and I figure that’s called a successful mission.”
“Captain Ulrich might disagree.”
“So what? I told him I’d give this gig a year. The year’s up. He decides to kick my ass out of the section for going rogue, he’s welcome. I can find myself a good billet in a lot of units where I don’t have to be the man of many faces, none of them mine.”
She was about to reply when the commo unit linking her to Phoenix beeped.
“Who knows your number around here?” Decker asked.
Talyn slipped an earpiece on and opened the link, listening for almost a minute before shutting it off.
“Mikado’s arrived in-system with your parakiting buddies. She’ll call again when she’s about to slip into orbit.”
“That should give the Avalon sloops a few nervous hiccups.”
“I think by now they know there’s been a change in ownership, so they’ll no doubt be very careful.”
“Why would Ulrich send in the Marines?” Decker mused before biting into an apple he’d pulled out of his pack. “I’m already here, sorting things out properly.”
She chuckled.
“The boss may be freakily good when it comes to our business, but he doesn’t have precognition that I know of. He’ll have asked SOCOM to dispatch someone a few weeks ago, and SOCOM, in turn, sent folks who are used to your little explosions of creativity.”
“As long as I can welcome Ryent and Vanleith in proper style, I’m happy.”
“No doubt.” She playfully jabbed an elbow in his ribs. “Just make sure it doesn’t offend each and every morals law on the planet, will you? I don’t want to be summarily run off before we have a chance to sift through whatever Verrill’s men have captured.”
“Speaking of running, how’s Phoenix? Can we ride her home as she is?”
“Probably, but I’d still like to have a proper engineer look her over. She took more damage than we thought from the Avalon ships.”
“I’m sure your buddy running Mikado will lend you his.”
“Actually,” she stood and wiped the dust from her buttocks. “I’d be even happier if he sent a few of his people to crew Phoenix while we take the long way home. Sailing a starship single-handed loses its charm after a while.”
“The way I remember things, you weren’t single-handed. I was doing most of the stuff not involving the arcane and ancient mysteries of astrogation.”
Decker stood as well after tucking his water bottle away.
“You know what I mean, big boy.” A weary, yet fond smile softened her features. “Flying that little monster in and out of places not designed as hangars gets old fast.”
One of Verrill’s troopers jogged up to them.
“The boss wonders whether you’d like to join him in inspecting the prisoners.”
He waved towards an open area in the northwest corner of the precinct that had been largely spared by both mortar and starship.
A cruel grin twisted Decker’s lips.
“Oh, would I ever. There’s a certain militia captain I’d like to nominate for summary execution on a charge of war crimes.”
