Wings of Pegasus Page 19
She lost track of her controlled breathing, and she held the last gulp of air, watching, waiting. The near silence on the bridge assaulted her ears, deafening in its own way, and she stared at Barret. The next second or two would likely determine if they lived or died. She wondered what was worse, to be in Barret’s position, knowing the lives of his friends and comrades rested on his actions in the next few seconds…or on the rest of Pegasus’s crew, facing the same likelihood of death, but doing so helpless to intervene, to assist in any way.
She never got an answer.
The familiar whine echoed off the walls and deck of the bridge, and her tension ramped up even more, as she realized Barret had fired. The laser beam itself moved at lightspeed, and she knew whatever had resulted from the shot had happened already. But it would take a few seconds for the water currents and the battered scanners to give a clear view of what had happened.
If Barret had destroyed the enemy ship…or if her people were staring into the cold eyes of their own likely deaths.
Then, the wave of water crashed into Pegasus, upending the ship again. Andi felt a sharp pain in her chest as her body lurched forward, and the harness caught her and held her in place. She reached out, grabbing the controls, but despite the wild rolling of her ship, and amid her desperate efforts to regain control, she let out a laugh, and almost maniacal sounding cackle.
The wild torrent of water meant only one thing to her, and before Barret reported, before the scanners displayed the results, she knew exactly what had happened.
Barret had scored a hit. He had destroyed the enemy vessel.
The Union ship had exploded, and the waves of the tsunami engulfing Pegasus, and sending the ship careening again through the tortured water were the spoils of victory.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Free Trader Pegasus
Somewhere in the Endless Sea
Planet Aquellus, Olystra III
Year 302 AC
Andi moved the controls to the port, so lightly, she couldn’t even see the movement. Pegasus lurched gently as the positioning jets on the starboard side fired at five percent power. It was a delicate move, a slight adjustment…but it was a critical one.
The landing approach felt strange to her, utterly different than the wild maneuvers she’d executed to pull Pegasus out of the wild roll that resulted from the destruction of the enemy ship. She’d given herself a few seconds after that to ponder on the unlikelihood of her people surviving so far into the mission. They’d destroyed three Sector Nine landing ships, and they’d endured a crash into the ocean, near destruction from the enormous warhead they’d detonated themselves, and a duel against that third enemy vessel.
Now, they were landing. The fact that the enemy ships had been there was something short of absolute proof there was, indeed, an imperial ruin there…but there wasn’t any doubt left in Andi’s mind.
The space on the rock shelf was large enough to accommodate Pegasus. Just. It was littered with small bits of debris, but they would all fit under her ship’s landing struts, unlike the large chunks surrounding the safe haven on every side. Barret had hit the last enemy ship dead on, and even as she struggled to land amid the scattered field of wreckage that remained from the two vessels, she couldn’t help but feel pride once again in her people. They were a band of misfits, most of them with checkered pasts, but they knew their stuff. Together, they became something very special, most definitely more than the sum of their parts.
Still, proud or not, she was nervous about their adversaries. She was confident her people could handle their counterparts, and she’d put them up against any Badlands prospecting crew out there. But Sector Nine was out of their league, and she couldn’t help but worry about just how high on the spy agency’s list of enemies she and her people had risen. That was the kind of problem that would follow her comrades wherever they went, and for all her normal confidence, it felt a little like an open-ended death sentence.
Andi could see—mostly feel—Barret watching her, the gunner extending her the same courtesy she had him, remaining silent while she did her job. She tapped the controls again, trying to right the ship after a strong current pushed it forward twenty or thirty meters too far.
She’d decided one thing, without the slightest doubt in her mind. She hated piloting her ship underwater, and if she managed to get her people out of this, she resolved to laugh in the face of the next Spacer’s District hustler who tried to send her to some water world. Space’s vacuum was deadly and dangerous, but it was a familiar threat. Two kilometers of water overhead was something entirely different, a danger she found far more difficult to deal with, at least in some ways.
Her people had taken out three Union landers, all they’d found so far. Her analysis of the enemy ship, its mass and dimensions, suggested that three was likely the full complement, especially since the vessel had launched two bombers as well. Anna’s own calculations reached the same conclusion. But it was still more of a guess than she liked. She’d gained the edge by catching her enemy sitting on the rock shelf, and she didn’t much like the idea of getting caught in the same situation if there was another enemy lander out there somewhere.
But it was the only way. She had to go in, and any thought of Pegasus dropping off a landing party and taking off again was quickly disqualified by the need to allow Lex a chance to repair at least some of the damage. If Pegasus launched with her scanners in their current condition, any battle with the enemy’s main ship would be over in a matter of minutes. She was counting on the ability of her kidnapped engineer, relying partially on what she’d already seen of his abilities, and partially on Durango’s assurances Righter was one of the best.
Best, worst, or something in between, he was all they had.
She tapped the controls again, more lightly even than the first time. Pegasus shifted slightly. Maneuvering underwater seemed like something between operations in space, where a ship would travel along a vector indefinitely, at least until a counter force was exerted, and flying in atmosphere, where friction from the air would quickly slow lateral velocity and gravity would pull a powerless vessel relentlessly to the ground. There was no effective influence of gravity in the sea, though she knew that was a tremendous oversimplification of the force patterns at work. All that really mattered to her just then was the fact that she found it difficult and frustrating, especially when she was trying to land with less than three meters to spare in any direction.
She checked the readings. Six meters above the rocky landing pad. She nudged down the vertical thrust, allowing Pegasus to float lower.
Five meters.
She tapped the lateral jets again, pushing the ship slightly to starboard.
Four meters.
A hard landing in water wouldn’t be as dangerous as one in open atmosphere, but it wouldn’t be good. If she came down on a large chunk of debris, she could damage one or more of the landing struts. Or worse.
Three meters.
Pegasus was rocking back and forth. Even with the minimal thrust, the jets were stirring up the water all around, creating a difficult environment to control touchdown. Andi was a perfectionist by nature, but she was ready to accept any landing that didn’t further damage her ship. Even if it wasn’t particularly comfortable for her crew.
Two meters.
She took a deep breath, and she tapped the lateral jets one last time, before she cut the vertical push completely. Pegasus dropped through the water, sliding slightly to port before coming to an abrupt halt. Andi had missed her target point, but not by much, and a few seconds of frantic staring at the display told her she’d come close enough. Pegasus was down, and less than six degrees from level. All the landing struts were on solid ground, and as far as she could tell, no area of the hull had been damaged by any impacts.
It wasn’t an award-winning landing, not by any measure. But it would serve.
That left just two things to do.
First, she had to really check the ship, an
d make certain there was no additional damage. Then she could turn things over to Lex…and see what her engineer was really made of.
The second task gave her stomach a flop or two, but she knew what she had to do. Even then, her mind was racing, picking out the people she was going to take with her…into the depths of the imperial facility she knew was out there, somewhere very close.
* * *
“Remember…there are almost certainly hostiles in here, and by that I don’t mean some crew of loudmouthed prospectors looking to get into a brawl over swag. I mean Union personnel, Sector Nine operatives…even Foudre Rouge. We’re probably outnumbered, and we’re almost certainly outgunned, so I need all of you at your best. No, better than your best.”
Andi almost laughed at her own choice of words. All of you…that’s a pretty grandiose term for five people. Including yourself.
She’d left Lex back at Pegasus, of course. He was the only one who could get the ship ready for what awaited it back out in the space around Aquellus.
She’d ordered Barret to stay as well. She still held some hope Pegasus would make a successful run for the transit point, but in her heart, she knew they had a fight ahead of them. She had no idea how much progress Lex Righter would make, but she knew whatever chance they had to prevail in a battle, it was higher with Barret on the guns. She didn’t like to think about her people being killed or wounded, but she just couldn’t risk losing Barret in some gunfight in the ruin. After Righter and his engineering skills, there was no one more vital to her people’s chances of surviving the mission. And no one more qualified to assist the engineer in getting Pegasus ready for whatever awaited them out there.
She’d left Doc, too, though he’d argued almost as emphatically as Barret had that he should come. She could absolutely see the need for a medic. She was too experienced an adventurer not to imagine the chance-probability?—that her people would take casualties, but as fond as she was him, he just wasn’t as fit as the others, nor as skilled in combat. She was counting on moving in and out as quickly as possible, and she imagined any fights would be sharp and quick. Doc could be of help to any of her people who were wounded, but she knew if she brought him, he would likely be the first casualty.
“This is definitely it, Andi.” Vig’s voice was higher pitched over the comm unit than it was in person. “Someone’s been here, too, and recently. I don’t think there’s much doubt about that.” He gestured toward the rocky ground around his feet. The sandy grit on top of the stone had been disturbed, even where her own people had not yet tread. She knew the sea would quickly cover up any such signs, and that meant whoever was inside hadn’t been there long.
But will they be expecting us? From what she’d seen of imperial facilities, they often interfered with communications. It was possible the Foudre Rouge, or whoever was waiting inside, knew she and her people were coming, even that Pegasus had destroyed their landing ships. But her gambler’s instincts kicked in again, and she bet herself the Union forces inside were cut off, that however outnumbered her people were, they just might have some element of surprise.
“See if you can get it open.” She stood still for a moment, waiting to see if Vig managed to activate the airlock mechanism. Her newest and youngest crew member had a considerable talent for picking locks. She’d teased him a bit about that, but she wasn’t about to become judgmental about anyone’s past. Vig might have learned to steal at a young age, but Andi had learned to kill.
“I think it’s filling with water, Andi. With any luck, we’ll be inside in a minute.” Vig’s tone was a strange mix of cockiness and trepidation. Those two things seemed contradictory, but she understood it completely.
“Stay on it, Vig. If there’s some kind of alert or security, we need to know as soon as possible.” She reached for the waterproof rifle attached to her suit. The undersea suits Durango had given her people were leading edge, and they allowed almost effortless movement, even at the tremendous pressure two kilometers under the surface, at least if that movement was nothing more than straight forward or turning slowly. The suits were also well equipped for battle, with specialized assault rifles, though Durango had warned her that even the custom-designed weapons had extremely restricted ranges underwater.
She took a deep breath, too deep for the oxygen rich mixture in her tanks, and she felt lightheaded for a few seconds. She caught herself, and she slowed her respiration rate. She’d known better, at least Durango’s people had given her some quick instruction with the suits, but she was edgy, tense. She felt edgy under the water, claustrophobic, and it was starting to get to her.
She stood still, staring at Vig, watching as he struggled to work the controls in his own bulky suit. The gloves were the thinnest part of the apparatus, designed to facilitate close work. But they still had to protect against the massive pressure, so they were pretty thick, if less so than the rest of the suit.
Andi was about to ask Vig for s status report when the door slid open, revealing a fully-flooded interior compartment, several meters square. Vig stepped inside almost immediately. Andi opened her mouth to warn him off, to tell him to hold back until she got a closer look, but he was already in, and she remained silent. She made a mental note to speak with her brash young crew member, almost forgetting, as she always did, that she was barely older herself.
Vig turned and looked back. “Come on…it’s clear.”
Andi almost responded, but there was no point. She just nodded, for whatever that gesture was worth in the suit, and she said to the others, “Let’s go.”
She walked in next, followed by the rest of the small party. “Okay, Vig, so far so good. Can you get us in now?”
“You bet. This thing’s not so complicated.” Andi was usually good at shifting through bullshit, but she couldn’t get a solid fix on how much of Vig’s confidence was based on fact, and how much on youthful cockiness.
I guess we’ll find out…
She watched as he worked the controls, taking longer than his brash statement would have suggested. Finally, Andi heard a creaking sound, and the outer door slid shut. A few seconds later, the water bubbled all around as it drained out of the room. Half a minute later, she was standing on the ground, suddenly feeling the oppressive weight of the suit.
Vig continued his efforts, and the inner door opened, revealing a large chamber inside. Andi’s eyes darted around, scanning the room for threats. It didn’t take her long to find them, at least signs of them.
There were a dozen suits laying against the walls. No, more than a dozen. Twenty-three in total. For a few seconds, some part of her tried to believe they were artifacts, ancient imperial equipment, laying there for centuries. But it only took a second to realize half of them were still wet.
“She looked down at her portable scanner, confirming that the air was breathable. There were no pathogens, at least none the small device could detect. And the risk of some unknown disease seemed less ominous than that of the enemy coming into the room fully armed, and catching her people almost helpless in their undersea gear.
She reached down and pulled the release, popping open her suit. She was the leader, and to her that meant she went first, confirming the scanner reports with her own lungs. She took a deep breath. It was musty, and the scent had a feeling of…oldness…to it. But it seemed perfectly breathable.
“Okay, pop your suits. It looks like we’ve got company, and we don’t want to get caught in these things.” She waited for perhaps a minute, while her people opened their suits, and climbed out with varying degrees of grace. Or clumsiness.
“I want everybody ready for anything that happens.” Even as she spoke, she pulled her assault rifle from the waterproof sack she’d carried. She didn’t even reach for the underwater weapon laying on the floor next to her discarded suit. Her own guns were far handier in a fight than the single shot underwater jobs Durango had given her. She checked to make sure the clip was firmly in place, and she reached down and grabbed a utility belt cove
red in small grenades. She draped it over her shoulder, and she looked around, waiting impatiently as the others armed themselves. She pulled a shiny blade from a scabbard, staring at the razor sharp edge for a second, before she slid it back and attached the whole thing to her belt. Then, she looked all around, at the room, at the possible exit doors, and at her people.
“It looks like there’s only one way to go, so shall we?” She gestured toward the single door on the far side of the room. It was closed, but Vig was already at the control panel, and he turned toward her. “It looks unlocked, Andi.” He paused for a moment, and then he took her lack of an immediate response as approval to press on. He moved his finger against one side of the glass panel, and the door slid open.
Andi peered down the corridor ahead. She hesitated for a few seconds, checking and double checking the long, straight hallway beyond the door. Then, she turned toward Vig. “You’re with me. The rest of you stay back a couple meters. We don’t need to make it easy for them to take us all out.” It was an ominous thing to say, but she knew they were going into danger, probably desperate danger. And sugar-coating things wouldn’t be a favor to her people.
She needed them at their best. And fear would sharpen their senses, improve their response times.
It was sharpening hers.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Unidentified Imperial Ruin
Somewhere Under the Endless Sea
Planet Aquellus, Olystra III
Year 302 AC
Andi stared at the two corpses, and the pools of semi-congealed blood around them on the floor. There had been a serious fight in the room, but it wasn’t until she glanced down the corridor that her stomach really tightened. There was debris everywhere. The battle had been no struggle between rival prospecting crews, nor even Sector Nine thugs fighting such a group.