Subtle weapon, p.10
Subtle Weapon, page 10
part #2 of ShadowTech Series
The launcher groaned. There was a shriek of sheering metal. Deva punched the air.
“One down, two to go,” she said. “How are we for time?”
“More Kaiahive imminent..”
“How imminent?”
Keelin took a breath, didn’t answer.
“Thought so,” Deva said.
One of the Ions screamed overhead, fired a missile. The far wall of the building erupted in smoke and flames, cracked to show the trees beyond.
More gunfire outside. Keelin focused, recognised lattice-rich traces outside. Another Ion—could’ve been the first one coming back—and another missile.
The far wall collapsed in a cloud of dust and rubble. There were screams, and Kaiahive’s troops scurried over the demolished wall.
And below, in the deck itself, a door opened. Two figures raced out, both in flight outfits. They even had helmets.
How the hell could these people fight Kaiahive when they had such old equipment? This place was a joke!
The figures surging through the broken wall spread out. Keelin ran, engaged. Took out five, another, a couple who tried to shoot her. But others got away. They ran for the stairs.
Keelin followed. Saw the pilots stagger. For a moment it looked like they were dancing—bodies jerking, arms flailing.
Blood sprayed where the bullets hit.
Keelin raised the Preben. Each shot found its mark, three more targets removed. Then a click—empty.
She dropped the weapon, ran. A fallen figure in green, pool of crimson beneath, and a Tychon at their side. She dipped, picked it up. Connected, targeted.
Three shots. Three Kaiahive fell. One toppled over the barrier, the others collapsed out of sight.
But there were more. And in her comms Lise yelled something about another two Proteus coming in.
“Need to get that Nyx free now!” Keelin yelled at Deva.
“No pilot!”
Keelin looked, took in a snapshot—Deva and three others hanging from the launcher, immobile, looking at the dead bodies in their blood-stained flight-suits.
Keelin didn’t make the decision, her body did. By the time she realised what she needed to do—what she was going to do—she was half-way across the deck.
She twisted as she ran, squeezing off shots. Kaiahive fell, more taking their place.
“Deva! Get those clamps free.”
“They’re not strictly clamps…”
“Don’t care! Haven’t got time!”
“Can’t go too fast. It’ll damage the launcher.”
“Need to get that Nyx free.”
Keelin hadn’t used launchers since training. And most of that had been in the sim. Where she’d experimented. Where she’d pushed things as far as they could go.
“Use side-boosters,” she muttered.
“What?”
“I can use the side-boosters to stabilise. Should be able to react fast enough.”
She reached the craft’s hatch. It was already open, and she squeezed in—they weren’t made for comfort, especially for pilots Keelin’s size. She reached out with her lattice, found the connection.
It asked for a code.
“Don’t have time for this,” she muttered, fastening the harness as best she could. She closed her eyes, focused on the craft’s system.
There was always a back door. The pilot in Keelin knew this. And the NeoGen side of her had the skills.
Keelin soothed the angry security protocol. Through the mist of data she saw damage reports, and made suggestions.
Security pushed back. She reached through, entered figures, made suggestions. The craft hummed. The lighting in the cockpit dimmed.
Then security sat back. She was in.
“Deva?”
“Got the second one free. Starting on the third. But it’s cold-frozen. Going to take time.”
“Don’t have time.”
She focused on traces, read the situation. Kaiahive swarmed the building. Heralds fought back, but they stood no chance. The outcome was inevitable.
Deva was out there, working on this launcher. And Keelin was in tight, didn’t even have room to turn, to lift her weapon.
She’d dropped it anyway. No space in the Nyx’s cockpit.
An Ion flew overhead, a rush of noise and shadow. Burst of flame—missile launch. An explosion sending reverberations through Keelin, shook the whole Nyx.
Deva yelled out.
“You okay?”
“Only just held on.”
“How’s it going?”
“Getting there.”
Keelin concentrated, pulled up data from the Nyx’s sensors. She saw the patch Deva worked on, and probed, read the analysis.
Knew what she needed to do.
“Leave it,” she said. “Get off the launcher.”
A pause. “But you’re still attached.”
“Won’t be for long.”
“You can’t break free. You’ll need too much force.”
“I can use the main boosters.”
Another pause. “On the launcher?”
“Better to wreck it than die.”
It wasn’t the best sentence, but it got the idea across. In the visual sensor, Deva nodded. She yelled something to her co-workers. Then she looked into the sensor.
“Just come back.”
“I intend to.”
Deva clambered down, and Keelin initiated boosters.
Deva
The whole launcher shook and groaned. Hot air battered Deva as she jumped free.
The Ion returned with a scream. Flame burst from each wing as it launched its missiles.
Deva ran. She didn’t want to leave Keelin, but what could she do?
The three mechs ran with her. She hadn’t caught their names. One of them tripped. Something warm splashed the side of Deva’s face, stank of metal.
She cried out. Forced herself to keep running toward the stairs. Toward freedom.
Voices yelled in her ear, a cacophony in her comms. She ignored them all.
A figure appeared at the top of the stairs. Dressed in dark green, face covered. Raised a gun. Deva threw herself aside. Heard a grunt from one of the other mechs, saw him fall.
The figure at the top of the stairs jerked forward. The gun clattered down to the deck floor. The shooter tumbled after it.
Lise raced down behind the figure, gun in hand. She twisted, fired behind her, carried on running.
An angry roar from behind. Heat tumbled over Deva, dusty debris stinging her hands and pitting her back. Brightness burst through her closed eyes.
She tasted burning fuel and smoke, screamed the sensation out. Wanted to gag. Spun round—had to know what was happening.
The launcher was nothing but twisted, burning metal. But the Nyx was free. It catapulted into the sky, the roar from its boosters tinged with a high-pitched whine.
Keelin pushed too hard. She was overloading the boosters.
All part of her plan.
The Nyx shot up, flipped over. The Ion blurred in, but Keelin had the Nyx in perfect position. White-hot air streaked from the side-cannons.
The explosion was only one of many. The Ion burst from the ball of flame. But it stuttered. Debris tumbled to the ground, and the Ion followed.
Before it disappeared beneath the wall of the building, Keelin pulled the Nyx into a hard turn, sped off to the next target.
“Lucky shot,” said a voice to Deva’s side.
She turned.
There was blood on Lise’s cheek, more smeared in her hair, and grime on her hands. The Preben was coated in a shimmer of heat, had been over-used.
Deva shook her head. “She knows what she’s doing.”
“How the hell did you launch her?”
“Joint effort”
“Huh?”
“Partially released, then she tore free. Won’t be able to use the launcher again.”
“Doesn’t matter. This place is gone. Come on.”
Lise raced off, and Deva followed. Not up the stairs, because flames flickered at their top, and thick black smoke clouded overhead.
“Back way?” Deva caught up with Lise.
“Always a back way.”
They ran past ruined equipment and twisted metal. Bodies lay on the floor. They didn’t move. Neither Lise nor Deva stopped to check on them.
The smoke descended. It tasted sooty, made Deva cough. She ducked her head, wiped sweat from her brow, and ran on. Lise darted through an open doorway, into a small corridor. There was a sealed door at the end.
“We’re evacuating,” she said as she tapped on a wall-mounted terminal. “Setting self-destruct.”
“Looks like Kaiahive have already done that.”
The door opened. Lise shook her head. “Destroying records. We’re moving to the proper base.”
“Proper base?”
“I’ll explain later. Come on.”
Deva followed Lise through the door. It slid shut behind her, clicking as the locks engaged. Dim light filled a narrow passageway, the rock walls untreated, cold and rough. But the floor was smooth.
Deva’s legs throbbed and her chest heaved. She tasted ash and blood, sweat and heat. She wiped a hand across her eyes, didn’t know if that cleared anything or made it worse.
The passage dipped, then rose. Beyond the pounding of blood in her ears Deva no longer heard the chaos of the deck.
Lise opened another door, and they stepped into a small chamber, then climbed metal rungs. Lise pushed aside a hatch at the top, and warm air flooded in, accompanied by green-tinged light.
Daylight.
Deva collapsed against the trunk of a tree. The pain in her chest flared, then settled into a dull throb.
“How do you feel?” Lise asked. Her eyes scanned Deva’s body, her forehead creased.
“I’m alive.” Deva tried to smile. “Anyone behind us?”
Lise sighed, shook her head.
“But others evacuated from the settlement, didn’t they?”
Lise’s head fell forward. “That was the instruction.”
“So there’s a rendezvous?”
“A few. All link up.”
“Is that where we’re going?”
Lise lifted her head and gazed into the distance.
No. She looked into the past. Deva knew the woman was mourning the loss of the settlement—and, surely, of personnel. Friends and colleagues. Maybe more than friends.
Family.
Deva blinked moisture from her eyes. She sniffed.
Lise turned at the sound. “Come on,” she said, running into the forest.
Deva followed.
Keelin
Keelin banked away from the falling Ion, pulling into an ascent.
The Nyx moved with far more grace than the Proteus. But it wasn’t hers, and there was that new-boots sensation, that slight awkwardness.
No time to get acquainted, though. The other Nyx struggled against two of the Ions. Kept them busy. Gave Keelin time to deal with the remaining Ion over the base.
She banked, let the Kaiahive craft see her. It closed in to attack, head-on. Data swam across Keelin’s lenses. Ten seconds to impact.
Keelin pushed power into the boosters, shot forward. Suicide run, already too close for the Ion to use missiles.
Five seconds to impact.
Kaiahive didn’t allow idiots in the cockpit. The Ion pilot wouldn’t risk his own life. His nose lifted.
Revised impact in six seconds.
Keelin’s cannon flared.
The Ion’s power drive ruptured. Flames engulfed the whole craft.
The pilot didn’t panic. He pushed higher, increased speed. Used air-flow to smother the flames.
But the damage was done. The Ion stuttered, the single remaining booster flaring intermittently. It rose higher, turned toward the crater, limped home.
“Nice work, Will.”
The voice came from the terminal in front of Keelin. She reminded herself that these pilots didn’t have lattices.
“I’m not Will,” she said, and data told her the craft had picked up her audio signal, fed it to the other Nyx. “Last minute replacement. You need a hand?”
The pilot ducked and swerved, dragging the Ions around the sky. His bodywork was battle-scarred, and one of the boosters burnt grey with damage.
“Sure. Tried dragging them away from the base, but they weren’t all playing.”
“Professionals.” Keelin banked, streaked over the forest to reach the Nyx and his two limpets. “I’ll have them off you in a sec.”
“Appreciate it. You got a name?”
“Keelin.” It slipped out before she could stop it. Too late to call it back. “You?”
“Theo.”
She pulled up cannon tracking, latched on to the rear Ion. Both of them followed Theo tightly, focused on their prey.
But they weren’t ready for a rear attack, couldn’t compensate for Keelin’s weaving.
“Time to go,” she said, and triggered.
Nothing happened. She re-locked, triggered again. Still nothing.
She checked the system. No warnings flashed. She dove deep.
“Bugger!”
“What?”
Why the hell hadn’t she muted herself? She slapped her leg. The sound echoed around the cockpit and inside her skull.
“Cannons never got restocked.”
“Reserves?”
“Checked. Haven’t been filled in ages. Can’t throw a thing at them.”
“Thought Will had given everything the once-over.”
“Once wasn’t enough. Change of plan. I’ll distract. You pick those Ions off.”
Keelin urged her Nyx on. She side-boosted, broadside to the front Ion. Her body tensed, felt the hot air-wash from the Ion on her arms.
Too close. And the Ion pilot knew it, pulled away. Keelin leaned in. Forced the Ion into the path of his colleague.
Who pulled up.
Theo banked, clipped tree-tops as he shot away.
“Ballsy move,” he said.
Keelin increased power, darted in front of the Ion—too close for a lock, close enough that her booster wash clogged air intake, made the Ion shudder.
She reached out through the Nyx. The Ion pilot was Kaiahive, would have lattice connect. She found a bridge—didn’t want to communicate, just read his mood.
He wasn’t happy. Wanted pay-back.
Good.
She twisted, kept the Ion busy. Didn’t pull away. Needed him close.
And the second Ion followed.
“Got them distracted,” she said. “Take them out.”
“On it.”
Theo came in behind the rear Ion. Got a lock. The Ion took evasive, pulled away.
Put up a good fight. But Theo kept tight, matched the Ion’s movement. First shot missed. Second hit.
The Ion tumbled, end over end. Went down in the trees.
“Nice,” Keelin said. And it was—especially for a pilot running manual.
“Last bugger’s too close to you. I miss, I take you out.”
“Then don’t miss.”
“Risk’s too big. Pull away.”
Made sense. Keelin increased power.
The Ion matched her. She pushed to max. The Ion stayed with her.
“How’s it doing that?” Theo asked.
“Modded to the eyeballs. Company special.”
She dove, brushed tree-tops. Tilted into an opening, pulled up at the last moment.
The Ion held her tail.
“Why doesn’t he pull back for a lock?”
“Knows you’re there.”
“Means he can’t take you out.”
“Pushing me into a mistake.”
The Nyx shuddered as Keelin barrel-rolled, shot over the coast. Water danced beneath her.
She stall-dropped, kicked in power. Belly-bounced the waves. The water washed over her stomach, warm with friction.
“We need back-up,” Theo said.
The Ion stuck with her. Didn’t drop as far, or as fast.
“Got an idea,” she said.
Keelin pulled the nose up, rose to vertical. Booster-wash churned the sea. Hot spray against her back.
She pulse-fed the port side-boosters, sent the Nyx into a tight spiral. Tipped the nose over.
For its length, the Nyx had a tight manoeuvring sphere. At the right speed, it could spin on the spot. Ions were good, but not that good.
Keelin curved around the Ion. The Kaiahive craft tried to follow, tried to flip over. They came too close—brush of hull on hull, lurching, warnings flashing in her lenses.
She didn’t stop, continued to surround the Ion.
Every muscle ached. Her forehead throbbed. Data swarmed over her lenses, patterns of numbers and colours.
“What the hell is that?” Theo said.
Keelin couldn’t answer. She concentrated—minute alterations, dodging the frantic Ion, keeping the curves tight. Too tight—pressure all over, hull straining under the tension.
This wasn’t in any training manual. This wasn’t how the Nyx was designed. But it would work.
It had to.
She clipped the Ion again, sending them both juddering off-course.
And she threw everything at the boosters.
The process was precise, cuts and boosts in sequence, too fast to follow. But Keelin’s NeoGen mind calculated, adjusted on the fly, worked on instinct and training.
Keelin groaned. She twisted, broad-side to the Ion, then her rear.
She triggered a full aft-boost blast.
The pressure was intense. Her vision blurred. Her lenses glitched. Warnings screamed red.
Technically, it was complicated. In simple terms, the back half of the Nyx wanted to overtake the front half.
And the boost generated was too much for the Ion. The little craft shot away, twisting, tumbling. Smoke rose from ruined boosters. One side of the hull ripped loose.
The Ion fell. When it hit the water steam erupted.
Keelin held her breath, forced everything into holding the Nyx steady. Couldn’t see, couldn’t hear. Focused on the craft.
And she slowed. The burst faded. The shuddering stopped.
Keelin exhaled. Sweat ran into her eyes, dropped from the end of her snout.
“Wow! That was something else! Didn’t know a Nyx could do that. Hope Will’s watching.”
