Edge of Redemption (A Star Too Far Book 3) (34 page)

Her finger tapped on the blue icon and held it for a moment. She glanced up at Myint and saw his hard eyes. This is it, she thought, like the chicken and pig. Her finger released and a friendly tone sounded. The feed was live.

“Citizens,” she purred. “The time is upon us to seek our liberty. Long have we toiled under the shackles of Core and now Core is back and using you for their own gain.” She glanced at Myint. He didn’t look pleased, but he didn’t look unhappy either.

“At this moment, a Core agent seeks to deprive you of your freedom. The freedom we have worked so diligently with our friends to achieve.” Her voice rose and her fingers stabbed out. “Know now the deceit! Core will use you! Burden you! Make slaves of you! Fight not the troops from the
Harmony Worlds
but fight those who seek to shackle your liberty.” She took a breath and made sure it was audible. “Now is the moment of our nation. If you’ve taken up arms against the legitimate Government of Winterthur, then lay them down. If you’ve done nothing, then stay out of harm’s way and remain safe. This minor disturbance will be over soon enough.”

She saw the necessity in the words even if the truth was a bit muddled. To her, the moment was ripe for the plucking. A time to inspire. A time to drive her ideals home. But most of all, a time for her to secure what was hers. Winterthur.

“Winterthur, this is our greatest moment. I, as I’ve always done, will lead you all to prosperity.” She tapped the console and looked up to Governor Myint.

Governor Myint set the pistol onto a table and nodded. “What luck,” he said with a wry smile. “For this colony to have a shepherd like you.”

Natyasha straightened herself up and felt the insult hit her. She shrugged it off and stood as proud as she could.
Vichy
. The word hit her and she had vague memories of the feeling behind the word.
Vichy
. France? she wondered. They did what they had to, better to rule under occupation then suffer the brutality of an occupier ruling. “Indeed,” she replied dryly.

“Get the
Gallipoli
,” Governor Myint snapped.

A single panel of the multifaceted display blinked black and showed a comms pending indicator. To the left of it, a screen showed an orbital plot with the
Gallipoli
, an unnamed UC ship and a larger ship approaching near the elevator. The
Gallipoli
was on the opposite side of the planet from the elevator but on the right side to come in before the UC ship.

Green flared into yellow and Mustafa’s mustached face stared back. “What?” His face was ringed in sweat with dried blood caked on the bridge of his nose. Behind him the space was dark with a crackle of arcing electricity.

“Status?”

Mustafa scrunched his face and glanced above the camera. “One more pass. They’re toothless now. But that dropship is gonna get those pods off.”

“Unacceptable,” Governor Myint snapped. “Disregard the UC ship, stop those capsules!”

“What? You stop the damned troops on the ground. That UC ship isn’t out of the fight yet!”

“I thought you said it was toothless?” Governor Myint replied in a low tone. His eyes glared at Mustafa.

“For now,” Mustafa replied. “But—”

“Hit the dropship.”

“They’ll get some capsules away,” Mustafa said.

“Priests and nuns? We can handle that,” Natyasha said.

Governor Myint turned and looked to Natyasha. “Nuns? Priests?” He raised his chin and looked up at the screen. “Wait and engage both, we’ll handle those capsules on the ground.”

Mustafa turned away from the camera, spoke to someone, and looked back. “They’ll get about half of the pods out, but we should be able to work it.”

“Excellent. We’ll be up with the ship’s master. Once the UC ship is destroyed, you will escort us out.”

Mustafa nodded slowly.

“We’re leaving?” Natyasha added quickly.

Governor Myint spoke something in another language and the staff began to shut everything down. He looked to Natyasha. “No,
we’re
leaving. If the troops on the ground can settle this then we shall return.”

Natyasha felt her heart drop and grasped the edge of a console for support. “But I did what you wanted! I’m committed!” Her eyes snapped around the room and saw uncaring faces focusing on other tasks. By the time she looked over, Governor Myint was almost out of the room. “What do I do?”

He stopped and smoothed out his coat. His dark eyes looked up at the display and back down to Natyasha. “I suggest you find a weapon and help defend this complex.”

“But—”

Governor Myint spoke to Mustafa. “If this complex falls, you are to bombard the elevator.”

“Affirmative,” Mustafa said slowly and glanced at Natyasha. His eyes looked conflicted, but just for a moment. He nodded and the feed cut out.

Natyasha stood on shaky legs and watched as the staff streamed out. Everything and now this, she thought. “Damn all of you.”

A pair of soldiers escorted two men through the space after Governor Myint. One was mostly bald with skin thin like onion paper. The other wore the sallow eyed look of an addict struggling out from the bad side of a recovery. The old one walked proudly and regarded Natyasha with a casual glance. Then she was the only one left.

She felt betrayed but knew that wasn’t the right feeling. No, she thought, right feeling, wrong word. She glanced over at the pistol Myint had left. Two steps and she hefted it.

Loud thumping sounds echoed through the complex. A higher pitched sound came in just after. A sound she knew well, as did everyone else on the planet. The sound of the elevator rising.

Natyasha felt the weight in her hand and walked out into the wide hallway. Never before had she felt so alone, but never before had she felt so right. She glanced down at the blocky firearm and walked towards the sound of the fighting. She saw a single human officer leading a platoon of the bioaugments and watched it go by. No, she thought, I think I’ll wait here.

––––––––

Bark stared down at the ground and shook with anger.

“What now?” Emilie yelled to Bark above the sound of gunfire. She stayed down below the edge of a concrete embankment. “Bark

Bark looked up with eyes that were ringed in tears and bracketed by cheeks of rose. Her voice choked for a moment as if unable to find the words.

Gunfire sounded in the distance, faint and sporadic. The makeshift militia had surged out to the edge of the complex and stood in the grime covered streets. Eyes looked back to the sky expecting more violence to rain down. A thin mist trailed down and seeped into the silt.

They had all stopped and listened to the broadcast. Every pocket cell hummed and sang the message. Emilie felt eyes on her as Core was mentioned, but ignored it all. The memory of the bombardment was too fresh for Natyasha Dousman’s words to stand.

She scanned the streets and saw everyone at a standstill, leaderless. “Bark?”

Bark looked up and locked her eyes onto Emilie.

“We need to move.”

“I know.”

“Now.” Emilie glanced at the crowds. They all seemed to be watching her and Bark. Far in the distance, more gunfire sounded.

“Bark?”

Bark stood quickly and pointed her finger at a group of mud streaked survivors. “You!” she said to the only surviving militia soldier from the truck.

“Me?” he called back. He sprinted across the street and nearly fell on the slick pavement. “What?”

“Name?”

“Pavel Gregorivic.”

“Pavel,” she said and nodded. “Get a truck, fill it with people, and get more weapons. Take half a dozen that are armed, too.”

Pavel nodded and ran back to the group where he came from. They broke off and ran down the street. He stopped a dozen meters away. “Where do I go then?”

“Just listen, follow the explosions,” Bark called back.

Pavel smiled and gave a sloppy salute and ran after the rest of his group.

Bark stood and hefted her weapon into the crook of her arm. She glanced back and forth down the street. Immigrants stretched along the battered wall of the complex. They wore mismatched body armor and recovered weapons. “Anyone who’s served, come to me!”

Men and women ran forward, hunched low, and crouched near Bark. She glanced down at them all and seemed to weigh each before looking to the next.

Emilie took them in and saw angry faces, wounds, blood, and mud. She knew what they felt: betrayal, anger, with just a taste of freedom.

“Break up into squads,” she said. “Dozen or so to each of you, make sure everyone has at least one heavy rifle. Priority is the brutes.” Her voice was level, professional, without a hint of anger. “We’re heading for the elevator. For now, we hold them there.”

Heads nodded around her.

“If you find a transport, load up whoever you can. If you meet militia, tell ‘em you’re with Bark.”

“What about them?” a woman asked with a thumb pointing towards a corpse who wore the uniform of Malic’s men.

Bark looked at the corpse and nodded. “Engage.”

They nodded and grasped weapons.

“Go, form ‘em up. If you get cells, dial my number, that’s how we’ll coordinate.” Bark rattled off a quick string of numbers and watched them go.

“That’s it?” Emilie asked, feeling that it was anticlimactic.

Bark looked down the long road heading towards the elevator, eyes squinting. “Yup, that’s it.”

“If we can get inside the complex I can get drones on the field,” Emilie said. She felt the waves of exhaustion and adrenaline wash over her.

“Drones?”

“We have them, but without a neural net we can’t do anything with them.”

Cracks of gunfire sounded in the distance, but the silence that hung seemed out of place.

“Where’s the bombardment?” Emilie asked. It was overdue, she could feel it in her bones.

The ragged group moved slowly at first. Unsure and unstable like a wobbling giant. At every dirty alley they gained more confidence, more speed, but not a single bit more grace. The group plodded forward as quickly as the wounds would allow. Some lurched farther and snapped back towards the mob.

Mob, Emilie thought. A mob. This is not an army, it’s a riot with a goal. She turned to speak to Bark and saw her engaged on her cell. She wanted to ask how they would engage and then she knew.

The group of Hun soldiers was pitched up inside of a low apartment building. The first round struck a man in the throat and sprayed blood onto the street. People scattered towards alleys, doorways, anywhere with cover. Some had no idea where it came from and paid the toll as automatic weapons fired into the groups.

“Cover!” Bark screamed.

Emilie leaped over a concrete embankment and followed Bark. The two huddled behind a delivery vehicle with four flat tires. “What now?”

Bark flipped out her cell. “Move one street to either side. Keep moving.”

Emilie watched the groups dissipate and melt away. “What are you doing?”

Bark cocked her head. “Not getting into a thirty minute firefight with three soldiers. We need to lock them down into that complex.”

Emilie was angry for a second and then took a breath. “Your lead.”

“Yes. Yes it is.”

The streets were slick with silt and mud. Eyes watched from above inside of the apartments. Those on the ground glanced up warily but continued forward. Some streamed out from the buildings and took position. Bark hollered out to some she knew. They were gaining strength, but the elevator complex grew in the distance.

More gunfire echoed out from ahead. The heavy
tut-tut
sounds of autocannons slowed the approach. Emilie felt the hairs rise on the back of her neck and jogged closer to the sides of the street. No one moved in the middle of the road. Everyone hunched forward and prepared.

Stacks of cargo containers loomed up and signaled that the elevator complex was coming near. As if the giant black ribbon disappearing into the clouds wasn’t enough of a reminder. A loud crack rang out and a woman crumpled to the ground.

Emilie sprinted forward and slid in next to a corrosion streaked container that wore blocky letters that said WALMART. Then she heard the gunfire exploding all around her. She didn’t even try to peek up. A woman next to her fired an automatic. Emilie could taste the nanite propellant in her mouth. “What is it?” she asked.

The woman finished firing the clip and slid back against the bluish container. “Why don’t you look?”

Emilie leaned forward a bit and felt a heavy hand on her shoulder. She glanced back and saw Bark with her cell to her ear and a stern look on her face.

“Don’t,” Bark said, in a quick pause, and continued speaking into the cell.

The surge of the rabble halted against the first lines of Hun troops. Cracks and sporadic fire popped between the two groups with each side testing the other. Bodies lay broken on the mud slicked street with only the mist running down their faces.

Then they dropped down.

Emilie didn’t notice anything until the screams sounded from behind her. She whipped her head back and saw a hairless apelike creature with a stubby submachine gripped in arms too long. It swung the weapon and fired wildly at the crouched militia. She scrambled to the side and reached out to move the woman next to her.

The woman slumped down dead. The front of her scalp flopped forward.

Emilie shrieked and fell back into Bark. Bark dropped the cell and swung out her weapon but the creature was already buckled over with gunfire.

More of the humanoids dropped down. Some crashed and scattered with broken legs while others collided with light poles and cars. But the few who rained down burst out with vengeance.

The sounds of the high rate bursts of the submachine guns rang out all around. Cries and screams followed bursts of the lower pitched additive cell produced weapons.

Bark grabbed the cell and dialed on the face frantically. “Fuck,” she cried out angrily and frantically punched in more numbers. “Hold and cover! Deal with it and get ready.”

The assault ground to a standstill. Too many groups of uncoordinated soldiers all waited for commands. The breakdown of communication was becoming painfully obvious as no one wanted to advance without the cover from others.