Federation Reborn 2: Pirate Rage (5 page)

She heard screams and shots as she ducked into a sewer tunnel under the building. Brick slimy with mold and such materials she didn't want to contemplate was all about her. The smell made her gag. But that was the least of her concerns. She caught a few looking out a storm drain slit to see their friends being executed. Anyone who wasn't human was stripped, beaten, and then shot. Her eyes teared up as she was pushed by her people to get to safety.

Doctor Zane had sacrificed himself to delay the bastards and let her and the others get away. She closed her eyes in remembered pain. Ted was a damn good doctor and to his luck, human. He might survive capture. She wasn't sure about the suicide protocols built into his implants though. It was best not to think of such things she reminded herself as she made the rounds.

They were in a mine, deep underground. The lights tended to go out; they were dim since they were reliant on power from above. Fortunately, the mine owners had set up a hydroelectric system instead of a diesel generator to provide power.

Here and there batteries were set up to take the load if power dipped. Some were automotive batteries; others were modern superconductors or even a few hyper capacitors they'd managed to grab. They kept the air flowing and the life support running on her worst patients.

They didn't have enough power for the medical replicators however, so everything was back to basics. She'd lived it for the first couple of decades of her career, getting thrown back to it after spending so long with modern medical tools was an unwelcome shock. But they were coping.

What they needed was a steady supply of food. Water they had due to the river feeding the hydroelectrics. Food, however, was in short supply and getting shorter as order and civilization broke down.

A month. Two months? She wasn't sure about time anymore. She hadn't seen the sun in nearly a week. She was tired, beyond dirty, but doing her best. That was all she could do.

---<>))))

Doctor Ted Zane wondered briefly if the others had gotten away okay. He felt the bruises on his face, then his highly trained fingers had dropped to his side to check for more damage. Bruises, he'd lucked out on that score. No broken bones like some of the others. Possible cracks, but he could deal with it.

His implants flashed again. Red, and something tickled at the back of his mind. The red suicide button hovered in his vision on his HUD, but he used his finger to direct his mouse to push it away out of the center of his vision. He didn't want to die. Not yet. Not when there was still hope he'd be left behind and certainly not when he could save lives.

He wasn't sure for how much longer he could hold out however. The thought of rescue had been given up long ago. He stared at the blinking red eyes on his HUD and fought the urge to swallow.

Hopefully it would be painless.

---<>))))

Lieutenant Wilhelm Needlemier grinned in fond memory as he replayed his favorite KEW strike of the day. He had so many, like the one that had pithed a skyscraper or the one that had cratered a dome and blown it apart.

But his all-time favorite had been when the enemy had made it so damn easy. He'd found the red crosses on the buildings easily enough. Normally he would have avoided them, but he'd noticed in a drone feed that one of the biggest wasn't just a military hospital, but it also had staff.
Alien
staff. Aliens, Neos, and humans. Staff and patients. It made him sick to see the intermingling.

He'd sent the coordinates to the Marine platoon. Once they'd cleared the site, he'd waited and watched. Sure enough some fool had moved back in during the night.

The next night he'd brought friends and more friends after that. When he'd judged the place was about as full as it was going to get, he'd targeted the cross on the roof with exquisite care and then dropped his crowbar.

He'd watched it go down with anticipation, and when it hit he'd damn near creamed himself right then and there. The skipper hadn't been on duty, so he'd crowed for a good ten or fifteen minutes with the watch while they replayed the strike over and over.

It had been a good day to be a tactical officer.

Now, he was running out of targets or more accurately, too many, but not the right targets. The herd had been noticeably thinned, but they'd also gone to ground like gophers and rats. It was ever so frustrating.

But it made moments like striking that hospital worth it in the end. He'd probably replay that over and over, maybe even make a best of video for the fleet net to share with the task force and also when they got home.

---<>))))

Six weeks into the occupation Hank arranged a radio broadcast for Nohar. He reluctantly took the microphone and recorded a hopefully rousing speech. At the least it would be infuriating to the enemy.

His message centered on guerrilla war examples, and he emphasized scorched earth tactics. “Don't leave them
anything
! Not a scrap! They are here to loot, pillage, plunder, then burn. Once they get what they want, what's to stop them from dropping
more
rocks? They have shown they are doing it elsewhere, Gotham and Metropolis are shattered! Why do you think they will just take what they leave and go without striking?

“If they are going to break down your door, steal what you have,
rape
your wife and kids while forcing you to watch, then kill you
anyway
, what do you have to lose? I say fight!
Fight
!” he roared, arm clenching the microphone stand hard. He saw Hank open his mouth to protest, but he ignored it. “They only have so many people. The stupid bastards who are sucking up to them are going to be left behind," he hissed. "We'll settle accounts with them later." That little statement might get a few people looking over their shoulder and those on the fence thinking twice. "If they drop a rock, then there is no hiding place, no place in the cities or towns, nor in the country. Make them pay in blood for the friends, family, and neighbors lost! Don't make it easy for them!”

“Remember, we'll get our revenge on those who have helped them. Do you think the pirates will take them with them? No! They are
using
them. They'll take what they want from them, then leave them to hang and laugh as they pull out. They are using your fear against you. They know it, and now so do you. You, me, we have nothing left to lose. Let's take some of the bastards down with us!”

--<>))))

“Where is that transmission coming from?” the Colonel demanded.

“It's a loop, sir.”

“I didn't ask that. I asked
where
?” the Colonel snarled tightly.

“Yes, sir; sorry, sir. It's, um, coming from an inland county on the main continent. Hazzard.”

“Bomb it.”

“Sir? It's … we've already hit everything in the area. It's near the spaceport; your marines picked it over rather thoroughly already. Our orders are to concentrate on the coastlines now. All assets are to be redirected there. Besides, the signal is jumping around all over the place. Even in neighboring counties. It's really elegant. Whoever set this up is a genius,” he said, seeming impressed.

“Then follow my orders and bomb it!” the Colonel urged, eyes flashing in rage. “Bomb everything!”

The private looked up at the Colonel's scowling face then quickly back to his screen. “Sir, um, high command has put a stop on indiscriminate bombing for the moment. They are down on rocks and need time to reload. They said no more than a week or so. They are holding the last shots they have in case of an emergency. I doubt they'll give authorization for this, sir.”

“Damn it to hell …”

“It wouldn't matter, sir; the transmission is set on a relay tower. As I said, it's a loop.”

“It doesn't matter! Anyone who offers resistance should be destroyed instantly! It is the only way for these cowards to learn their place!”

“Sir, we can't be everywhere. Besides, we're already getting resistance. This won't kick up too much more. And we're supposed to be pulling out, right? There is an enemy ship in the system …”

The Colonel seethed and reminded himself he couldn't just shoot the stupid prick to alleviate his anger. His jaw flexed as he tried to get control of his temper. “Do you have any proof of that, Private?”

“It's corporal, um, sir, I, um, no?” he said weakly.

“It's private now. And you damn well better hope those natives are cowering and won't get the balls to pull something. Otherwise I'll drop kick your ass right into the middle of whatever hot spot that gets stirred up. And I damn well might leave you there,” the Colonel snarled over his shoulder as he stalked off.

The newly demoted private winced and then exhaled a long breath he hadn't known he'd taken. Well, that sucked, he muttered.

“Yah think?” a navy tech who'd been sent down to manage the interface asked.

“Oh, shut up and mind your business,” the private grumbled, shaking his head. If he was lucky, he might get through the day without any more problems. He definitely needed to learn to keep his trap shut however.

Maybe … just maybe … if he kept his mouth shut and kept out of sight, he might be able to squeak under the wire? If the Colonel didn't report it to …”

“Decius, what the hell possessed you to piss the boss off??!?” the sergeant bellowed, making him cringe and hunch up in his seat.

No such luck apparently.

--<>))))

For six long weeks T-Bone and Razor led a hell of a defense of their once proud city. Mega City had been a growing metropolis, one rivaling Gotham and Metropolis. Solaximara had been one of the architects of the city, a place for Neos to call their own. Its mayor was a brown domestic Neocat and most of the population was indeed Neo. The city was on the coastline like the other major cities, set up at a major trade route to take advantage of it as much as possible. Before Admiral Irons had come through the star system, it had been a small city. But after the plague it had become a place to rebuild. Neos from all over the planet had emigrated to the city when they'd heard word that the mayor had set up cheaper housing and job opportunities for them.

T-Bone and Razor had been in the law enforcement brigade from the beginning, but they'd run afoul of their boss. They'd been unceremoniously transferred to the city's junkyard out of spite. But instead of becoming bitter, the two cats had found an old Marine attack craft and put her back into service with the parts from the junkyard, Razor's genius engineering, and some light help from the lieutenant governor.

Together they'd waged a vigilante war whenever they felt the calling. The Mayor had dubbed him his SWAT team and had given them carte blanch to operate in the city, much to the ire of the police commander.

When the pirates had come, they'd done their best to keep them at bay. They'd shot down some of the shuttles, even knocked a few KEW strikes off course with Razor's wonder weapons. The enemy wanted the industrial centers and medical research equipment at the heart of the city, so they'd limited their bombardments to surgical strikes against pockets of suspected populations or fighters.

But fuel and munitions for their Bell Ichim 333 Osprey as well as the police enforcer craft were starting to run low. Parts and Razor's wonder weapons were also in short supply. Hope was slowly draining out of the city and with it the population as they slunk off into the wilderness. The city was turning into a virtual ghost town, and there was little that could be done about it.

In a way, the exhausted defenders saw it as a good thing. There was less people to defend. It was also more of an incentive to destroy and use the scorched earth tactics Nohar had talked about during his broadcast to keep the enemy at bay.

The only real hostages in the city was that equipment. But for how long? A lot of people asked that question. Only the pirates had the answer.

Eventually, they would grow impatient and either leave or bomb them into oblivion. But until that time came they would stubbornly hang on and keep fighting.

--<>))))

Mara wished now she'd taken Admiral Irons invitation to go to Pyrax or Antigua. Anywhere but staying on her homeworld to see what the pirate bastards were doing to it and her neighbors. It wasn't just the threat of the pirates. The sea was a harsh mistress. Her people were ever aware of the dangers, including the idea that once they entered the sea's embrace they were a part of her food chain.

No, it was seeing this, seeing everything they'd achieved in such a short time be brought down around them. It tore her heart out. It hadn't quite touched them yet, but the stories were bad enough.

She had found it increasingly hard to get the old, sick, and young off the beaches. There were fortunately few of the sick; the worms had been all but cured by the periodic visits by the navy medics led by Doctor Richards. But the rest, they couldn't go out to sea, and they definitely didn't have the endurance to swim the kilometers to the islands.

The deworming, access to modern medicine, more food, and the increasing changes in her homeworld had made their population virtually explode. There were thousands now, thousands of water dwellers of many different species. Neos like the Selkies and Otters, Chimeras of many different bio forms like herself, and a handful of very shy species that preferred to stay in the depths and avoid contact with the surface dwellers.