Galactic Council Realm 3: On Guard Read online

Page 11


  He had his pistol half way out of the holster and Tuulia moved aside and was aiming her pistol. The last thing I needed was a loud gun fight drawing attention to our position.

  “Don’t shoot,” I yelled as I raced the short distance across the hallway.

  A well trained Marine or Sailor would have held her fire. Tuulia wasn’t trained. She was a thinker, planner, and master of extreme space navigation. And she was riding an adrenaline rush. She fired twice before I reached her.

  One second she was participating in the OK Corral, the next she was standing with empty hands. I dropped her pistol and dove on the Constabulary trooper. While the combat vest had prevented the kinetic rounds from entering his body, the force of the rounds had driven him to the ground.

  He saw only a man and a woman standing in front of him. His intent was to clear the holster and shoot them. There was no way he was ready for the invisible arm lock that dislocated his shoulder. Or the invisible legs that locker around his neck. The neck snapped and I untangled from the dead trooper.

  “Why did you take my gun?” Captain Tuulia shrieked.

  “So you wouldn’t shoot me,” I said pulling the dead trooper’s pistol.

  I scooped up Tuulia’s and handed her that one while shoving the newly acquired pistol into Haitham’s hand.

  “Up the ramp now,” I said, “Double time. I believe we’ve lost the element of surprise.”

  Far down the hallway, I could hear troopers yelling out, assuring the next post that ‘all was well’. When they called out for this post to report, there wouldn’t be a report. The bodies at our original entrance would draw attention. But a no response from here would give a Constabulary squad a direction. I didn’t want my Captains and me to be here when they arrived.

  Suddenly, there was shouting from the other direction. Now I had troopers closing in from two directions. What had caused the alarm from the other side of the stadium? I didn’t have time to figure it out. I turned from the body and chased after the Captains.

  They’d cleared the first ramp and I caught a glimpse of them as they made the turn onto the last ramp. Hopefully Warlock had been successful and we’d rally on the upper level.

  There were two Constabulary troopers lying dead at the bottom of the last ramp. I vaulted them and picked up the pace. Now I could see the Captains at the top of the ramp speaking with a Marine Staff Sergeant and a Navy Chief Petty Officer. The NCOs’ uniforms were ripped and they both had bloody knuckles and bruises on their faces. They both held pistols in their hands. I now understood who had caused the commotion on the other side of the stadium. But, where was Warlock?

  I waited before speaking or pulling back my hood until I was standing beside the Marine. When the cowl fell away, I suddenly appeared.

  “Staff Sergeant. Where’s Master Sergeant Alberich?” I asked the astonished Marine.

  “That’s Lieutenant Piran,” said Haitham introducing me before the Marine or the Navy NCO could react.

  It’s never a good idea to spring a surprise on someone in a combat situation. I was grateful to the Captain.

  “Master Sergeant Alberich is around the bend at the other ramp,” the Marine answered, “With Master Sergeant Tereza. She said to hold the ramp until you arrived.”

  “Which one said that?” I asked out of curiosity.

  “Does it matter?” the Staff Sergeant said with a smile.

  So Warlock had dragged three NCOs along. Well, getting seven people out couldn’t be any more difficult than evacuating six. We either could or couldn’t.

  I grabbed Captain Haitham and we jogged around the bend and found a woman shorter and narrower than the Striker team leader.

  “Master Sergeant Tereza. I’m Lieutenant Piran,” I said introducing myself, “Where’s Warlock?”

  She stared at my black pajamas.

  “It’s a long story,” I said, “Where is...”

  “She’s at the entrance to the arena,” she interrupted me while pointing to a pair of blackout curtains.

  I shoved aside the curtains and found Warlock looking down at the stage far below. This high up, the surrounding seats were empty.

  “An extra NCO?” I asked stepping up and looking over the rail.

  “Staff NCO,” Warlock corrected.

  “Enough said,” than indicating the stage, I asked, “Anything interesting from Councilor Jalal?”

  Far below our vantage point, the stage was small but it was easy enough to see Nolwenn, Elder of the Druids on Planet Tres, sitting to the right of the speaker. I felt bad knowing a Druid elder had gone political. At least his association would protect the Druids on planet Tres. Or so I hoped. I also knew why the Admiral wanted Warlock and me backstage. To have, Constabulary troops arrest us.

  “I believe Lt., you’re just in time for the grand finale,” Warlock muttered.

  “And so, with the unrest in the Realm and the uncertain loyalties of some citizens,” Jalal announced from the stage, “We here on Tres have been proactive. To assure we weed out the undesirables, everyone on planet Tres, or visiting planet Tres will be required to submit to a loyalty test. That of course includes, members of the military.”

  There was grumbling from a few seats. Probably people who like, Captain Tuulia, didn’t drink anything since they’d arrived at the stadium. In response to the discontent, Constabulary units filed in from the entrances and took up positions in the aisles.

  “Please, please, this isn’t permanent,” Councilor Jalal pleaded, “We’ll begin the test first thing in the morning. Right now, we have dinner service. Rest assured, we’ll have those who pass the test back to your duty stations by day after tomorrow.”

  “Day after tomorrow,” I repeated through clutched teeth, “By then, General Brigitte’s fleet will be in orbit around Tres.”

  “And the Empress will have added a BattleShip to her fleet,” Warlock said with more venom.

  “Not if we can help it,” I offered, “Let’s see if Thunder Eagle has found us a way out.”

  On the level below us, the sounds of boots shuffling on concrete grew louder. What saved us from a battle was the thoroughness of the Constabulary troops. The noise started and stopped frequently. Apparently, so they could search the restrooms and storage closets on the level below us. They grew closer to the ramp after each inspection.

  Warlock and I pushed aside the blackout curtain. The Master Sergeant and the Captain were focused on the ramp and didn’t see the door to a supply room ease open.

  Warlock reached out and dropped her hand, palm down. The door closed.

  “Thunder Eagle is here,” Warlock announced with a hint of pride.

  “You go check on the escape plan and I’ll round up the rest of the command staff,” I stated with sarcasm.

  “Aye, Sir, you do that,” she replied as she walked towards the supply room door.

  I pulled the Staff Sergeant, the Chief Petty Officer and Captain Tuulia from their ramp. We converged on Captain Haitham and Master Sergeant Tereza’s location.

  “Captains, you’re first out. I’ll bring up the rear,” I instructed, “So, I’ll need your pistols.”

  “You really don’t want me armed, do you?” Haitham asked.

  “Sir, I want you in control and fighting a BattleShip,” I said, gently taking his weapon, “Not in a gunfight.”

  Tuulia offered her pistol with no hesitation.

  The supply room door opened and Warlock stuck her arm out.

  “Warlock and Thunder Eagle are your guides,” I said pointing to the open door, “I’ll see you up top. Go.”

  The assembled crew quick timed it to Warlock and disappeared into the supply room. I pulled down the Knight’s hood and headed down the ramp to buy them some time.

  As I suspected, the Constabulary had left troops along accesses to the arena and at each restroom and supply room door. With the areas behind them secured, the search was approaching the ramp. I didn’t want them searching the upper level. What I needed was for them to re-
search the areas behind them.

  It felt odd fast walking down the center of the level. Troopers watching but not seeing me; me strutting invisibly between teams of armed men. I moved five arena entrances down before shooting the guards at the sixth entrance. Then, I turned my weapons on the troops at the fifth entrance.

  I paused long enough for the troops I’d passed to begin closing on the entrance. Once I was sure they had a good view, I grabbed the blackout curtains and made a show of waving them around. One trooper shouted about the gunman escaping into the arena. That was the reaction I wanted. All along the concourse, the guards stopped searching and vanished into the nearest arena entrance.

  There were just a few troops remaining in the hallway and they were holding at their assigned posts. I slipped by them. At the ramp, I sprinted all the way up, stopping only when I arrived at the supply room door.

  An open ceiling tile gave me a heading. I reset it once I’d climbed up. I wasn’t sure how Thunder Eagle had herded the crew. Narrow beams and cross ties held up a maze of air handling ducts and a suspended ceiling. For me, it wasn’t difficult as my Knight’s cowl illuminated where they’d put their feet. I stepped carefully on a beam and followed.

  A few minutes later, I found a rope ladder. Looking up, I could see a small square of stars in the night sky. At the top of the rope, my head poked out of an open access hatch. Thunder Eagle was sitting on the dome beside the hatch.

  “Evening, J-Pop,” she said calmly.

  “How did you know I was here?” I asked because I was still in my Knight’s gear.

  “Tension on the rope ladder,” she replied, “We’re taught that in SNO training. It helps when you’re operating in the dark.”

  “Where are they?” I asked while pulling myself onto the surface of the dome.

  “Sitting on the edge of the dome with Warlock and Fire Dove,” she said, “We’re waiting for Stone Angel and Heavy Rain to arrive with transportation and firepower.”

  I set down the pistols to free my hands so I could strip off my Knight’s gear. They began to slide. Thunder Eagle rolled over, snatched the pistols and came up on her feet.

  “Sorry, I didn’t realize it was so steep,” I said, and added to try and recover some dignity, “Firepower? What kind of resistance are we facing?”

  “The stadium is ringed by Constabulary troops,” she said with no inflection.

  “So we get out, but now, we can’t get away?” I asked.

  “Not until Stone Angel and Heavy Rain arrive with transportation,” she repeated.

  “And firepower,” I said finishing her sentence.

  Chapter 13

  The dome carried a steep pitch and I scooted towards the crewmembers. Thunder Eagle stayed to pull up the ladder and secure the hatch. She caught up with and passed me as she strolled down the grade. I shook my head at the skill of the Striker while I continued to pick my way down.

  I made it to the cluster of people and stopped far from the edge. It was a story and a half to the street below. Out of caution, I left room between the edge and the group.

  Warlock was squatting on the edge with Fire Dove on her right. Thunder Eagle joined them and took a position on her heels on the team leader’s left. The three actually looked comfortable on the perch. Behind them, the crewmembers looked less settled, balanced on the steep roof.

  We waited for ten minutes.

  Long enough for Captain Tuulia to lean back and asked me, “Is it logical to just sit here? Could someone on the street see us?”

  Before I could formulate a reply, the Strikers’ PIDs buzzed, as well as mine.

  ‘1 minutes out,’ the message read, ‘Catch and secure.’

  We heard a truck’s engine as it ground into a lower gear. It rattled until the noise stopped. Fire Dove and Thunder Eagle stepped away from Warlock. All three retreated from the edge of the dome.

  A ripple of apprehension ran through the crewmembers. We didn’t know what the truck was doing or who was driving.

  ‘Fire in the hole,’ my PID announced.

  Two unspooling rope lines came sailing over the edge of the dome. Fire Dove caught one and Thunder Eagle the other. A third item, a canvas bag, arched into view and Warlock caught it.

  I was fascinated by their actions, and relaxed. It seemed the Strikers had our escape well-orchestrated. Even if I didn’t know the actual mechanics of it. I was relaxed until the buzzing of a mini-gun broke the quiet of the night.

  Warlock was busy pulling things from the bag which she tossed to her left and right side Sky elements. I ignored her and crept to the edge to see.

  Below, a large truck was backed up onto the sidewalk. Over the cab, Heavy Rain stood behind a mini-gun. He swung first to his right spraying bullets. After a sweep of that side, he ceased firing, rotated the barrel to his left and resumed firing. It was a terrible defensive position. Once the Constabulary figured out the rotation, they could maneuver forward while he faced away for them.

  On the back of the truck, Stone Angel was just standing. I looked over to Warlock and she also was just standing. Fire Dove and Thunder Eagle, however, were pounding long spikes into the dome. The ropes had been tied to the spikes. Once the spikes were driven in, the Strikers tossed thin lines over the edge. Stone Angel snagged the lines and tied them to something laying at his feet. He jerked both lines and climbed off the top of the truck.

  Fire Dove and Thunder Eagle began pulling on the lines and a fiber sheet appeared. While the fabric was hoisted, Stone Angel went to the rear of the truck and lowered a steel power ramp. Once the ramp was half way to the ground it stopped and he snatched an automatic weapon from the truck bed.

  A Constabulary trooper rushed forward while Heavy Rain was aiming the mini in the other direction. He stopped and took aim. Stone Angel put a round into his head. The aggressive trooper fell.

  The fabric sheet followed the ropes which were woven into the sides of the material. I was still puzzled as to the plan, but a glance at Warlock told me we were on schedule. She actually looked bored.

  The leading edge of the fabric slipped over the edge of the dome. Warlock without a word pointed at Thunder Eagle. The Left Side Sky element took two steps and launched herself off the dome. I stopped breathing as the athletic woman tossed out her arms in a perfect swan dive. Half way down the fabric, she reached out and grabbed the side of the material. Using it to slow her descent, Thunder Eagle grabbed and released, grabbed and released. Finally, near the top of the truck and the end of the fabric, she grabbed one last time. When she let go, her feet gently touched down.

  Captain Tuulia was also watching and she had a look of horror on her face.

  “I don’t believe, I can do that,” she stammered.

  Fire Dove laughed and said, “No ma’am, we don’t expect you to.”

  Warlock motioned Captain Haitham over to her side. She said a few words and the Captain shuffled to the edge of the dome and stepped off. He fell a meter before the fabric folded around him. When he appeared again, he was being helped to his feet by Thunder Eagle.

  The Strikers had constructed an emergency chute. Amid the gun fire, the tension, the need for speed, and the danger, Captain Tuulia managed to laugh all the way down. Following her, were the Marines and the Chief Petty Officer. I went last.

  As I hit the top of the truck, a short sword appeared in Thunder Eagle’s hand. With one swipe, she cut away the fabric.

  “Time to go J-Pop,” she said with a smile.

  We climbed off the truck and I followed her to the back of the vehicle. Using the half lowered ramp, I climbed into the trailer. The mini-gun fell silent but reports from automatic weapons replaced the buzzing.

  Thunder Eagle was standing on the sidewalk. In the truck bed, the crewmembers and I were wondering why we weren’t moving. Suddenly, Stone Angel came chugging around to the lowered ramp. Cradled in his arms was the mini-gun. He stepped on the ramp and into the truck. The ramp began to rise. Once it was level with the bed of the truck, the ste
el ramp portion snapped up creating a metal shield. Thunder Eagle climbed over the shield as the truck pulled away from the stadium.

  Stone Angel and Thunder Eagle set up the mini-gun facing our rear. As the truck sped through the circle, the stadium began to fade in the distance. However, closing the distance were two pair of headlights racing around the stadium.

  “We’ve got company,” I said to Stone Angel.

  “Aye, Sir, but not for long,” he replied as he fished an ammo drum from the floor and mounted it on the side of the machinegun, “Just give me a second.”

  In the street lights I saw the paint colors of the vehicles chasing us. They were black with wide red and tan stripes. The colors of the Empress’ Royal Constabulary. If I hadn’t been, I was now convinced, Tres was lost to the Empress. There was an army in the city and an enemy fleet on the way.

  “Eaglet. Those are Constabulary vehicles,” I pointed out to Captain Haitham.

  “J-Pop, I wasn’t sure about all this before, but it appears you’re correct,” he said a little sadly, “The Empress’s forces are…”

  His words were drowned out by the buzzing of the mini-gun. The front ends of the two vehicles chasing us crumpled. Both swerved to sliding stops. Our truck turned and we dropped down a ramp to level two.

  Two turns after the ramp, the truck made a sharp turn and drove down another ramp. I was confused and had no idea of our location. Warlock, Heavy Rain and Fire Dove in the cab of the truck knew, I hoped.

  They did and it became apparent when the truck pulled into an alley.

  “Everybody out. Stone Angel, leave the mini,” Warlock ordered as the ramp lowered. We piled out and the team leader pointed us towards the front of the truck.

  There we found a short bus. Fire Dove was slipping on a tour guide jacket and Heavy Rain was sitting in the driver’s seat.