Pax Imperia (The Redemption Trilogy) (42 page)

“Well,” Gunny scratched his cheek, trying to think how to explain. However, his explanation was cut short by the sound of exploding glass high above them.

The two men watched wordlessly as, with a desperate cry, a body was flung out of the window. It seemed to hang motionless in the air for a moment, as if attempting to fly, before it hurtled down the thirty-odd floors to the ground. That strange Doppler shift effect caused his screams of fear and terror to fade in and out, before finally he hit the ground. Or would have, had a small, single-person transport pod not been parked where it was. The body of the man—as they could now clearly see it was a man—crashed through the roof of the pod, and was then still.

“Well that’s something you don’t see every day,” Gunny quipped. ‘That’s our signal.” Turning back to the company of marines, who were currently taking cover behind surrounding buildings, he called out. “Okay marines, move out.”

“This is going to be a cakewalk,” Gunny pronounced confidently. Then, when still a dozen meters away from the building, the darkened glass façade collapsed outwards, revealing over a dozen guards, all heavily armed with a mixture of pulse rifles and assault weaponry. Suddenly they opened fire, their heavy weapons spitting out volley after volley of gunfire, causing the marines to dive for cover. They had barely hit the ground before further sounds of breaking glass could be heard all around them. Gunny looked up in shock to observe windows being smashed out on the second and third floor of the surrounding buildings, and gun barrels being poked out of the windows. They opened fire moments later, joining the already heavy gunfire from the front, once again causing the marines to try and take shelter under whatever cover that they could find.

“Those bastards,” Gunny ranted, sheltering his considerable bulk behind another personal transport that was parked along the side of the street.

“Looks like we didn’t have the element of surprise on our side,” Frasier observed, snapping off a shot.

“Screw the element of surprise,” Gunny cursed. “Those bastards stole my idea for this ambush from Eden Prime. The least they could do is to come up with their own, original idea and stop stealing them from others.” Gunny cursed again as now they were outgunned, the enemy had the high ground
and
they were surrounded. “Can this day get any worse?” he asked rhetorically, forgetting the first rule of the battlefield that if it could, it would.

“Incoming,” a marine screamed as a massive bolt of pulse cannon fire passed feet above the barricade that he had been sheltering behind. Gunny looked up from behind the vehicle that he was hiding behind and swore loudly.

“Problem Gunny?” Frasier inquired, too busy trying to pick-off any targets of opportunity to hazard a glance.

“Yeah you could say that,” Gunny replied, pointing in the direction of the building. “They’ve got a tank.”

Frasier turned around, open-mouthed, as the tank came into view, hovering a few feet from the ground. The thrusters that kept it in the air glowed brightly as it pulled out from the underground garage. Its wide-barrelled pulse cannon opening fire once again, this time at the small personal transport that the two were hiding behind.

“That could be a problem.”

*****

Reaching Paul’s side, Jon hauled him to his feet. “Glad to see that you’re still alive.”

“No thanks to you,” Paul cursed. “This pistol is empty.” He tossed away the useless weapon in a fit of pique.

“What? You thought I was going to leave you with a loaded pistol, so you could blow your own head off? I don’t think so,” Jon shook his head in disbelief. “Can you imagine the scene when I got back to
Terra Nova
and Carol asks, teary eyed, how you died? If I say you blew your own head off with a pistol that I gave you, she would kill me. Hell the rest of the crew would probably help hold me down while she did it. Not likely.”

“So what happened to Atherton and his bunch of hired guns?”

“He dropped out,” Jon replied distractedly. “I noticed that there are some VIP quarters on the floor above us. Let’s give one of them a try. With a little luck we’ll find an emergency first-aid kit for you in one of them.”

“But what about what happened between Sofia and I?” Paul replied, never expecting to have to face the consequences of his earlier confession.

“I try and not think about it. The mental image.” Jon shuddered. “However, when we get back I think you and Marcus need to take a paternity test; you know the two of you look awfully alike.”

Paul was so shocked by this pronouncement that he came to an abrupt halt. “I need to do
what
? No way. I’m not Marcus’ father. It’s impossible.”

“Glad to hear that you practice safe sex,” Jon quipped.

“Sex? It was nothing like that. I mean we kissed and then she fell asleep in my arms. I was hardly going to wake her up and kick her out in that state. Who knows who else she was going to throw herself at next?”

“Very chivalrous of you,” Jon laughed.

Paul narrowed his eyes, noticing Jon’s lips upturned in amusement. “You knew. You knew all along.”

“Yep,” Jon acknowledged. “Sofia told me all about it. It’s not as if we
never
talked. She told me you're a pretty good kisser by the way. I wonder if you told Carol about it?” At the guilty expression on Paul’s face, Jon laughed again. “Oh the opportunities for blackmail are endless.”

“I cannot believe it. Do you know how many years I carried that burden of guilt around with me?”

“Should’ve told me earlier then,” Jon chided him. “Here we go, let’s try this one,” he pronounced, the door sliding open at their approach. Jon gently lowered Paul onto the bed before explaining. “Stay here. I’ll go and see if I can find an emergency medical kit.”

Rummaging around in the small cupboard in the adjoining washroom, he was relieved to finally spot the small case, adorned with a single red cross. Snapping it open he was thankful that it seemed to be comprehensive enough to stabilise Paul’s injury, at least until they got him to some proper medical facilities. Observing the tiny sink, quickly dismissing it as too small to clean Paul’s wound, Jon opened the door to the shower to activate the spray.

Instead he stumbled back in shock at the sightless blue eyes that were staring back at him accusingly. Jon did not need to look past the pretty face, blue eyes and long blond hair of the deceased to recognise her. The accusing expression was also justified, considering he was indirectly responsible for her husband’s death. Closing her eyes, Jon covered the naked body of Captain Harrison’s wife with a towel, unable to do anything else for her.

“Did you find it?” Paul asked when he re-entered the bedroom a few minutes later.

Jon nodded, tossing the medical kit onto the bed. “That’s not all that I found,” he said quickly describing the scene in the washroom.

“What about their daughter?” Paul asked.

“She could be anywhere—” Jon started to reply, when a quiet sob interrupted him, coming from underneath them.

The two men slowly peered under the bed, seeing the pair of terrified blue eyes, staring back at them.

*****

“Contact right,” a marine cried out.

“Contact left,” yelled another.

“This is like the most disastrous rescue mission in the history of rescue missions,” Frasier muttered, letting loose a short burst from his assault rifle at one of the troops who had ducked out from inside the now bullet-ridden lobby of the opposing building. He nodded approvingly as one of the rounds caught the man on the shoulder, spinning him around.

“Look on the bright side,” Gunny smirked, firing repeated volleys of gunfire in all directions, trying to keep their assailants under cover, and hence not shooting at them. “If we’re lucky the Commander will arrive soon, to come and rescue us.”

“Incoming!” another marine yelled, diving out from behind a transport pod, as another bolt of pulse fire from the tank impacted into the side of it. The pod instantly exploding into a ball of flame, smoke and deadly shrapnel.

“I’m really starting to hate that thing,” Frasier muttered darkly. Deciding to do something about it, he unclipped one of the multiple grenades that he carried on his tactical armour. Priming it, he tossed it in the direction of the tank.

With a
click
it bounced off the front of the tank, exploding into a ball of light, heat and sound. The next thing he knew he was being dragged by Gunny out from behind the vehicle they had been sheltering behind. Through the smoke and fire a whirling sound could be heard, and the long barrel of the tank appeared, penetrating through the gloom. It paused for a moment before, with a
boom
, the pod that only moments before they had been hiding behind disappeared into flaming wreckage.

“Let’s not go making it any more angry than it already is,” Gunny cautioned him.

*****

“Where the hell are Gunny and our marines?” Paul demanded exasperatedly. “Having not heard from us, they should be here by now.”

Both men peered around the corner of the corridor, but nobody appeared. “You know, in the movies, that is usually the point when the cavalry arrives,” Jon sighed.

“Looks like we’ll have to walk,” Paul said pointing to an arrow, directing them to the nearest emergency exit.

Two flights of stairs later, with another twenty-eight to go, Jon stopped, panting. “I’m getting to old for this.”

“You’re just out of shape. You’ve gone soft.”

“You try carrying her down two flights of stairs,” Jon motioned to the little girl he was carrying in his arms, who had a death grip around his neck. “Stuff this. We’ll take the elevator.”

*****

Jon and Paul stood restlessly, with Paul having finality managed to convince the little girl to relax her death grip around Jon long enough for him to carry her. The two of them watched the elevator count down from the twenty-sixth floor impatiently.

“Don’t you have an Empire to run?” Paul finally asked.

“I delegated responsibility.”

“You did? To whom?”

“Lieutenant Castlebeck.”

Paul thought for a moment, “That young, cute, brunette who is always on the data-nets?”

“Yep, that’s her.”

“You don’t think she’s little young for the job? You know, to be running an Empire?”

“She’s doing a great job keeping the media at bay. I told her if in doubt to just make it up. After all, it seemed to work fine for the Senate. She told me she is thinking about rolling out a free universal healthcare plan for all.”

“Sounds expensive.”

“Probably, but then I need to talk with my accountant. I’m fairly sure that as Emperor I am now officially tax-exempt. If not, I’ll just declare myself as such.” Paul gave him an evil look. “I’m thinking of giving her a raise however, you know, to account for the additional responsibility,” Jon added.

With a
ping
the elevator arrived at the ground floor and the doors slid open.

“Stay here. I’ll make sure that it’s safe to proceed,” Jon cautioned, taking a step out into the lobby. On their arrival he had observed the ultra-modern lobby, with black marble surfaces, darkened glass and expensive holo-projectors showing a wide variety of incredibly expensive pieces of art owned by the company. Currently he could see none of it. Instead his sight could barely penetrate a few meters, through the haze and gloom that seemed to have engulfed the room. Then suddenly the wind picked up clearing the air. Jon was amazed at the destruction wrought all around him. Every surface was covered with bullet pockmarks; all the furniture had long since been destroyed, the holo-projectors now completely gone.

Furthermore he noticed the dozens of soldiers, all wearing dark tactical armour, heavily armed, with their backs to him, guns pointed forwards. One-by-one they turned to look at him, with a mixture of surprise and astonishment.

“Uh sorry,” Jon uttered. “Wrong floor.” Taking a hurried step backwards into the elevator, he hammered frantically on the door close button, relieved when the doors finally slid shut. At Paul’s confused expression, he explained, “They’re all busy at the moment. We’ll come back later.”

*****

“Stay here and keep them busy,” Gunny urged Captain Frasier. “I’ll go and get some help.”

“Keep them occupied?” Frasier replied in disbelief. “How do you expect me to do that? They have us surrounded.”

Gunny simply patted him on the back. “You’ll do fine,” he said, tossing the Captain his rifle. Ducking his head he sprinted back in the direction they had come from, running a gauntlet of bullets, pulse rifle fire, exploding shells, grenades and everything in between until he finally arrived, breathlessly, back at the shop.

“Where the hell did they put the damn thing?” Gunny shouted, tossing another box of spare ammunition out of his way. “Seriously, it’s like ten feet tall. It’s hardly as if you can miss—a-ha.” He grinned, having finally found what he was looking for. His muscles bulging as he prised off the front of the huge crate. A few moments after he stepped into the darkened crate, a whirring noise could be heard, followed soon after by the sight of two bright, glowing, red eyes illuminating the darkness.

*****

“I’ve heard of target rich environments but this is a joke,” Frasier cursed, firing again and again until the clip ran dry, then reaching for his last spare. “Seriously, this is like goddamn whack-a-mole. You kill one and ten more popup. Where the hell is Gunny—”

A thundering roar behind him had him turning in astonishment, to see the door, shop front and a good part of the surrounding building demolished as the nine-foot mechanical monster tore itself free from the building.

“Holy shit,” Frasier breathed, for the first time in his life coming face-to-face with a fully functional suit of marine assault armour. Before then he had only seen models in museums or on holo-vids, as the armour had been banned years before by public outcry from the indiscriminate destruction and collateral damage that they caused. He watched in awe as the mechanical beast hefted a pulse cannon so large it could only have come from some fighter or assault craft.

The battlefield suddenly fell silent, all eyes on the massive armoured exoskeleton as it dug itself free from the building. As the hush fell all around, the pulse cannon it was brandishing opened fire, breathing a continuous stream of green, ionised-plasma. The charged particles tore into one side of the building, where the marines had been taking fire from the second and third floors. The bolts shredded glass, steel and concrete indiscriminately and the front façade of the building exploded, shredding anyone and everything with flying pieces of glass and other shrapnel. However, the stream of weapon-fire did not stop but, instead, continued on to the next floor where the death and destruction was repeated on an even larger scale. Even then the superheated charged particles continued to eat into the building, Gunny focusing his aim on the large loadbearing columns found on both floors—