The Heart of Matter: Odyssey One (71 page)

“Well, they’ve got
something
that turns the ceramic stuff of yours into freaking dust,” Sean said, trying to analyze the situation. Before he could say anything else, however, three of his team’s icons went red.

Sean froze, half turning, then looked back. “Stay put.”

He didn’t wait for a response before he jumped clear, dropping the twenty meters to the ground, even while unslinging
his rifle. He landed hard, letting his suit absorb the energy as it was designed, then used that same energy to power his next move. The leap flung him more forward than up, straight toward where the three red icons were still angrily flashing on his HUD.

He dove through the debris of the fallen buildings, spotting the place where his men had been just as he began the downward arc. Sean toggled into their chatter, using his command codes to force open the mics in their armor, and almost instantly regretted it. Screams filled his ears as his armor picked up the distinctive detonations of explosive rounds cooking off from their guns.

He hit the ground in a slide, throwing his arm out and thrusting down into the powdered mess that had been a solid ceramic mass. He grasped blindly, trying to find either of his missing soldiers. His hand closed around a familiar form, and he shifted his grip quickly to grab the hook on the man’s shoulder before rolling clear and pulling with all the enhanced strength he had.

The man pulled free. Then there was a sudden pull of extra weight, and Sean grunted under the strain. He clawed about, finding another section of pulverized ceramic, and dug his fingers into the edge as leverage before pulling again with even more force.

The weight began to give, and first one soldier’s helm appeared and then his upper torso. Sean kept pulling and quickly saw the reason for the extra weight as the soldier he was pulling on had a death grip on his fellow.

Literally, unfortunately, Sean realized as he pulled them both free of the hole. The first man’s lower body had been sheared off, well beyond even the advanced armor’s ability to maintain any sort of medical treatment.

“Damn,” he hissed, keying straight into the second man’s armor. “God damn it, Simon, you alive in there?”

A moan was all he got, but it was enough for him to redouble his efforts, even while patching over to a wideband channel.

“Command, Bravo Actual!”

“Go for Command, Bravo Actual,” Major Brinks came back instantly, all business.

“I am declaring Trojan Horse!”

“Say again, Bravo Actual.”

“Trojan Horse,” Sean confirmed, pulling Cpl. Simon Bell clear of the pit and rolling over him to unload his pistol magazine into the dust pit the Drasin had dug out. Air support and medevac would be on the way.

Hopefully not in that order.

TERRAN COMMAND AND CONTROL

▸COLONEL REED SWORE at the tactical display, unable to do much else and unwilling to do nothing.

“What does this mean, Trojan Horse?” Ithan Chans asked, confused.

“Trojan Horse is a code phrase. It means that the unit has been overrun,” he answered. “Enemy units mixed in with friendlies. We can’t engage with artillery strikes without hitting our own men. Bermont has called in close air support and medical evac as well as any reinforcements we can spare.”

“This is bad, then?” she asked, her tone making it clearly rhetorical.

He answered her, anyway.

“Extremely. Bermont has basically said that, if he can’t reestablish control of his AO soon, we’ll have to take the area out while he and his men are on-site.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Because he’s a soldier, Ithan,” Reed answered, then shrugged, “and because he knows that if he can’t get control of the area, everyone dies.”

He reached forward, keying open a command channel. “Shuttle Three, I have a tasking for you.”

“Roger, Command. Three is standing by.”

“Proceed to Bravo AO, code Zulu. Deploy your ground teams and proceed to provide close air support. Copy.”

“Copy code Zulu, Bravo AO. Wilco.”

“What do we do now?” Milla asked.

“Nothing. We wait. Until something changes, that’s all we can do. It’s up to the men on the ground now.”

That had been true all through history, though proponents of air superiority might argue it. In the end, there were some things that just had to be decided in the mud.

NACS ODYSSEY, UNCHARTED DYSON CONSTRUCT

▸WITH THE CAPTAIN off the bridge, hopefully sound asleep and getting the rest he was going to need in order to handle what was coming, command was left to Roberts to keep an eye on things as they continued to sling around the star hidden in the center of the Dyson swarm.

“Commander, we have a problem.”

Commander Roberts turned to look at the woman manning the advanced sensors in the place of Lieutenant Winger and glared for a moment. “I presume you mean beyond the fact that we’re currently surrounded by probably more enemy ships than the entire population of Earth?”

“Uh…yes, Commander,” Lamont muttered.

“You may as well lay it on me, then.” He sighed, walking over. Honestly, he didn’t know why he was feeling any surprise at all.
Two missions out, two completely insane situations. Either we’re cursed or we’re blessed. I guess I’ll know which if I live long enough to retire.

“It’s our course, sir. We’re on a collision trajectory with one of the plates.”

Waters half twisted, objecting instantly. “That’s impossible, sir. I triple-checked that course when we slung around the star. It was clean.”

“The inner and outer plates have altered their orbits,” Lamont countered. “I don’t know why…I don’t even know how, but we’re aiming right dead center for one of the inner plates, now.”

“Damn.” Roberts leaned over her to check the calculations, but quickly confirmed them as accurate. “Lieutenant Waters, recheck our course, and start plotting alternate burns to adjust.”

“Aye, sir.”

Roberts shook his head, crossing back from the sensors station to the command station of the
Odyssey
. The captain was sleeping at the moment, taking advantage of the fact that even if they were spotted, it would be hours before anything could happen, but now he had to consider whether to wake him. No, he decided, there was nothing the captain could do yet.

Until they had the new course alterations and predictions, the captain could rest a while longer. With the new information, Roberts was thinking that they would need the man at his station fresh and alert more now than before. No matter what, firing their retrothrusters now would almost certainly warn someone of their presence within the swarm.

Once that happens, we’ll have all hell on our tail and probably a good piece of it sitting right in front of us, too.
Briefly, he wished that they’d just turned tail and ran for it before they entered the godforsaken swarm, but Roberts knew enough about physics to know that the odds would have been even worse then.

To reverse course would have required full CM and a lot of time, given their initial starting velocity. Building delta-v
to escape would have taken so much time that any response from the swarm would have had more than enough time to catch them.

Now, at least, they had momentum going in the right direction. The downside, of course, was that they were
inside
the swarm and may be forced to fight their way out through any response that was mustered to intercept them.

The passing intercept will be shorter, though, than if we tried to run on the way in. We’ll already have considerable velocity, and they’ll have to build from a zero-zero start rather than us having to kill momentum before we could pull away.

He wasn’t convinced that the velocity advantage would quite make up for the fact that they were as deep inside enemy territory as they were, but that wasn’t his call.

“Commander,” Daniels spoke up hesitantly, “I think we have a problem.”

“Another one?” Roberts just shook his head and walked over that way. “What do you have to drop on the fire?”

“At a guess, sir? About twenty-five terawatt laser cannons and more fighters than I can count.”

Roberts lost his casual demeanor in an instant. “Talk fast.”

“The plate we’re heading toward, we’re starting to get imagery back from it,” Daniels explained. “I’m counting twenty of the Drasin cruisers docked at it, and five of those unknown-class ships. If they spot us, we’re going to see some action on the way out.”

“If they spot us, son.” Roberts shook his head. “What makes you think they haven’t already?”

“Sir?”

“Never mind.” So much for anyone getting any rest. Roberts walked back to the command station, where he keyed it open to the stewards’ channel.

“Commander?” the man’s voice came through questioningly.

“Wake the captain.”

There was a pause and a long yawn before the man responded, “Aye, sir.”

Cursed, it is
, Roberts decided tiredly.

RANQUIL, EN ROUTE TO BRAVO AO