Of Fire and Night - Kevin J. Anderson [71]
Demolitions techs were the first to emerge, drifting over to the disabled Juggernaut and planting explosive charges against the cargo bay hull. "Proceed," Lanyan said. "Assume that everyone on board is dead." Or expendable.
The demolitions techs jetted out of the way. As the shaped explosives ignited, the Juggernaut's cargo bay cracked open, decompressing the lower decks. Atmosphere vomited out, sweeping dozens of Soldier compies into the cold vacuum, where they flailed and drifted. Lanyan watched them float away, knowing it wouldn't be so easy to get rid of the rest.
His group of suited fighters adjusted their acceleration packs, checked air tanks and weapons charges, and prepared to jump across the dizzying gulf.
"Let's get started," Lanyan said. "We've got a lot of ships to take back today."
41
ROSSIA
Though he continued to send reports through his treeling, Rossia could see that they had lost the fight, lost the Juggernaut, and lost the whole Grid 5 battle group. The compies kept coming and coming. He hadn't heard messages from any other EDF green priests in a long time now.
Outside the Eldorado's bridge, blood painted the corridor walls in red abstract patterns. Though the Soldier compies could easily have yanked a few still-charged weapons from their victims, instead they used their metal- and polymer-sheathed arms as bludgeons. They were in no hurry now.
Grid 5's Mantas had been subsumed, and the cruisers had withdrawn, waiting for the inevitable end. Soldier compies controlled all command bridges except for the Eldorado. Rossia could see it would not be long; he communicated as much through the treeling. By now the delicate gold-scale bark looked worn from his insistent touching.
Long ago, when the wyvern had snatched him from the Theron treetops, Rossia had been sure he was going to die. Now he had the same feeling.
But Admiral Eolus wasn't done yet. He prowled the barricaded bridge, his shoulders squared, his thick arms swinging from side to side. "Come on, then," he snarled at the compies, using his loudest voice. "Or are you afraid to get a little dented?"
The bridge defenders had put up a valiant fight, but it was a hopeless last stand. As they saw death approaching, one by one the soldiers volunteered to throw themselves against the massed Soldier compies, protecting Admiral Eolus for just a few minutes more.
Rossia squeezed his eyes shut, unable to bear seeing any more blood. He gripped his treeling. "I just received word from Nahton. Even the Palace District compy factory has turned into a battle zone. I'm the only green priest still alive in any battle group--unless the others are just separated from their treelings." He blinked his eyes and looked around for reassurance. "Maybe that's it. Maybe they're still alive."
Now only the green priest, a station officer, and the security chief remained alive alongside the gruff Admiral. As compies tossed the last of the uniformed corpses aside, Eolus apparently decided enough was enough.
"Screw this, by God. Cut off access to the bridge! Sergeant Briggs, grab the repair kits and start welding around that seam. We've got enough epoxy solder to hold the doors together." He knotted his fingers together, glowering at fate. "And I was looking forward to retirement with a beer on a beach, but I guess we're not going out for any moonlight strolls."
The security chief was already rummaging through an unsealed storage bin at an empty station. "Epoxy solder won't last long, Admiral."
"Doesn't have to last forever, Sergeant. Just long enough. It's time to make these clanking bastards pay." The Admiral looked at the viewscreen, saw his eleven overthrown Mantas hovering nearby, like hyenas waiting to close in on a carcass. "Those tin soldiers haven't just defeated us. They stole our own battleships--and that makes me very angry!"
Briggs was on his knees