He Who Dares: Book Two (The Gray Chronicals 2) (41 page)

“It was hairy enough getting onto the rock.  I hate to think what will happen when we try to get out.”

“You needn’t be delicate about it, as by that time it won’t matter.  Blast your way clear if you have to, and maybe set a few of these rocks free, that will help cover your departure.”  Reluctantly Pete sat down in Mike’s command chair and looked around the Bridge.  There was a subtle difference from his position below.

“Pete.  Whatever happens, your job is to get this ship and the data we’ve collected back to Earth.”

“And you?”  Mike knew what he was asking and shook his head.

“The assault team is secondary to your main mission.  If this all goes sideways it won’t matter, and there’s probably nothing you can do about rescuing us anyway.”  He could see Pete Standish was not convinced.   “Take a look out there Pete,” Mike nodded towards the main viewer, “they have you out number and outgunned ten to one.  Slip away and report back to Earth.  That’s a direct order, Mr. Standish.”  He could see Pete didn’t like it, and he hated making it an order.

“Aye-aye, Captain.  Slip away and report our finding back to the Admiral.”  

Pete watched as Mike exited the Bridge, feeling an odd sense of loss for some reason as he sat in the Captain’s chair.  From the second seat, he only had to worry about carrying out the Skipper’s orders and the general administration of the ship, trusting that the said Captain knew what he was doing.  From this seat, he had to make all the decisions, and hope
he
knew what he was doing.  He shook his head.  This was a case of the blind leading the blind.  A thousand and one things could go wrong in the next few hours, if that happened Mike and his team could be killed or captured.  He stopped, not wanting to think about that.  It would be up to him to do something about it if that happened, or run for home as quick as he could as ordered.  He didn’t like it, not one damn bit.

“Janice, can we safely use the internship comm system now?”  He asked as he walked down the companionway towards his cabin.

“Aye, sir, I believe we are safe out of range now.” She radioed back.

“Good, order all hands to stay at ‘at ease’ battle stations, and tell them to rotate in one hour intervals, they might be there for a while.”

“Aye-aye, sir.”

Mike made his way to his cabin and changed into civilian clothes, putting on the ones he’d used for the mercenary masquerade.  From what he’d seen of the miner, none of them would be out of place dressed like that.  After adding an assortment of jewelry, weapons and a headband, he headed for the shuttle bay.  Jenks didn’t look at all happy being left behind, and in one way, Mike would have liked to take him along, but there just wasn’t any room.  Giving him a nod of understanding, he took off for the flight deck.

*  *  *  *  *  *

“We can use the light evac suits, sir.  The mining ship is only a short walk from here now.”  Sergeant Rice said as he came in.

“Thanks, Charley,” He took the thin suit and started to climb into it, “is your team ready?”

“Aye, sir.  All dressed for the party, three men and two women, sir.”

“Good, that should look natural.”

“We got the miner pretty drunk, sir, and found out a few interesting facts.”

“Such as?”

“Well, for one, there are so many new people arriving all the time that few of them know each other.”

“What about security?”

“Lax at best, sir, we have the forged ID badges, but they won’t pass close inspection.”

“I’m hoping they won’t have to, oh, by the way, don’t forget the tracer unit.”

“Have it right here, Skipper.”  He padded his leg pocket, sound brisk, with no overtones that his Captain’s question was unnecessary.

“Good man.”

“I take it we’ll be playing this by ear, much as we did on that moon?”  Mike snapped him a quick look as he zipped the suit up, thinking that Rice might be laughing at him.  He wasn’t.

“Right, our job it to find out where they are keeping the fighters, get there and either fly them out of there if possible, or destroy them if we can’t.  After that it’s just a question of getting out of there as fast as we can.”

“And it they are already in pieces, Skipper?”

“Then we blow the hell out of the place and make sure the parts get destroyed.”

“There could be casualties, sir.”  The expression on Rice’s face said he was dead serious, a far cry from when they’d first met. He doubted Rice would have trusted him to pour beer out of his boot without help and instructions on the heel.

“If that is what happens, so be it.  After we complete the mission, we high tail it back to the mining ship?”

“It would be great if the Chief could fly it around to the nearest airlock or docking bay.  We’d be able to get the hell out of there a lot quicker.”

“Good point.  I’ll relay that to the Chief.  My only concern is, that the moment we launch those fighters, or blow the place up, the Sirriens will know something up.”  Mike continued dressing as they talked, with Rice double check the seals on his suit.

“Not if we create enough confusion they won’t, sir.  Hopefully they’ll just think someone ordered the fighter out if they thought the base was takes a hit.”  Mike liked and didn’t like Rice’s idea.  It would cause mass confusion as he wanted, but it also had the potential of getting a lot of people killed.

“I only have one caveat, Sergeant Rice.”

“Yes, sir?”

“We are not at war with the Sirriens, at least not yet.  Before you start blowing stuff up, you set off the alarm system in some way to give the people on that station a chance to get off if something major blows up.”  Rice looked at him a moment then nodded.

“As you say, sir.  I’ll make sure personally that any alarm system is activated before we start blowing things up.”  He smiled then.  “I thought you might be thinking along those lines, sir, so I added a collection of explosive devices, just in case.”  

“You’d better let me carry a few as well, look for communication, power junctions, and things like that.”

“A hull breach in a few places would go amiss either sir.”

“Damn!  You Marine’s are a bloodthirsty lot.”  Mike grinned.  Yet he knew Rice was right, they had to create as much panic, and confusion as possible, and avoid killing as few people as possible in the process. 

Standing in line, they all turned to the left and checked the back of the equipment of the person in front of them, then did an about face and did the same thing the other way.  This was one thing no one rushed as a person's life depended on how well each of them checked the other.  At last, each held his or her thumb up to indicate the check was complete and clear.  There was one moment when Conner Blake held his thumb down, and Sergeant Rice went over to look.  It wasn’t serious, and at last, he held his thumb up.  After that Rice walked down the line, check each man back and front himself, before closing his face shield.  Together they shuffled into the airlock and sealed the door.

“Bridge!  Away team number one in the airlock.”

“Understood team leader cycle lock when ready.”

“Aye, Captain.”  Mike acknowledged, smiling to himself as he hit the key.

The airlock cycled, and opening the outer hatch, they stepped out onto the short deck at the aft of the main sail.  Rice held up the short rope attached to his belt with a carabiners on the end, and snapped it to the cable running from the ship to the surface.  The Marines had already rigged a boarding plank to the rugged surface and the moment Mike stepped onto it, he felt the change to zero gravity once they passed beyond the one generated by the ship.  The black surface of the rock was lumpy, not that they touched down, but sped hand over hand along the cable.  At the end, they switch from one cable to the next around the rock until they reached the rock hopper’s ship.  The moment Mike saw inside the ship, he understood Sergeant Rice’s reason for using the line instead of the Jetpacks.  The inside was cramped enough and there was nowhere to put the Jetpacks, which meant they would have had to jettison them.  Mike was thankful he got the second seat next to Conner, who was already aboard checking out the system.

“Any problem with radio traffic, Chief?”

“No, sir, the ships been sending out its automatic repeater signal, and no one seems to be bothered about us.”

“Good, let's hope it stays that way.”

“Just in case, I’ve jimmied the radio to break up when I transmit.”

“Good.  Once we are aboard the station and find out where our ships are, we’ll radio for you to bring this bucket around to the nearest docking port or airlock.”

“Aye-aye, Skipper.”

“So, let’s get this show on the road.”

The controls were fairly standard, even if all the instruments were labeled in French it only took a moment before they lifted off.  Conner followed a random course, as if checking another asteroid and gradually worked his way back down the belt towards the solar furnace.  Everything went well for a while, and then the radio spluttered to life.

“You’d better answer that, sir, your French is better than mine.”  Mike nodded, and keyed the comm unit.

“I’m having radio problems and heading back to base!”  Mike answered in perfect French, trying to match the tone the miners use.  Immediately, the request came back for him to repeat, as his message was breaking up.  He let out several colorful French swear words. “Been trying to reach you for a while, I’m having radio problems.”  Again, someone asked him to repeat.

He did, repeating the message four times in all, sounding more frustrated each time.  In the end, they got the idea, and told him to go ahead, and that they’d pass on the information, he was having radio problems.  That at least should stop anyone asking questions as to why he didn’t respond, and elevate suspicion.  They did get several radio calls from different people, but he ignored them, and from what could tell, they’d got the message.  After that, no one bothered them as they pulled out and headed for the main complex.  Even so, Mike’s hands were sweating as the automatic docking beacon took control of the little craft and brought them into the correct docking port.  With a loud ‘clang’ that vibrated through the tiny ship, the magnetic clamps locked together, bringing the ship to a halt, airlock to airlock.

“Head up people, just in case there’s a reception committee waiting for us.”  Rice called.  By now, the Marines had stripped off the soft suits and the moment Rice gave the word they pulled their side arms as the airlock cycled open, sounding as if the pump was on its last legs.  Finely the green light came on and Mike undogged the hatch.  No one waited outside for them, and the moment the outer door opened, two Marines pulled themselves out onto the deck.  The moment they it, the artificial gravity returned, bringing their feet to the floor and they took off to scout the short, landing bay corridor.  The rest waited, and after a few moments until they signaled the all clear.

“Chief, you stay here and monitor our progress.  As soon as I’ve located the ships I’ll signal you.”

“Right, sir, I’ll bring her round to the nearest airlock to you, or the launch bay if possible.”

“Good man.  You take care, Conner.”

“You too, sir.  While I wait, I’ll make out I’m a maintenance tech working on the radio repair or something in case someone comes poking their nose in.”

“By the look of it, this ship could use some repair, oh yes, make sure you check on fuel, we’ll need full tanks.”

“Aye-aye, sir, there has to be a loading dock, or fuel lines around here.”

Stowing the Evac suits in an empty locker, the six of them made their way out of the dock onto the main concourse and quickly mingled with the throng of people.  A quick survey showed at least three major species, Human, Voss, Cerulean, with a few other’s mixed in.  The majority, of course we're human, Sirrien or people from star systems within their so call Empire.  Most worked for them as rock hounds, miners, prospectors and traders, or techs on the solar furnace.  Except the military and station security, everyone was dressed differently in a wide assortment of clothes and colors.  That meant they blended in and simply vanished into the crowd.