"Gamma, Beta. Approaching your position."
Silence.
We slashed away at coils of solid cenite—why so damned thick? And thousands of writhing cables, spitting pale liquid. Only the Gods of Hell knew what that was. We cut straight down; our tacmods showed Gamma was right below us.
"Gamma, Beta! We're on you! Respond!"
Muffled curses, as we cut away at the metal. They were right below us! The deck glowed and melted.
"Fire at will, gang," Snow Leopard ordered. "Take it easy on the tacstars, Psycho—we don't want to hurt Gamma. But I expect the O's will be here. See you all in Hell."
It was One's farewell. How could we not follow our One? Yes, we'd follow him into the heart of Hell and shoot Satan right between the eyes. I wished a quick prayer as the deck collapsed beneath our feet.
"Gamma, Beta! Respond! Damn! Nine, take out that section there."
They had to be right below us, a steep drop. We could see down through several levels, tacstar shafts, spiderweb cables and twisted cenite junk dangling in air, a thunderous fire roaring down below, thick clouds of black smoke rising. Gamma had fought a desperate battle, and had unleashed a hurricane of tacstars.
"Gamma on scope, as marked! All weapons live, tacstar, laser, xmax, flame, biobloc. Recommend extreme caution!"
Good advice from Sweety—good advice.
"Deadman. Gamma, Gamma, Gamma, Beta, Beta! Beta responding to your Nova! Gamma, it's Beta! Answer, Gamma! We're here! Don't fire!"
Silence—only silence.
We cut away another massive slab of metal and it fell in a rush of sparks, trailing a chaotic jumble of cenite cables.
I could see Gamma now on the tacmap, lower left plate, a ragged circle of glowing dots. Why weren't they answering?
"Beta, Gamma." Cold and dead, it was a voice without soul. "Board. Watch out for the spheres—there's no defense." It was Gamma One, I suddenly realized—Boudicca. Her voice was a hoarse, chill whisper.
We had to rappel down to Gamma's position. Everything was burning all around them, a flaming, glowing holocaust.
Gamma was in a fighting circle, but most of them were not moving. Some of the A-suits were glowing cherry-red. There was no sign of the O's. We approached cautiously, E's up. I reached for one of the glowing A-suits.
"Don't touch him!" A stinging rebuke from Boudicca. "Don't touch our dead!" I withdrew my hand quickly.
"Report, Gamma!" Snow Leopard demanded. Some of them were still alive, I could see. I was frantically looking for Valkyrie. It was so smoky, and I was so charged I could not see clearly.
"One hundred percent casualties," Boudicca replied coldly. My adrenalin count jumped.
Snow Leopard knelt before Boudicca and gently moved her E to one side. "Gamma—tell me what happened."
I could see into one of the faceplates of the dead. I looked away quickly. Broiled alive, the inside of the faceplate covered with heat bubbles, a glimpse of what had once been a human face. Deadman, I never want to see it again. My heart pounded frantically.
"Spheres," Boudicca responded. "Glowing spheres of energy. Probes. We tried tacstars, we tried stunstars, we tried xmax, we tried laser, we tried flame, we tried vac. Scut, we even tried biobloc. None of it worked. The spheres hit our A-suits and merged. Five spheres—five dead. They didn't have a chance."
We listened in horror. I was shaking inside my suit.
"Gamma!" Boudicca's voice was like the crack of a whip. "Report!"
"Squad Gamma all present or accounted for, sir!" It was Valkyrie—her voice was shaky, but she was alive!
A body orgasm of sheer joy rushed through my veins. Alive!
"Count off!" Boudicca hissed.
"Gamma Two present!" Valkyrie shot back. I could tell she was just barely in control.
"Gamma Three—mission accomplished!" But the voice was Valkyrie's.
"Gamma Four—mission accomplished!" It was Valkyrie, again, counting off for the dead.
"Gamma Five—present." A hoarse whisper. It was Scrapper—alive! She was Warhound's dream angel, an attractive girl with tawny hair and heavy breasts.
"Gamma Six—mission accomplished." But it was Scrapper's husky voice, again. Gamma Six was dead.
"Gamma Seven—present!" A deep bass voice. Seven was Sassin the Assassin, Gamma's Manlink master, a fierce Cyrillian merc with skin as black as death and cold slit eyes and sharpened teeth.
"Gamma Eight—mission accomplished!" It was Sassin's voice, again.
"Gamma Nine—mission accomplished!" But it was not Gamma Nine—it was Sassin, yet again.
"Squad Gamma all present or accounted for, Beta," Boudicca reported calmly. "Four effectives, five dead. Please stand back, we're going to vaporize our dead."
We stood there quietly while Boudicca spoke for the dead in a cold emotionless voice.
"Immortals in blood,
Brothers in arms,
Soldiers of the Legion
Flying black standards,
Gamma Two Four,
Delegates to the stars
All seasoned recruits
For Heaven's wars
Now recon Death's cold road.
Gamma Three, Gamma Four, Gamma Six, Gamma Eight, Gamma Nine; you're four effectives short—Remember your brothers-in-arms.
Missing in action,
We join you soon!"
Sassin then stood forth and fired one final tacstar into the killing ground. It burnt hot as a sun. I cried uncontrollably. I knew we were all going to end up like that—all of us.
###
"Let 'em rot!" Boudicca was furious. Through her faceplate I could see the Legion Cross burnt onto her forehead. She was crazier than Psycho. "I'll not risk the rest of my squad for these stinking Systies!" We were back in the blood factory, adrenalin churning. Rows of pale Systies lay naked on slabs, sightless glazed eyes blinking slowly, tubes of blood snaking overhead. They were all dead unless we helped. We popped a flare so the Systies could see. It was a nightmare scene, black armor and cold flesh and leaping, flickering shadows.
"They're all alive," Priestess reported, rising from the last one. "Ten Systies. I've charged them all. This area is still pressurized. If the outside atmosphere leaks in, they die. I need emergency breathers from everyone; you've each got one in your medkits."
"How can we transport them?" Warhound asked. "There's only nine of us."
"I can solve your problem," Boudicca snapped back, "with one tacstar! Or better yet, let's burn 'em! They don't deserve the dignity of a tacstar! These subs were helping the O's. We should kill them!"
"We're not leaving humans behind for the O's," Snow Leopard responded. "We're taking these prisoners to the aircar. We'll do it in shifts, if necessary. Priestess, you decide which Systies go first."
"They're not humans!" Boudicca insisted. "They're Systies! They're traitors! You're risking Legion lives for Mocains! Look at that skin—those are Mocains!"
"Take the Outworlders first, Nine," Snow Leopard added.
"Tenners." Priestess lifted one of the Systies—a female—from her slab. It was ob she could not stand. "We can carry them easily," Priestess decided, "with our A-suits. Everyone can take one Systie."
"That still leaves one Systie."
"We can't drag anyone—don't forget that radioactive pool."
"Thinker, can you take two of them?"
"Yeah, sure. Tenners. We can strap one on my back." It would be no problem. Systie trash was light.
"All right, do it—so we make only one trip."
"Gamma wasn't planning on making two trips!"