CHAPTER 16
The attack blurred time, and only each next moment mattered.
Jets screamed overhead—the IDC’s Charon class and UCF’s Aduun—in an aerial battle playing a modified game of keep away, with the base as the goal.
Bee shot a volley of incendiary rounds ahead of the advancing line of trucks, already changing direction before their opposing tanks got in range. The IDC hadn’t brought ground troops—with little cover and direct sight lines, it would have been a slaughter—but the fact they’d been able to bring so many heavy ground vehicles so close before being seen was baffling.
And not remotely her concern at the moment. The defense arrays had not begun to fire, and Talinn gave herself three breaths to center. Later, she’d deal with her clone’s offer, the possibility of unfriendly orders, a galactic conspiracy that ran every aspect of her life.
Whether or not it was a play war for the Command, it was real enough here and now, and on the bright side, there might not be a later.
Three breaths later, her mind was clear, her eyes focused, and a stray missile from above headed directly for them.
The side turret melted beyond hope of Bee’s repair, and Talinn rerouted slush material to the treads while Bee shifted their loaded ammunition from incendiary to ballistic. The jet that had caught them finished exploding above, pieces falling between Breezy’s tank and the approaching enemy.
“Two drones left.” Talinn’s fingers blurred over the control panels. Bee shifted the contents of their payload, keeping their targets off balance, and the near constant thwoom of the main turret had comfortably deadened Talinn’s hearing.
“Breezy, base arrays going hot.”
“Breezy confirms.”
Hope their aim is good with Cece being buggy.
Was Cece buggy? They hadn’t had time to address it. The thought floated through Talinn, but didn’t anchor to anything. She rerouted systems as the internal electronics threatened to overheat, leaving Bee to prioritize their offense.
The low ringing in her ears shifted with the addition of the base arrays—the barrage blanketed the shrinking area between Breezy and the IDC forces. Not going to bother to aim through that. Shifting to south by—
Bee didn’t shift them anywhere, as the entirety of the field to their southeast side disappeared, blanking out their sensors. The ambient temperature soared, and a corresponding roar shook the tank nearly out of its renewed treads.
“That’s what the hot jets do.” The mystery of the disappearing-reappearing jets from their last engagement locked into place with a force of certainty, and Talinn took no joy in the understanding.
That’s where Monk was.
They were all in half-repaired tanks dug out of deep storage, except Sigmun and Kay, who’d taken back their tank. Impossibly, all Talinn could picture was the blanket, with its rows of neat stitching. Her fingers twitched, the glide of fabric underneath almost tangible—
“Shit.” She spat the word and wrenched her brain back on task. Shock and grief were problems for later Talinn. Now Talinn had a different suite of issues.
We’re still functional.
“Connect with base. We’re firing everything we’ve got through the array, and it would help if we’re not in their way.” It was reckless—any officer running through records would understand that Bee had spoken directly to Cece or Lei—but it wasn’t even in the top handful of terrible potential consequences they might face.
They pushed through, and Breezy brought several screens back online—enough to see the field in front of them, the glassed ground to one side, two new flaming wrecks off to the other. A small cluster of unadapted soldiers had taken shelter behind River’s tank, and one sprung out to the side, firing something disproportionately large toward the oncoming forces.
Radiation and heat were still high out there—Talinn had to admire the soldiers’ determination and focus, though it was only a blip of a second before she shifted back to the matter at hand.
“—their weapon was aerial in nature. Ground impact as a side effect.” Daren’s voice crackled over comms and cut out again as fast as it had come in.
“How many jets are left?”
At least six. Jiff has three attackers on him, getting distance from base.
Six of twelve. Not great. At least two tanks down. Two arrays firing, with all the material Base Command had authorized for them to cannibalize. They’d be staggering it, which meant—
Pause in array fire in three.
“Let’s make the most of it.”
Blowing everything up in two.
“And go.”
Three jets left on their side. Two tanks. Two arrays.
As best they could tell from the patchy comms, that was all that was left. Whatever weapon had glassed the field hadn’t had a repeat demonstration, indicating it took an enormous amount of power. Or a lot of buildup time. Or they’d taken out the equipment responsible. Too many options, and Talinn didn’t bother to sort them at the moment.
The field was quiet, which should have been better.
“Breezy, it’s a pause. Let’s fall back.” Even Caytil’s voice, usually so welcome, peeled up three layers of skin and left Talinn oozing.
To the base? With a potentially murderous Base Two? A functionally invisible Base Actual? Impossible decisions to be made?
Without Sigmun and Daren and River and Deets and—
Talinn.
“Breezy acknowledges, Ziggy.” But didn’t commit. Talinn stared at the grayed-out screens, her eyes sand dry and aching, absorbing neither moisture nor understanding.
We should go back. At least we can restock. Bee hummed, the tone discordant. If there’s anything left to make into ammunition.
“This is all for nothing.” Talinn didn’t know if she’d made it a question or not. Didn’t know if it was a question or not. “We’ve probably done it a thousand times, and it doesn’t accomplish anything.”
We have had 467 engagements in our career. Any that have happened to other genetic and programmatic expressions of us do not add to our total.
When Talinn didn’t answer, Bee shifted her tone higher to indicate she was now pretending to be Talinn, and added, Imagine all the extra bonuses if they did count for our record.
It did effect a small smile in response, and Talinn sagged back against her chair. This one was less cushioned than her own had been.
“Was that meant to be my line?”
You do like talking about bonuses.
“You think there ever were any bonuses?”
No.
“Yeah. Me either.” Talinn scrubbed her hands over her face and scalp, ignoring the grit that came away. Maybe she’d sweated. Maybe she’d cried. None of it mattered now. “Back to base?”
It’s the best move.
“And then?”
We figure out the next one.