At Empire's Edge Read Free Page B

them went down. The whole experience scared the hell out of Cato, so he shot the Vord again , just to make sure.
    Then it was time to rally his section and lead them deeper into the belly of the alien ship. A quick glance at the data projected on the inside surface of Cato’s visor showed that while Ritori was down, Honis, Batia, Tonver, Moshath, and Kelkaw were still on their feet and immediately behind him. Sivio’s section was headed toward the ship’s bow. “All right,” Cato said into his lip mike, “let’s keep moving. Remember, stay close to your partner, and eyeball everything . These assholes play for keeps.”
    There was a series of double click s as the rest of the section acknowledged his instructions. Then it was time to split up into pairs, put their backs to both sides of the corridor, and edge along. There was no resistance at first, which caused Cato to wonder if the aliens had given up, but any hopes of a relatively easy victory were shattered when the passageway opened into an area dedicated to the ship’s life-support systems. From his position at the entry hatch Cato could see the tanks that were required to recycle water, the big rack-shaped air scrubbers, and a sealed climate-controlled hydroponics section in which fresh vegetables were grown. It all made for a maze of machinery and pipes.
    Cato was forced to retreat into the corridor as four or five Vords opened fire and ruby red energy beams sleeted his way. Cato removed a “roller” from a pouch at his waist, pinched the device “on,” and tossed the little camera into the area beyond. Video appeared in front of him, turned topsy-turvy, and finally came to a rest. The panoramic shot was somewhat distorted, but crystal clear, and therefore useful, especially when the defenders were stupid enough to fire at the roller, thereby signaling their various positions.
    “Okay,” Cato said evenly, as he turned to address his team. “I’ll toss a flash-bang in there. Once it goes off, we enter. Honis, Batia, you take the targets on the right. Tonver and Moshath will go after the slimeballs on the left. Kelkaw and I will go straight up the middle. Questions? No? Let’s do this thing.”
     
     
    Like the other members of Cato’s section, Brice Kelkaw had a generally low opinion of the Section Leader (SL) because of his tendency to duck work, break rules, and drink too much. But there was one category of activity in which Cato excelled, and that was the area of tactical operations, where he was second to none. For some unfathomable reason, Cato’s freewheeling ways were frequently successful when the chips were down, a fact that accounted for both the stripes on his arms and the handful of badly tarnished medals buried at the bottom of his footlocker.
    So Kelkaw was secretly glad of the fact that he had been assigned to Cato’s section rather than Sivio’s, as he followed the noncom out into a sleet of incoming fire. Some of which left scorch marks on Kelkaw’s light gray armor but failed to hole it. Projectile weapons would have been much more deadly, but could have caused serious damage to the ship, which neither side wanted to do. But even though the so-called blasters weren’t immediately lethal, they could drill holes in armor if given the three or four seconds required to do so. And that made it important to keep moving.
    As Cato fired on a Vord who was hiding between a recycling tank and the air scrubbers, Kelkaw heard someone shout, “Above you!” and raised his energy weapon just in time to fire at the alien on the catwalk above.
    The Vord got off a series of energy bolts as well, some of which came within inches of Cato’s helmet, but that took time. Enough time for Kelkaw’s energy rifle to stitch a line of black divots across the alien’s chest plate. The last bolt found the seam between shoulder and arm, burned its way through, and opened the suit to the vacuum. The results were not very pretty.
     
     
    Having nailed his