Chapter Eight: Naomi
"Take cover!" Holden yelled.
Naomi hit the ground, behind the crates. Even with her helmet on, she heard the turret scream, raining bullets onto the floor. A coppery taste filled her mouth, after nearly being cut down.
"Can't reach it with my shotgun," Amos said.
"Holden, can you shoot over the crates?" Alex asked.
"And risk the turret shredding my only weapon?" Holden replied.
Alex snapped his fingers in sudden recognition. "Frag grenades."
The pilot reached for one, when Holden stopped him. "Wait. Don't throw it just so the turret can shoot it in mid-air."
"Block its line of sight with a smoke grenade?" Naomi asked, almost exasperated she thought of it first.
"Knew it was a good idea to bring you," Holden said, smiling.
The captain took a grenade, pulled the pin and rolled it across the floor. Before the turret could aim for it, white smoke flooded the area.
"Frag out!" Amos said, tossing an explosive grenade over the crate.
Naomi stayed low, listening to the grenade rattling to its target. She felt the muffled explosion through her helmet. The blast had cleared away the smoke. She peered over the edge of the crates, seeing the turret was destroyed.
"Okay people, gun's down. Keep moving," Holden ordered.
Even as adrenaline coursed through her, Naomi reflected on the sadness of being in another war zone. Worse, she was fighting her own people. Not for the first time, she wondered if this was hoe she would die. She contemplated why of all the possibilities, she had been forced into so much violence. Her former life with Jim on the Canterbury felt like a hundred years ago.
She pressed on defiantly, determined to live through this latest obstacle. When it was over, she vowed to return to Tycho and spend every moment with Jim she could.
The team came to the end of the corridor, ending in a door. Holden and Amos leaned against the wall. Holden motioned for Alex to go prone. The pilot did so, training his pistol on the doorway.
"Naomi, on me," Holden said.
She ran up to Holden, and pressing herself flat against the bulkhead.
"Anything on the other side of this wall, you empty your clip into it," Holden said to Alex.
"You got it, hoss," Alex said.
Holden pressed the door's button. It slid open to silence. The captain looked to Alex.
"It's clear," Alex confirmed.
"Well, that was anticlimactic," Amos said.
"I'm on point. Amos, cover me," Holden replied.
"Copy," Amos replied.
Alex got up and followed behind Holden and Amos. Crouching low, in spite of her Belter height, Naomi slipped through the door, bracing herself for what came next. Holden held up a fist, signaling for the team to stop.
"Looks like we've got an intersection," Holden said.
Naomi studied the area. They were in another corridor, like the one before. But now there were two passages halfway down, leading left or right. Just before the intersection, were rows of steel drums. If necessary, they would make suitable cover.
"So, betting there's something or someone waiting to ambush us from the sides," Holden supposed.
"That would be my guess," Amos replied.
"Flash bangs?" Alex suggested.
Holden nodded. "I know you're not one to fight, Naomi. But can you throw one with us?"
"Yes," Naomi replied, resigned to having to participate in the fight.
Everyone took a stun grenade.
"Amos, you and I will throw left. Alex, Naomi, throw yours right. On three. One...two...three!"
Naomi steeled herself and tossed one around the right corridor. A few rounds of gunfire echoed down either passage. Two loud cracks echoed through the chamber, as the flash bangs exploded.
"Fire at will!" Holden yelled.
Naomi crouched low and covered her ears, even though the helmet suppressed most of the noise. She heard Amos's shotgun, Holden's automatic rifle and Alex's pistol all firing. Sounds of their voices came through her earpiece.
"Reloading," Alex declared.
"Need another magazine," Holden said.
"Two down!" Amos reported.
The shootout seemed to last forever, until the firing stopped at last. When she could bring herself to do it, she opened her eyes, praying her people were unhurt.
Amos crouched down against the wall unscathed, holding his shotgun to his chest. Alex knelt as well, breathing hard and gripping his pistol tight. Holden released an empty clip from his rifle, and loaded another, with military precision.
"Ammo?" Holden asked.
"A few rounds left," Amos said.
"On my last clip," Alex replied.
"Couple of mags for me. Shit, Fred's going to be pissed if we retreat again," Holden said.
Amos jerked a thumb down the corridor. "The dead guys don't need their guns or ammo anymore."
"This is true," Holden said, looking a bit embarrassed not to have thought of that. "Alex, Amos, go ahead and—"
Before he finished, the door at the end of the corridor opened.
At first, Naomi thought the Belter man emerging from it wore powered armor. If true, they were good as dead. Naomi's mind went into overdrive, analyzing the opponent stalking near them.
It was a full suit of armor, but...improvised. The outer shell looked salvaged from scrap metal and junkyard parts. Various bits and pieces protruded from the shoulder pads and fishbowl helmet. For obvious reasons, the suit was tailored to fit the tall, slender Belter.
Naomi peered into the glass face plate to see the man inside. She surmised he was a more genteel Belter, the kind that lived on Ganymede. There were no tattoos. His face was fuller than average. He grew a close shaven, salt and pepper beard, and had a receding hairline.
He glared wild-eyed, through square shaped lenses, but not corrective ones. These were wearable computers. They looked laughably anachronistic; augmented reality glasses were largely replaced by cybernetic implants. He raised an arm, equipped with a wrist-mounted, tri-barreled gun. Her observations were interrupted by a command from Holden.
"The barrels, take cover!"
Once again, she threw herself onto the surface.
The armored man screamed in anger, firing the compact Gatling gun. Sharp pinging reverberated through the area, as rounds bounced off the thick metal containers.
"What the hell is that?" Alex blurted.
"Who cares, just kill him!" Amos yelled.
"Why us?" Holden murmured. He peered over the barrels for a clear shot, emptying his rifle into the man. Naomi couldn't help but watch with fear and admiration. She looked to see if the rifle had any effect. The enemy staggered backward, taking minor damage, but not enough to be taken out.
"Alex, suppressive fire!" Holden ordered. "Amos with me, take a corner."
Alex got up and fired until his gun clicked empty. The high velocity rounds kept the armored soldier off balance, buying time to close the distance. Amos and Holden crossed the intersecting corridors, using their corners for cover. Alex holstered his gun and sprinted toward Holden. Naomi started to move. But the armored man, covered behind his own barrels, lifted his gun to fire.
Naomi ducked behind her barrier. Jim's voice came through her earpiece.
"Naomi, I'm throwing a smoke grenade. When its safe, run to Amos, understand?"
"Y-yes," Naomi said.
Holden threw the grenade, laying down a smoke screen. Naomi ran with all her might to Amos.
"Last magazine loaded," Holden said.
"Out of armor piercing rounds," Amos said.
"I'm out," Alex said.
Naomi switched on her helmet's external speaker.
"We don't have to do this. We can talk," she said.
Holden looked at her like she had lost her mind. But she paid no attention. To her, and perhaps the group's surprise, the armored man spoke into his own microphone. The voice was lighter and more nasal than she imagined.
"You killed my people!" he shouted. With no Belter accent in his voice. "You destroyed the Theseus, you attacked my base, and now you want to talk!?"
The rest of the team switched on their own speakers. "The Theseus?" Holden asked. "Oh, he must mean the Faust."
"You called my battleship the Faust?" the man said, almost more insulted by that than anything else.
"Yeah," Amos replied. "After the legendary German erudite who sold his soul to the Devil for unlimited knowledge. Inspired by the historical Johann Georg Faust, and the basis of many literary works."
Naomi, Alex and Holden stared open mouthed at Amos, shocked that the brutish man would know something like that.
"What?" Amos said, shrugging. "I read sometimes."
"Can we know your name?" Naomi said, turning back to the situation at hand.
"For the short remainder of your lives, you can call me Doctor Sauer."
"Just tell us why. The secrecy, the lab. These projects. What was your plan?" Naomi asked.
"To free the Belt, what else? My discoveries would change the balance of power in the entire system. I just needed more time. Once perfected, I'd sell them to the OPA factions. Together we'd take the fight to Earth and Mars and win independence! You're a Belter, you should understand this. Why are you with those Squats, and that Duster?"
"Them's fightin' words," Alex said, referring to the derogatory terms Sauer used to describe Terrans and Martians.
"It's not too late, doctor," Naomi said. "Turn yourself in, we can protect you."
"Die!" Sauer shouted.
The doctor came from behind the barrels, firing off three shots, until a click sounded. The barrels slowed to a stop. Sauer looked at his gun in disbelief, not expecting to run out of ammo so soon.
Naomi felt a burning in her upper arm. She pressed her hand to the spot and looked at it; there was blood. She had been shot. She looked to Amos, who noticed the wound, his face reddening with anger. Then turned to Sauer. The doctor pressed a button on his forearm. He opened the door behind him remotely. He ran toward it.
Holden took some shots at the armor, but the bullets bounced off. Amos ran down the corridor. The door was halfway closed, when Sauer ducked under it. Amos rolled just before it slammed shut.
"Amos no!" Naomi yelled.
"Don't worry about him. He'll take care of himself," Holden said.
"It's not Amos I'm worried about..." she replied.