"John G. Hemry - Stark's War 3 - Stark's Crusade" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hemry John G)

in a wide circle. “That’s one damned good pilot.”

“Yeah. But he can’t save it. Too low. And too much forward velocity. When it hits—”

Before Reynolds could finish, the forward stabilizers fired again, shoving the shuttle’s nose
up and on past the vertical so that the shuttle’s main drive pointed forward. The main drive
roared, its exhaust throwing up swirls of dust from the nearby surface as the shuttle yawed
wildly overhead. The shuttle slowed, shaking under the force of deceleration even as it sank
closer to the rocky landscape. A moment later, some portion of the shuttle impacted the
surface, shedding pieces of hull as the spacecraft bounced back upward, tumbling out of
control once again. “Gutierrez!” Wiseman commanded. “You’ve done everything you can!
Eject! Get your crew out of that thing!”

“No! I’ve got passengers! I can still—”

The pilot’s voice cut off as the shuttle hit hard, hurling rocks and fragments of the ship off
to either side, rose slightly, then slammed to the Moon’s surface again with brutal finality. The
shuttle slid across the rough surface, its progress erratic as the crippled craft rebounded off the
larger rocks and bounced over the smaller ones. “Medical!” Sergeant Tran was calling into the
comm circuit. “Get a full response team to that site as fast as possible.”

“On our way,” Medical responded instantly.

Tran pointed to the display. “Four ambulances. I’ll have more headed there in a minute.”

“Good,” Stark approved, angered as his voice shook slightly. “Good,” he repeated in firmer
tones. “And good job having that medical team on alert. Vic, is everybody else okay?”

She scanned the display, chewing her lower lip, then nodded. “Looks like it. The other
cargo shuttles are braking for landing, and Wiseman’s got her armed shuttles headed back this
way. You going to the scene?”

“Yeah.” Once again she’d read his mind. Or maybe she just knew him better than anyone
else. “Alert my command APC, okay?”

“They’ll be waiting.”
 Stark ran this time, not worried about decorum. Word of the downed shuttle had spread
with the impossible speed of any bad news, so no one questioned his dash to the APC dock.
Inside the APC, he pulled himself into the command chair and strapped in with one motion.
“You’ve got the crash site?” he asked the driver.

“Yessir.”

“Then get me there fast!”

“Yessir.” The driver fell silent, concentrating on his driving as the APC surged into motion.
Stark sat silent, his eyes not really seeing the display before him where the cargo shuttles were
coming to rest on the American Colony’s landing field and Wiseman’s armed shuttles were
braking to shed velocity after safely regaining the protection of the Colony’s surface defenses.
He tried not to think, not to worry, knowing nothing he thought or imagined could help the