Gates of Hell

by Daniel Gibbs

  “Thank you,” Ruth replied and followed his instruction, scooting the leg portion of the armor on and sealing it into place with the torso piece. “I’ve worn space suits before that were akin to power armor. This stuff is a lot lighter,” she commented.

  “Tier-one always gets the best gear,” Mata interjected. “I’ve got optics in my rifle most can only dream about.”

  “Tier-one, baby!” Harrell shouted. “Always ready! Always deadly! Always there!”

  Ruth fought down the desire not to roll her eyes. This is like something out of one of those ludicrous action holomovies. The ones that always get what life is really like in the fleet and on the ground wrong.

  Meissner picked up the right arm piece. “If you’d hold out your right arm, LT?”

  After Ruth compiled, he fitted the piece in and ensured a tight seal. After repeating the process on her left arm, the suit was in place. “I’d stand up and walk around if were you, LT. Get used to it before we jump out the back.”

  “Good advice. Thanks, Meissner,” Ruth said as she stood up, taking a few steps gingerly, shocked at how easy it was to walk in what appeared to be a heavy armor suit, but in reality, had servos and assists in it that automatically adjusted to her walking gait and made her faster and stronger.

  The sudden tight turns the ship made were the first indication something was wrong; Ruth was flung off her feet and narrowly missed hitting her head on one of the padded seats that were used for hard landings.

  “Secure yourselves! We’re under fire from the planetary defense grid!” MacDonald’s voice came out of a speaker in the room at a shout.

  Ruth tried to get herself up, only to find a powerful hand lifted her suit and helped her into the chair. “There you go, LT,” Ahmad said and handed her the helmet that went with the armor. “Get it on and strap in.”

  Ruth just nodded in reply, fumbling around with the helmet for a moment before it locked into place. Whoa, this is neat, she thought as the HUD initialized, automatically linking her into the same tactical network that the commandos shared. It also allowed her to see metrics from the ship, which weren’t right. Multiple missiles appeared to be tracking their craft. How the heck did the League even get a lock on us? This thing is supposed to have the latest in stealth tech. Wishing for a moment she hadn’t looked at the feed, she braced herself as a missile hit the ship.

  Time seemed to slow down and almost stop as the muted sound from the explosion roared through the tiny vessel. Ruth held on to her straps as the floor seemed to rush up at her; the rest of the commandos looked like it was merely another day at the office. “New plan!” MacDonald’s voice came over the speaker again. “Brace for impact! We’re going down!”

  Ahmad dropped into the seat next to hers. “You’re not properly strapped in, Lieutenant,” he said as he pulled the straps tight enough so she couldn’t move. “The entire point to these harnesses is they keep us from moving and our feet out of contact with the deck. Large reduction in injuries that way.”

  Ruth nodded in return. I’m not showing my fear. “This happens often?”

  “All the bloody time!” Meissner yelled. “It’s because we use the lowest bidder on building our shit!”

  The ship began to rattle uncontrollably; Ruth used the helmet’s interface to look at their relative position to the planet. They were eighty miles up and coming in at a near ballistic trajectory. The pilot appeared to be on track to somehow get them near where they had planned to recon. That’s some real dedication or just crazy amounts of skill.

  “Yasue yahminana min alshar,” Ahmad said quietly, causing Ruth to look over. The commando had his head bowed and was holding his hands together.

  “I’m not sure what you just said, but amen,” Ruth interjected.

  Ahmad laughed. “I asked Jesus to protect us,” he said as the ship rattled once more and the hull made groaning noises, indicating extreme stress. Through her HUD, Ruth saw they were now fifty miles up.

  “I think we’re going straight in,” Ruth said, fighting to talk through rising G-forces as the inertial dampening system was overtaxed and at the point of failure.

  “Pilot will pull out of the dive before that happens,” Ahmad gasped back. “Done this before, Lieutenant. Don’t worry, we’re not dying today. At least not in this crash.”

  That sounded a whole lot like false bravado to me. Ruth closed her eyes and chose not to watch the updated sensor readout as they hurtled toward the ground. For those few moments, she considered her choices and the decisions she had made. God, if You’re up there… if You can hear me, if I even matter to You, she prayed silently. Just help me to get through this and do the right things down here.

  6

  “Wake up, Lieutenant!” MacDonald screamed into Ruth’s face as he shook her suit. She moaned as he did, finally opening her eyes. “Can you hear me?”

  “Yes…” Ruth replied, her speech slurred.

  “Let me have a look,” said an accented voice that Ruth couldn’t place.

  Ruth blinked her eyes several times and saw the face of Mata, the sniper, appear in front of her. “I feel like someone beat me up,” she managed to say.

  “I also serve as the unit’s medic, though we all have medical training,” Mata explained as he ran a hand scanner over her. “You’re lucky. No broken bones, minor concussion.”

  “Great, damn cake eater gets a concussion,” Harrell said as he too stood over them. “Get her back on her feet, Mata. We don’t have time for this.”

  Mata pulled a device out of his pack and adjusted it before giving her a shot. “You’ll be fine in two minutes, Lieutenant.”

  True to his word, Ruth felt better, almost momentarily. Her brain cleared, and she sat up to see she was still in the lander; the rest of the team was collecting ammunition and supplies. “We crashed?”

  “That we did,” MacDonald replied, stepping back and double-checking his loadout. “Pilot’s dead. This bird will never fly again.”

  “We need to be thinking about getting off this rock, Master Chief,” Meissner interjected. “Leaguers will send patrols this way.”

  “Got any bright ideas on how to do that? I suppose we could walk up to the nearest League officer and politely ask to use a shuttle?” MacDonald replied to scattered chuckles.

  “Escape and evade is the first order of business,” Ruth said, causing everyone to stare at her.

  “Okay, cake eater, I’ll humor you for a bit,” Harrell said as he tilted his head to the side. “Since you managed to at least get the term right. In your expert opinion, how would we do so?”

  “Take the body of the pilot, set the entire thing alight with white phosphorus grenades, and destroy what’s left of the ship.”

  MacDonald and Harrell exchanged glances before MacDonald turned back to her. “That’s pretty damn dark, LT. We’re not burning the body of one of our own.”

  “Why not?” Ruth said, her tone a challenge.

  “Because everyone goes home. Even if it’s in a body bag. We’ll spread some tissue samples around, but we’re burying her in the woods. Someday, she will be returned to her family.”

  Ruth stared at him, silent. Who cares anyway? No one will remember us if we die here. “Fine, we’ll do it your way. Hopefully, it’ll be enough to fool the front line League garrison troops that have no interest being here in the first place. Someone will eventually figure out there’s not enough DNA for a ship this size, but by that time, we’ll be long gone.”

  MacDonald nodded. “Okay, people, gather up everything we can carry. Bring the heavy weapons, explosives, food, and medical gear. We may have to fight our way off this rock. I want to be prepared.”

  “You heard the Master Chief! Let’s go, ladies!” Harrell shouted, with one last dirty look toward Ruth.

  “Do we have comms?” Ruth asked.

  “I’ve got the mini-burst dish,” Rostami answered. “Once we get far enough away from here that it’s safe to stop for a bit, I’ll set it up, and we can get
off a transmission. The problem is, we can’t keep it up in receive mode. Not without attracting unwanted attention.”

  “One problem at a time,” Ruth mused.

  “I hate it when ops start like this,” MacDonald said. “Puts a hex on the whole damn mission.”

  “What can I do?” Ruth asked.

  “Gather up what you can in your pack. I assume you can carry twenty kilos?”

  “I passed my fitness eval with flying colors, Master Chief. Thirty-five kilos isn’t a problem.”

  “Good. Load her up, Ahmad.”

  The group worked in silence, taking everything that could be of use to them, while Harrell and Mata handled taking the pilot out of the craft and putting her lifeless corpse into a standard-issue CDF body bag.

  “Ahmad, wire this thing up with charges. Nothing left, understood?” MacDonald stated.

  “Yes, Master Chief.”

  Despite having only known the men for a short period, Ruth could tell from the frowns, drawn faces, and somber attitudes that the loss of the pilot deeply affected Alpha team. At times like this, I hate the war.

  “Everyone off the ship,” MacDonald barked. The team followed him out, Ruth taking up the rear. Upon exiting the craft, a forest confronted them. It appeared to extend for miles in every direction, a canopy of green with a gash left in it by the crash.

  Ahmad was the last one a few minutes later. He trotted up to MacDonald. “Charges and grenades set, Master Chief.”

  “Blow it.”

  Ahmad did as he was told and triggered a remote detonator that caused a surprisingly small series of explosions. They all stood watching as thick smoke began to waft out of the back of the ship, followed by white-hot flames that forced the group back. MacDonald spoke again. “I’m not that good at this, but here goes. Lord, we ask you to watch over the soul of Warrant Officer Rebecca Douglas. She gave her life so that we might live. Amen.”

  “Amen,” Ruth answered along with the rest of the team.

  “Harrell, take point,” MacDonald ordered. “Ahmad and Meissner, you get the first round of carrying the body. Everyone else, in line. I’ll take up the rear. For now, we’re charlie mike.”

  “Charlie mike?” Ruth asked.

  “Continuing mission,” Meissner explained.

  “I figure wherever that control center is, we’ll find some shuttles there too. We’ll kill several birds with one stone.”

  “Ever tried killing a bird with a stone?” Ahmad quipped. “It’s quite difficult.”

  “Fall in,” Harrell said, walking off after consulting his tablet.

  Ruth got into line with the rest of the team, wondering what would happen next. This day can’t possibly get any worse.

  With blackness in every direction and only the light of faint stars, space is a lonely place to be. Sometimes I wish Angie were here. David sat in the CO’s chair, watching the readouts from his tactical display as the Lion of Judah traversed the artificial wormhole created by his ship’s powerful Lawrence drive.

  “Conn, Navigation! Emerging into normal space!” Hammond called out.

  Even with the advanced inertial dampening systems, David felt the massive warship accelerate as it left the tunnel it had traveled. “Conn, TAO! LIDAR array snapping on, no hostile contacts,” Kelsey, the second watch TAO officer, said.

  “Acknowledged, TAO. Are all civilian vessels present and accounted for?”

  Kelsey carefully checked her screens before answering. “Yes, sir. Everyone’s here.”

  “Navigation, take us into the middle of the formation and maintain speed with the rest of the transports.”

  “Aye aye, sir.”

  “No reception party as of yet,” Aibek observed. “I wonder if anyone will show up.”

  David turned his head and grinned. “We’ll give them a vigorous welcome as long as they do, XO.”

  “Conn, communications! I’ve got an emergency distress signal coming in from the CSV Dutiful sir,” Taylor interjected.

  “On my viewer, Lieutenant,” David commanded.

  A couple of moments later, Colonel Dyson appeared on the screen above the CO’s chair. “Colonel Cohen, wasn’t sure you’d get this!” he said, with an explosion from a console and a blast of smoke appearing in the background. “We’ve been jumped by two Rands and several escorts. Can you assist?”

  “We just dropped out of Lawrence drive, Colonel,” David said, alarmed. Back to back jumps are always bad news.

  “Understood. Get here as soon as you can,” Dyson replied.

  “We’ll be there.”

  The screen went black, and David sat back in his chair. “Dang,” he muttered under his breath while he reached over to hit the commlink. “Cohen to Hanson, come in.”

  “Hanson here, sir.”

  “We need to execute an emergency long distance Lawrence drive jump. What’s our risk factor?”

  There was a pregnant pause on the open comm line. “Right now, five percent sir. If we can wait fifteen minutes, it’ll go down to one or two percent.”

  David closed his eyes and looked up at the ceiling. They don’t have fifteen minutes. “Prepare for immediate jump, Major.”

  “Aye aye, sir, Hanson out.”

  David opened his eyes and glanced toward Hammond. “Navigation, plot a Lawrence drive jump that puts us five hundred kilometers from the Dutiful’s last position.”

  “Aye aye, sir!”

  “Are you sure about this?” Aibek whispered into David’s ear.

  “Yeah. Two Rands will cut them to ribbons. Too many dead soldiers on my watch already, XO.”

  “We could end up dead too,” Aibek observed.

  “The odds are largely in our favor.”

  Aibek nodded, but his dour facial expression didn’t suggest much confidence. “What about these ships? If we depart, they will lack protection.”

  “I’ve got that covered,” David said with a grin.

  David punched the button on his chair for 1MC. “General quarters... General quarters, this is your commanding officer. Man your battle stations. I say again, man your battle stations! Set material condition one throughout the ship. This is not a drill. I say again, this is not a drill.” The rote procedure for calling the crew to man their posts was at this point, ingrained into him. Now the words just flowed off his tongue with little thought. The lights on the bridge dimmed to a blue color, and the general quarter's klaxon sounded, over and over.

  “Conn, TAO. Material condition one set throughout the ship, sir.”

  “Conn, Navigation! Course plotted and locked in, sir,” Hammond announced.

  David punched up the commlink to the air boss down in the central hangar bay. “Boss, this is Colonel Cohen. Launch the ready five fighter squadron!”

  “Aye aye, sir, launching now!” came the reply.

  “Conn, TAO, showing twelve SF-103 Phantoms safely away from the Lion,” Kelsey announced several seconds later.

  “Thank you, TAO,” David replied. “Navigation, activate Lawrence drive and take us in, Lieutenant.”

  “Aye aye, sir!”

  There were rumblings deep within the ship that caused vibrations in David’s chair as the Lawrence drive worked its magic. In front of the Lion, a multi-colored wormhole sprang open, a beautiful and majestic sight that still moved him after all the years in space. A testament to God’s handiwork. The ship glided through under sub-light power, the drive humming away. Having been through enough jumps to know every sound by heart, it was clear there was something wrong on this one. Hold it together, old girl.

  Suddenly, stars appeared in the large transparent metal window at the front of the bridge as the Lion returned to normal space. The tactical display that David watched began to flash red. “Conn, engineering!” The speaker on his chair crackled with Hanson’s voice. “Lawrence drive overheated, and we had a release of anti-protons.”

  Oh, snap. While not an engineer, David knew that if the wrong exotic elements were created by the drive and they annihilated i
n the wrong place, it could cause the drive to explode, destroying the ship. “Thank you, Major. We won’t be jumping for a bit.”

  “Conn, TAO! LIDAR online, I’m showing multiple enemy contacts.”

  “TAO, populate the board,” David barked before he turned in his chair to stare at the holoprojector well in the middle of the bridge. Red and blue icons came into being, showing the positions of ships relative to the Lion. “What’s the nearest enemy contact, TAO?”

  “Cobra class destroyer designated Master Nine, sir.” Hostile contacts were code-named “Master,” while friendly or neutral contacts were designated “Sierra.”

  “TAO, firing point procedures, Master Nine. Set firing solution for neutron beams,”

  “Firing solution set, sir.”

  “Match bearings, shoot, neutron beams.”

  Light blue lances of energy erupted from the neutron beam emitters on the Lion, and they instantly connected with the hapless League destroyer. After three blasts, the fourth found unshielded hull, while the fifth and sixth racked the enemy ship from bow to stern with explosions. Finally, the seventh beam found the main reactor and the destroyer exploded into two-foot sized chunks.

  “Conn, TAO! Master Nine destroyed,”

  “TAO, status of Rand class cruisers?”

  “They’re attacking the Dutiful and a frigate, sir. Wait, aspect change, all League contacts! League ships are powering their Lawrence drives.”

  “TAO, snap shot, closest ships to us, neutron beams and magnetic cannons!” David ordered, not even bothering to give ship designations. She shouldn’t need me to handhold there.

  “Aye aye, sir.”

  David’s eyes were glued to his tactical monitor as Kelsey fired off most of the charged neutron beam emitters on the ship, as well as the forward magnetic cannons. Most of the magnetic cannon shots missed, but a couple connected. One brace of shells hit a Lancer-class frigate, which she followed up with neutron beams. A few seconds later, the hapless vessel exploded. Either the reactor went critical or one of the hits impacted a munitions magazine.

  “Conn, TAO! Master three destroyed, sir. All other enemy contacts have jumped. We’re clear!”