Gates of Hell

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Gates of Hell Page 8

by Daniel Gibbs


  “I don’t know your name. I don’t care what it is. I don’t care about you, except that you die tonight. My Christian friends at school say that if you sin against God, you’ll go to hell. They say it’s a place where demons torture you for all eternity in a lake of fire,” Ruth said as she aimed the pistol directly into his eyes. “I hope they’re right.”

  Without hesitation, Ruth squeezed the trigger again, sending another bullet directly into his brain. Shock began to set in, not that she had killed them, but that she was still alive. One teenager vs four Leaguers. Maybe the resistance slogans about defeating the League have truth in them. She tucked the pistol into her pants, walked back to the safe, and took the money chip, along with a tablet of a design she’d never seen before. I’m going to find the resistance, and I’m going to keep killing Leaguers. As she walked out into the night, sirens wailed in the distance.

  “After that, I was found wandering by the resistance. They took me in and trained me. I put a lot of League garrison troops down with them, until the fleet arrived and the TCMC retook our planet,” Ruth said, finishing up her story.

  “Lieutenant,” MacDonald began. “I apologize. I had no idea. You realize we do what we do in good fun, I hope.”

  Ruth looked across the barn at him, from where she had sat down during the recounting of her parent’s death. “Oh, I know you do, Master Chief. I’ve been in the CDF for almost twelve years. I’ve hazed many a newly minted soldier, but this is personal for me, you understand?”

  “I do, but you also must understand it can’t be personal. Personal feelings get in the way of the mission.”

  “You’re probably right, Master Chief. Right now, though, on this planet, it’s real. There’s got to be a place where you’d feel the same.”

  “More than one.” MacDonald pursed his lips and bit down on the edge of his lips. “Can I count on you to stay focused, LT?”

  Ruth smiled thinly. “As long as by ‘stay focused,’ you mean killing as many Leaguers as possible and liberating my home? Yeah. You can count on me to be very focused on the objective.”

  “Not quite what I meant, but it’s a start. Let’s go meet these people more formally and see if we can gain some intelligence.”

  “After you, Master Chief,” Ruth replied and stood up from her perch. Twelve years. Only God himself knows how many Leaguers I’ve killed. It’s still not enough.

  9

  David adjusted himself in the CO’s chair on the Lion’s bridge, staring up at the tactical plot. The cooldown for the ship’s Lawrence drive had just ended, and he was itching to get moving. I can feel the League out there, hunting Colonel Dyson. It’s up to us to turn the tide and send them running. He stretched his neck and fixed the ballcap he wore that bore the insignia of the Lion of Judah and her motto: Semper Anticus. “Always on the frontline.” Ever popular with the crew, he tolerated them. I prefer regular cover, but who cares if it helps morale. His mind snapped back to the task at hand.

  “Navigation, confirm our exit coordinates,” David ordered.

  “Lawrence drive coordinates confirmed, sir,” Hammond said.

  “We jump in, launch our fighters, jump as soon as our minimum cooldown period expires, and hope we catch the League with their pants down?” Aibek asked quietly from the XOs chair.

  “That’s the plan,” David replied. “My thought is that the League commander will have timed how long it took us to respond last time from the initial distress call. From there, he’ll calibrate hit and run tactics to match.”

  “Logical.”

  “We’ll be effectively executing a time-on-target attack,” David continued.

  “A what?”

  “It’s an old term for an artillery attack in which rounds from multiple batteries hit within three seconds of each other.”

  “Saurians call that multiple rounds, simultaneous impact.”

  David smirked a bit. “We always have to dress something up with a cute term, don’t we?”

  “That is the military for you, sir,” Aibek replied with a chuckle.

  David punched up the 1MC link on his chair and spoke. “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 energy level on the bridge spiked up even more than David was used to; the crew seemed to be genuinely excited to get back into combat. The lights dimmed to a blue hue, allowing console screens to have more evident contrast.

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

  “Conn, communications. Civilian ships report jump readiness,” Taylor interjected.

  “Communications, signal the fleet to jump when we do. Navigation, execute Lawrence drive jump,” David commanded. I can’t help but think I’m missing the bigger picture here. Right now, we’re playing the League’s game. We need to get back to playing our game.

  “Conn, Navigation. Commencing jump!”

  The lights on the bridge dimmed just a tad, signaling the start of the sequence that culminated with the opening of an artificial wormhole directly in front of the ship. Moving forward on sub-light thrust, the Lion glided through the multi-colored maw and a kaleidoscope of colors. Popping out on the other side, there was a pause of several seconds as the systems of the ship came back online; standard procedure after a jump.

  “Conn, TAO. LIDAR online, our flock of heavy lifters are jumping in.”

  “Thank you, TAO,” David said. “Communications, get me Colonel Amir.”

  A moment later, Amir’s face appeared, framed by his head encapsulating flight helmet. “Ready to rock and roll, Colonel?” David asked.

  “Always, sir,” Amir responded. “Major Hume is standing by with the rest of the wing on ready five, just in case.”

  “Excellent,” David said. “You’re cleared to launch, Colonel. Good luck, good hunting, and Godspeed!”

  “Ila’liqaa’, Colonel Cohen.”

  Until we meet again, indeed. The screen blinked out. David steepled his fingers together and waited. The bridge was quiet beyond the background murmurs of enlisted personnel working their various stations. On his tactical display, he had configured two timers. One for the time to the Dutiful and its convoy’s next jump, the other counting down before when the Lion could safely jump without the risk of exotic particle creation.

  “Worried?” Aibek asked.

  “Mildly,” David replied. “Always before combat.” He closed his eyes briefly and looked down. “God, please have mercy on those who serve under my command. If it is Your will, please allow them to come home safely to their families. I pray this for Colonel Dyson and all the soldiers on this mission. Amen,” he whispered.

  As was usual for David by now, the time before engagement crept by. The waiting sucks.

  “Navigation, plot Lawrence drive jump for Colonel Dyson’s projected position,” David ordered.

  “Aye aye, sir,” Hammond replied crisply.

  “TAO, load high explosive rounds into all magnetic cannons.”

  “Aye aye, sir,” Kelsey said.

  “Conn, Navigation. Lawrence drive coordinates plotted and inputted into the jump computer.”

  “Navigation, stand by to jump on my command,” David answered.

  It took another five minutes of the timer creeping down to zero before the Lion could safely jump. I hope to heck this works. “Navigation, execute Lawrence drive jump!”

  Again, the Lion crossed vast distances in the blink of an eye; her ability to do so a technological advance that stood above nearly all others in the history of mankind. After re-entering normal space, the ship’s sensors came back online a few seconds later.

  “Conn, TAO. Reading only friendly contacts, including CSV Dutiful, her battlegroup, and thirty-seven freighters,” Kelsey announced.

  “TAO, populate the board with all Sierra contacts,” David ordered.


  Immediately, the holoprojector in the middle of the bridge sprang to life with dozens of blue icons, each signifying a friendly ship. David’s tactical plot also came alive, showing the same information but in a more concise manner.

  “Communications, please send Colonel Dyson my compliments, and integrate us into his tactical command network.”

  “Aye aye, sir,” Taylor replied.

  “TAO, raise shields, charge the energy weapons capacitor.”

  “Aye, sir, shields up and energy weapons capacitor charging,” Kelsey answered. A moment later, her voice went up in volume. “Conn, TAO! Inbound wormholes… League signature!”

  “This is it, people,” David said as he leaned forward on his chair. A jumble of unidentified contacts appeared on his tactical plot.

  “Conn, TAO! Four Rand class cruisers designated Master One, Two, Three, and Four, escorted by twenty-plus Cobra class destroyers.”

  That’s a lot more ships than we were expecting. David forced fear and emotion from his face and stared at the plot. They would have finished off Dyson and his task force. I’m more convinced than ever something more is at work here.

  “TAO, snap shot, Master One and Two, neutron beams and magnetic cannons.”

  If we can hit them hard enough before they regain primary systems function, that’ll even up the odds.

  “Aye aye, sir,” Kelsey called back as she got to work.

  The Lion’s massive magnetic cannon turrets rotated and belched their high-explosive shells toward the League ships, while neutron beams stabbed into the dark of space. The snap shot didn’t have an affirmative firing solution attached to it and was in effect a best guess. Even so, many of the weapons connected with their targets.

  “Conn, TAO. Master Two disabled, sir. Master One shields reduced to twenty-eight percent. Aspect change, all enemy contacts, sir! Sub-light engine light off. Master One, Three, and Four are heading directly for us, while their escorts are on a bearing toward the Dutiful and her battlegroup.”

  David looked up at his tactical plot, which showed what Kelsey had just reported. Why would they charge us? Three Rands versus this ship is a one-way death sentence. What am I not seeing? The Lion shuddered as multiple impacts from League plasma weaponry impacted on its shields. On the tactical plot, the available shield power dropped precipitously.

  “It would appear that some League cruisers now have upgraded weaponry, not unlike the battleships we encountered at Unity station,” Aibek interjected.

  “Noted, XO.”

  “TAO, firing point procedures, Master One, neutron beams,” David ordered, waiting for the magnetic cannons to be reloaded by the automated systems.

  “Conn, TAO, firing solution set for Master One,” Kelsey replied.

  “TAO, match bearings, shoot, neutron beams.”

  Again, the Lion struck her foes; multiple impacts quickly collapsed the remaining shields on the cruiser, and the ship was gutted from bow to stern with energy beams that turned its hull molten. There was only so much punishment the vessel could take; it exploded when something explosive within—a weapons magazine or fuel bunkerage—was hit. After a matter of seconds, nothing but debris the size of a plate was left.

  Staring at the tactical plot, David couldn’t help but feel sorrow for the lives snuffed out in an instant. Even though they’re my enemy, dying in a split second with no hope to save yourself is a cruel fate I don’t wish on anyone… except maybe Seville.

  “Conn, TAO. Master One destroyed.”

  “TAO, make the forward VRLS tubes one through one hundred and twenty ready in all respects, open outer doors.”

  “Aye aye, sir.”

  The remaining two cruisers poured on more plasma cannon fire; while impressive, they just weren’t strong enough to batter down the Lion’s shields. While staring at the tactical plot, David noticed that several friendly icons had blinked out; the League forces were putting on a beating, especially on the Meade-class frigates in Dyson’s group.

  “Conn, TAO. Forward VRLS tubes one through one hundred and twenty ready in all respects, sir, outer doors are open.”

  “TAO, firing point procedures, Master Three and Four, magnetic cannons and neutron beams.”

  “Conn, TAO. Firing solutions set, sir!”

  “TAO, firing point procedures, forward VRLS, ten Hunters, twenty Starbolts. Transfer control to the Dutiful once launched.”

  “Aye aye, sir,” Kelsey replied.

  “Match bearings, shoot, all weapons,” David commanded.

  Magnetic cannon rounds weighing as much as a helicar raced out from the Lion of Judah at speeds approaching a tenth the speed of light. Crossing the black of space unseen, they slammed into the League cruisers and wreaked havoc on their shields. Followed up with neutron beams, both ships suffered significant hull damage. At the same time, thirty warheads launched over fifteen seconds from the Lion’s forward VRLS. On the tactical plot, David watched as their icons merged with those of several League escorts, a number of which were destroyed outright.

  “Conn, TAO. Aspect change, all enemy contacts! Lawrence drive activation, sir!”

  Enemy icons began to blink out, one after the other, as they fled the battle. “No way their drives had cooled off long enough,” Aibek observed. “The League commander must have been desperate.”

  “Strange behavior,” David muttered. “I would have expected them to ground down the task force and then retreat.”

  “Perhaps our missile salvo bloodied them more than we realize?”

  David shrugged, unsure. He continued to stare at the plot and realized that one League contact remained. “TAO, status of Master One?”

  “Master One did not jump, sir. I show a failure in her Lawrence drive on my scan. It looks like her reactor was SCRAMed,” Kelsey answered.

  “Navigation, intercept course, Master One.”

  “Aye aye, sir,” Hammond tersely replied.

  David punched a sequence into his commlink and was rewarded with Demood’s voice. “What can I do for you, Colonel Cohen?”

  “I need a VBSS team on deck. We’ve got a disabled League cruiser, and I want answers from her crew and officers as to how they’ve been jumping our convoys. Make sure to instruct your teams to use non-lethal ammunition at all times and avoid destroying computer systems as well as data storage devices as much as possible,” David said.

  “Yes, sir. I’ll get our recon Marines and the other special space warfare operators ready to go. Demood out.”

  David clicked off the commlink and glanced over to Aibek. “Maybe we can get some answers.”

  “I’m unsure what you expect to get without enhanced interrogation techniques.”

  “Is that a nice way of saying torture?” David mused.

  “Many words used by humans have a different definition to us,” Aibek replied with a toothy grin.

  “Throughout our history, we’ve been confronted by a choice between the expediency of taking short-term gain over what we know to be right. Humane treatment of prisoners is one of those choices. Lieutenant Taylor, see if you can get whoever is in charge over on Master One to reply to us,” David said, switching gears.

  “Aye aye, sir,” Taylor replied. “I’m not getting any response from them, sir.”

  “Conn, TAO!” Kelsey interrupted. “Aspect change, Master One! Her reactor is going critical!”

  Through the transparent metal windows on the bridge, David watched as the League cruiser exploded, a bright smear of orange against the deep of space. A moment later, it was gone, no evidence that the vessel ever existed.

  “TAO, did you see any evidence of an uncontrolled reaction occurring in your scans?” David demanded.

  “No, sir… their reactor was SCRAMed.”

  “Are you thinking that they blew themselves up on purpose?” Aibek questioned.

  “That’s exactly what I’m thinking, XO.”

  “Since when do Leaguers blow themselves up rather than surrender?”

  �
�Never,” David deadpanned. “Because we give them three hots and a cot. TAO, secure material condition one, stand down battle stations. Communications, notify all department heads I want them in the conference room in sixty minutes to discuss our next steps, and pass my request on to Colonel Dyson for him to attend.”

  Walking over the threshold into the farmhouse proper was like a journey through time for Ruth. She recognized devices like oil lamps, an old-style clothes washer and the like from history books she’d studied as a child. To see people living like this in the 25th century is something else entirely, she thought. Such a different way of life than what I’m used to.

  It was apparent that the house had already been woken up; several team members stood in the foyer of the home, while Ruth heard Susanna’s voice talking in a different language. “I think that’s German,” she remarked to MacDonald, who was right beside her.

  “Yeah, I think you’re right. I don’t speak it.”

  “I’m fluent in Hebrew and English,” Ruth said with a grin. “I knew a few words of French too.”

  “Let me guess, some colorful metaphors you shouted at the League?”

  “Guilty as charged, Master Chief,” Ruth replied as she walked forward toward the voices. Upon walking into what looked like a living room, she took in the sight of two adults that were attired in rustic Amish clothing, and Susanna, who was still crying as she spoke.

  “Hi,” Ruth said to the room at large. “I’m Lieutenant Ruth Goldberg, Coalition Defense Force. These gentlemen are also with the CDF.”

  The older man, who Ruth assumed was Susanna’s father, stepped forward, looking her up and down. He had on a blue shirt and worn denim pants. His face was rugged with a square jaw. “I am Ezekiel Nussbaum. This is my wife, Mary. You’ve met my youngest daughter, Susanna. I believe I have you to thank for her safe condition,” he said, with the same slight German accent.

 

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