by Christi Smit
Moments later Nathan was behind to the creature, and before it could turn or scream Nathan slid his combat blade into the back of its neck. The blade stilled the creature’s grunting and silenced it before it could bark or scream for help.
Its limp body slipped from Nathan’s combat blade as Christian approached his brother.
Christian’s emotions were bubbling over by the time he reached the door, placing his left hand on it to inspect its surface.
“What?” Nathan asked.
Christian turned to his brother. “We should have brought Xander with us,” he said jokingly.
Jessica woke up with a shock, her hand gripping a pistol she could not remember owning. Her eyes were still painfully red, blurring her vision as she tried to focus on her surroundings. She felt Tristan shift on her shoulder and slowly reality reasserted itself back into her mind.
She blinked cautiously, looking down at the pistol, finally recognizing the weapon she had been carrying ever since the problems had started. But she could not remember why she had it in her hand, and if she was honest with herself she did not want to know.
Jessica looked at her sister, brushing the dirty girl’s hair from her face while checking her breathing. Tristan was weak, but at least her breathing was still normal. She glanced over to where Sam was sleeping, the poor man had fallen asleep exactly where he had fixed the beacon, his head just falling backwards on a filthy pillow.
Sleep had finally caught up with him, and he had not moved since his triumph.
Nash shifted under his table, his head raised slightly as if he was trying to hear something.
Jessica was about to ask, but the loud thumping sound answered her question before she could voice it.
The entire emergency bunker rattled as another even louder noise echoed from outside.
A third and final sound of metal hitting metal breached the bunker’s door. The thick steel door buckled and one of its reinforced hinges splintered from the force of the blow.
Nash reached for his old rusty shotgun, arming it with a slow and quiet action.
Jessica could not see the entrance to the bunker; she could only see Nash raise his shotgun to aim it at the door. Sam remained absolutely still, aiming his pistol at the door as well.
A moment went by in complete silence. No-one dared to speak or threaten whatever was trying to get into the bunker. Maybe the creature would leave if it thought that there was nothing worth feasting on inside. Jessica doubted it. The smell of unwashed bodies was bad enough to draw beasts from the next city over.
Nash’s eyes widened and the expression on his face changed from caution to something Jessica had not seen on the man’s face before. His beard obstructed his broad smile as the old man started chuckling. Sam’s pistol dropped slowly and relief was written across his face. He looked at Jessica, his thick glasses filthy with sweat and grime, but the look in his eyes spoke a thousand words.
Armoured hands tore the door from its last hinges and bright lights mounted on armoured shoulders and helmets lit up the dark interior of the bunker.
Jessica’s instinct was to raise her own pistol but her strength had left her, and she hoped that Sam’s expression meant that something good was about to happen. All of them needed a win.
The lights scanned the room, one set settled on Sam and Jessica could see a large armoured figure crouch down beside the smaller engineer. The figure placed a hand gently on Sam’s tired shoulder and shook him like a proud father would congratulate a deserving son.
The second set of lights settled on Nash, but turned away from the old man to the door leading to where Jessica and Tristan rested against the pantry wall.
The second figure appeared in the door, its armour was dirty and scarred from battle, but it still filled the doorway with its stature and heroic presence.
Christian’s head tilted, shutting off the bright lights before he blinded the two people he had been hoping to see. He crouched down in front of the sisters, words escaping him.
Jessica raised a hand to shield herself from the lights as the armoured man crouched in front of her and Tristan.
At first she did not realize who the man was, but slowly it started dawning on her. The Operator number on the man’s chest caught her eye instantly. QC0021-13 was written in silver letters, still gleaming even in the low light of the bunker’s pantry.
The code triggered many memories in Jessica’s mind, and she reached up to touch the code, feeling the silver letters and numbers with her fingers.
“Christian?” she said, sounding almost reserved as if she was afraid that the answer would be disappointing.
“Jess...” Christian said. His voice was filled with relief.
Before he could say more Jessica hugged Christian with all of her strength and if she was any stronger she would have cracked the Anctinium plating.
Christian hugged the woman he loved back, careful not to hurt her. He grasped Tristan with his right hand, squeezing her arm softly. “Are you ok little one?” he asked Tristan.
Tristan smiled widely, nodding at Christian. She reached for him as well, and together with her sister hugged the Titan with all of the joy they possessed.
The miracle they had been hoping for had shown up.
“We have to move. Company will be showing up soon,” Nathan said from behind Christian.
Nathan was helping Nash up and brushing the dust off Sam. All Titans had great respect for Sam. None of them would be able to do the things they did without Sam and his work with their armoured suits. To all Titans Sam was the real hero behind their great feats of strength and courage.
“Can you stand?” Christian asked Jessica.
“Yes, but I don’t think Tristan can,” Jessica replied.
“I will carry her.” Christian released the sisters and looked at Tristan. “If that is ok with you, little one?”
“As long as you don’t drop me,” Tristan replied with a smile on her face.
Christian grinned inside his visor. He picked up Tristan with one arm and helped Jessica up with the other. “Ready,” he said, turning to face Nathan.
“Alright, we move fast and quietly. There will be no breaks, we can’t carry all of you so you have to keep up,” Nathan said to everyone present.
Nathan would lead the way, Sam and Nash behind him and then Jessica. Christian would bring up the rear while carrying Tristan.
It took them only a few seconds to quietly move down the corridor and back to the staircase the Titan brothers had ascended to reach the third floor.
Hopefully nothing was waiting for them at the bottom of the dark staircase.
The Hyperion burst back into normal space to a different scene than the one it had left behind.
Many vessels had answered the Hyperion’s call for help, and all of them were doing their best to rescue whoever was still alive on the surface of New Horizon.
Gray knew some of the vessels by their names and reputations, others he had never seen or heard of before.
Like a net the vessels had spread out around the orbit of New Horizon, dropping life boats and shuttles down to the dying planet’s surface.
The Hyperion approached the orbital space above Santor, slowly edging towards its previous drop point. Gray did not want to make any of the vessels nervous, and make an already dire situation worse. Misunderstandings in situations like this could cause nervous trigger fingers to itch and blow a hole in the wrong hull.
A smaller science vessel turned as the Hyperion approached its position, scanning the new arrival with its advanced systems.
“Hyperion...state your intentions,” a woman’s voice with complete calm demanded.
“Rescue,” Gray replied.
“Hail Hyperion,” the woman said, “you are most welcome. Proceed.”
“What are your intentions?” Gray asked. He could not risk trusting strangers so easily, not after what had transpired.
The voice that answered belonged to a different person, a woman spoke
that sounded as if she constantly had honey in her throat. Her voice soothed Gray’s ears the moment he heard it, and he tried everything he could not to show himself blushing in front of Remy. “I am Captain Amanda Volk, pilot and commanding officer of the Immortal Terran, lead science vessel in charge of the fifth expedition to the dead zones. We heard the call to come to New Horizon’s aid, and our entire flotilla answered.”
“Then you have the Hyperion’s thanks, we thought our words would fall on deaf ears.” Gray said.
There was silence for a few moments. “It is true then? That we have been betrayed from within?”
Gray sighed, the weight of the meaning behind what he was about to say heavy on his shoulders. “We have, and the traitors are far from done, this was only the first piece in a larger plan. All of us will do well to make haste and leave this place before the wretch returns with his fleet.”
“How long do we have?” Captain Volk asked.
“Minutes, if that,” Gray replied flatly.
Volk did not close the channel as she ordered her crew to spread the word that hell was heading their way.
The news spread through the vessels orbiting New Horizon, a few turning almost immediately to make for open space far away from the dying planet.
Gray did not blame those ship’s captains and their decision to run, most of them were civilian transports and had almost nothing to protect them against the magnitude of firepower heading for New Horizon.
The Hyperion drifted into position next to the Immortal Terran, the cruiser dwarfing the science vessel in its shadow. The Immortal Terran did not move, and Gray saw more life boats drop from its belly, falling towards the surface below.
“Aren’t you leaving, Captain?” Gray asked the woman with the soothing voice.
“Never, our ships are staying until there is nothing left to save,” Captain Volk answered.
“We are honoured to make this stand by your side Captain Volk. Together we might just survive the next few hours.” Gray was choked up, the heroism of humankind never ceased to amaze him.
“As are we, our sister ships are moving into position to blockade the open space behind us. Their guns will grant us a little time to finish collecting the souls trapped below.”
“Then we should not waste time any longer, good luck to you Captain, see you on the other side.”
Captain Volk agreed and cut the link to the Hyperion, calmly ordering her crew and pilots to launch whatever they had left for one final pickup.
Gray tilted his head to Remy who had stood up from her safety chair behind him. She placed her delicate hand on the old man’s shoulder and squeezed with enough force to fill Gray with what little courage he had left. “Bring them all back my dear. No-one gets left behind,” he said as he looked into Remy’s tired eyes.
Remy nodded and was already ordering the communication officers to make contact with the Maiden of Flame and her flight support when the first of Lord Vincent’s fleet arrived.
At first only a few scout escorts arrived, but as the minutes went by larger vessels appeared behind the, carrying more firepower than the defenders of New Horizon could ever hope to muster. Within a handful of minutes twenty-nine traitor vessels were bearing down on the blockade protecting New Horizon.
Soon everyone that still believed in the salvation and protection of humankind would be fighting for their very lives, and soon many of them would perish as they stood against a tide of evil, never breaking, buying others vital time to protect our race’s bleak future.
The primary extraction point was relatively clear by the time the remnants of the convoy had reached it. Only a few stragglers had scurried about, but were all soon nothing but bloody stains on the cement courtyard in the middle of the industrial complex Locke and Sabian had chosen.
Gunn and her sister ships had circled the extraction point, strafing everything that moved with their heavy weapons mounted under their short, stocky wings.
Fighter squadrons were still battling the traitors in the skies above Santor, fighting through the night into early morning without respite. Twenty-one Crescent fighters had dropped with the ground forces, and now only nine remained in the air.
The rising sun had dawned on ten fighters utterly destroyed and two pilot-ejects before their fighters could consume them with flame. All of the pilots were considered KIA. Their deaths had been a high price to pay, but together they had destroyed fifty-five enemy fighters. It was a number almost unheard of in aerial warfare history and a number that would cement the squadrons in legend forever. The remaining fighters from the Flying Tigers, squadrons Alpha, Bravo and Delta, had banded together after so many loses and were punishing the enemy as one single swarm of metal fury. Their silhouettes could be seen against the rising sun as they circled beyond the perimeter of the drop ships, darting in and out of formation, keeping the skies clear for the Maiden and her support to pick up the battered ground forces.
The convoy came to a shaky halt in the chosen courtyard. Soldiers that were still able to fire their weapons took positions wherever there was cover to be found.
Heavy weapons were hastily mounted on broken walls and piles of rubble that used to be walls, covering as many entries into the courtyard as humanly possible.
Sabian was with his men, speaking to them as he walked among them, shouldering his personal marksman rifle.
Locke finished contacting his wayward second in command before he moved to speak to his Wolves, all three of them stood nearby speaking in hushed tones. “What’s the problem sergeant?” Locke asked Rivers as he joined his Wolves in the shadow of what used to be a cement smoke stack.
“This business with Nathan and the rookie is not sitting well with us. We can’t leave them behind,” Rivers said.
“I will not leave them. They are my brothers,” Pyoter added.
Xander nodded in agreement, “I don’t know the rookie that well yet, but he is a Wolf, and that means we stick together. You know that better than any of us, Captain.”
“They chose to risk their lives to pursue another target. If they are not back by the time everyone is ready to leave they will be left here. My mandate does not allow me to risk the lives of the people under our charge because of personal reasons.”
Locke’s words had a visible effect on his squad. They had to reluctantly agree with what he said. Their job was to keep the people safe, not risk their lives unnecessarily. The Wolves were soldiers first and foremost, and their orders were clear, even if the situation changed around them.
“Besides,” Locke continued, “they are less than a mile from here, and they should make it.” Locke smiled as he finished speaking. He loved to see his squad band together, even if it was to countermand his own orders.
“You are a sick man,” Xander said, shaking his head in disbelief.
The Wolves shared a final chuckle together before the enemy would be upon them again. The activity in the air above the extraction point would draw in anything and everything unfriendly in the area around the industrial zones.
A drop was always a complicated manoeuvre, especially when it came to extraction. The easy part was dodging ground and air attacks to get your cargo down, and then things just went to shit from there. Somehow pilots had to stick around until extraction after drop-off, flying around mindlessly to support the ground forces and at the same time keeping their own asses in the air. If that wasn’t enough, pilots were then expected to clear pickup and extraction points alone, and then circle until the ground forces were ready to leave. And the cherry on top of that crap cake that was an extraction, was all of the hustle and bustle alerting even more enemies to their position and intentions.
It almost never went to plan, and everyone was already tired and tense from previous battles. Everyone on the ground and in the air was already expecting something to go wrong, and it was only a matter of time before it did.
Once the civilians and injured were ready to be extracted the first drop ship would dart down and be loaded
as quickly as possible. One by one the drop ships would dive and land to pick up everyone they could, the last drop ship always taking the most damage from whatever was encircling the ground forces.
Until then, the soldiers on the ground would have to hold of anything that approached them with hostile intent, and Gunn could already see the enemy approaching from the south.
Gunn mumbled something about she might as well have a target painted on her backside before she opened a channel to Locke and Sabian. Jinx did not dare to laugh when Gunn was in one of her moods, and he valued his life more than making fun of her grumpiness.
“Enemies are approaching from the south Captain Locke. We are pulling back in case they have anti air weapons. We count a shit load of troops and at least two anti-personnel vehicles. We will support you as much as we can, but we can’t risk being shot down. Gunn out.” Gunn cut the link after both Locke and Sabian acknowledged her assessment, pulling back on the Maiden’s flight stick, bringing the drop ship into a high loop away from the approaching enemies.
“What’s coming?” Lemink asked. He was crouched beside Locke, his rifle peaking over a low wall facing the south side of the courtyard.
“Hell, but this time they aren’t the biting kind. Keep your head down and keep firing,” Locke said to Lemink. He switched his helmet speakers to full volume. “All of you! Keep firing and hold your positions! Concentrate your fire on the troops. The Wolves will take care of the heavies. Whatever you do, don’t die! They don’t accept hero’s names in the books of legends if you shit yourself! Give them hell brothers!” Locke finished with a raised fist, cementing his resolve to his squad and the soldiers around them.
“Good speech,” Xander said sarcastically.
The soldiers and Wolves roared with renewed fervour as the traitors drew ever closer. Hands tightened against rifle grips and sweat poured down nervous foreheads. But their courage would have to hold until the end, if it did not then everything they had fought for in Santor would be for nothing.