by PP Corcoran
Alec felt a surge of pride. ‘C’ Company had suffered fifty-three dead from a fighting force of eighty marines. According to Alec’s readouts the remaining twenty-seven had all sustained injuries to varying degrees. With all his officers and senior NCOs dead, Semple had assumed command continuing the mission until its successful conclusion.
Alec checked the arrival time of the second wave again. The clock wasn’t going fast enough for Alec’s liking and not for the first time that day he wished he could control time.
“Sergeant. You’ll have a team from ‘D’ Company with you in twelve minutes. Murray clear.” A flashing icon in his display told Alec that Captain Tanaka was waiting to speak with him.
“Go for Murray.”
“Sir. If you’ll check your schematic it looks like we’ve identified the computer core.”
Alec scanned the schematics now showing in his display. An area located at almost the centre of the ship was highlighted in yellow. It appeared heavily shielded, one small area at the heart, seemingly constructed of the same type of battle armour as the ship’s hull.
Alec’s brow furrowed in thought, it seemed to be overkill. If the ship was struck by a weapon that could penetrate this deep surely the ship would be lost? Why bother protecting this one comparatively tiny area to such an extent. Alec mentally shrugged, there was only one way to find out. Alec pulled up his marines positions. His display showed Teams Five and Six, the other two amidships teams, were making their way horizontally along their respective decks - away from the computer core.
“Okay, Captain that looks like our objective. Order Teams Five and Six to make their way there now.” Tanaka cut the link to pass the necessary orders while Alec contemplated his next problem.
The Buzzard’s battle armour was blocking all communication with anything beyond the hull, he couldn’t talk to either the Admiral or the shuttles carrying the second wave. At least that problem had an easy answer. Alec punched in the link for his two man security/headquarter team. Gunny Wanderman and Corporal Fredricks.
“Gunny. You and Fredricks remain here. We’ll use your suit’s comm units to act as a relay for the marines inside the hull to the outside world. I’ll stay with Captain Tanaka.”
With a curt “Aye aye Sir” the Gunny and Fredricks moved into the cover of the inner airlock and almost immediately the icon for the flag ship began blinking.
“Go for Murray.”
“Thought we’d lost you there for a minute,” came the concerned voice of John Radford before turning business-like, “Sitrep?”
“Admiral we’re taking casualties but we believe we have secured the engineering section. We are confident that we have identified the missile bays, the bridge and the computer core and I have teams moving to secure them now. The Buzzard’s crew are putting up stiff resistance in places but on the deployment of the second wave I am sure that I can secure our objectives.”
“Understood Alec. Keep your head down.”
“That’s one thing you can be assured of. Murray clear.”
Changing channels Alec stood up. “Let’s go Captain.”
#
Gunny Wanderman followed the progress of the various teams and the imminent arrival of the reinforcement shuttles with one eye whilst keeping a wary look-out for the enemy with the other. He clocked Corporal Fredricks bracing herself in the upper corner of the airlock with her head poking out of the jagged remains of the outer airlock door, presumably to allow her suit’s surveillance systems to get a clear image of the outer hull until its curved shape took it out of line of sight. Wanderman’s thoughts were interrupted by a call from Fredricks.
“Gunny I’ve got movement on the hull.”
Wanderman brought the image up on his display. Sure enough he made out at least four spacesuited figures cresting the curve of the hull about twenty meters from the airlock. None of the suits were transmitting an IFF code. Wanderman’s heart rate rose several beats per minute, what were the enemy doing on the hull? He didn’t have to wait long for an answer. Two of the enemy figures raised a long tube onto their shoulders. Missiles!
Wanderman activated the emergency link on his suit, automatically overriding all other broadcasts on the marine net. “Vampire. Vampire. Enemy soldiers on the hull with missiles. Location twenty meters ship north of airlock four I am engaging with small arms. Wanderman clear.”
Fredricks had already swung her whole body up through the outer airlock and was firing at the enemy soldiers. As Wanderman pushed himself upwards to join her he saw Fredricks’ shake then, in gruesome slow motion he watched her lower half, neatly cauterized just above the pelvis, fall backwards into the airlock. Macabrely Fredericks’ remains hung, suspended by the suit’s magnetic boots - of her torso there was no sign.
Wanderman stuck his rifle up through the airlock and used his suit’s targeting system to show him the enemy soldiers. Fredricks must have downed two before her demise, there were only two left. One had taken cover behind a large section of damaged hull that denied Wanderman a clean shot. The other, however, was advancing towards his position as fast as his magnetic boots would allow, he made no attempt to move from cover to cover. More fool you thought Wanderman as he fired off an aimed shot which struck the advancing soldier squarely in the chest. The plasma round was traveling at a significant portion of the speed of light and went through the soldiers armoured chest like it wasn’t even there. Exiting through the back of the suit it carried on into the infinity of space. Wanderman was contemplating moving onto the hull to get a clean shot at the remaining soldier when the shrill tone of a proximity warning sounded in his ear, interrupting his thought process. The star light around him disappeared as a Buffalo shuttle came to a stop not two meters above him. The nose of the Buffalo was pointed at the section of damaged hull behind which the enemy soldier was hiding and as Wanderman looked on the nose mounted rapid fire plasma cannon discharged. The section of the hull and the soldier vanished in a brilliant flash. Twenty fully armed and Wraith suited marines dropped beside him and headed through the airlock to join the fight. The blinking icon of an incoming call caught Wanderman’s attention.
He activated the link. That warm, honey-like voice said “Thank you kindly for the heads up Gunny. The other Buffaloes are reporting that missile teams were waiting for them at each of the airlocks. That could have been a nasty surprise if you hadn’t got that warning out”
Despite recent events Wanderman smiled. “My pleasure Ma’am.”
“I think maybe we should hang around for a while in case you need any more flies scratched off your back.”
“I’m obliged. Wanderman clear.”
#
Deep in the hull Alec Murray and Team Four were closing on their objective. The suspected computer core. During a natural pause between tactical bounds Alec took a minute to check on the progress of the teams in the forty minutes since the initial breaching action.
What appeared to be the main missile magazine had been secured with the minimum amount of casualties by Teams Two and Three. The Lieutenants in charge of each team had gotten their heads together and came up with the idea, quickly adopted by all Team Leaders, of using a small charge on every bulkhead door they came across. The ones on either side of their route of advance got a charge large enough to buckle the frame making the doors inoperable. The ones on the actual route of advance were blown open and left that way. The net effect was that the entire line of advance was left in hard vacuum trapping the ship’s crew in the areas which still retained atmosphere. On reaching the missile bay the marines had simply blown the bulkheads and allowed the atmosphere to escape before entering to minimal opposition. It may seem cruel to some but it kept marine casualties and collateral damage to a minimum. A good thing too as Team Two reported that the crew had been in the process of rigging some of the nuclear missiles with dead man switches which would have allowed them to be detonated by hand rather than electronically. The detonation of a few nukes would have destroyed the ship, the cre
w and the marines.
Captain Brandon had managed to circumvent his immediate opposition by blasting his way through the deck plates but Brandon reported stiffening opposition from armoured soldiers as he approached the bridge area but he was confident that with the imminent arrival of reinforcements he could take the bridge in short order.
Sergeant Semple held the engineering spaces with the arrival of fresh marines he was in the process of evacuating his wounded, although he refused to leave himself. Memories of 70 Ophiuchi came to mind and Alec wondered if he was going to have no choice but to send Gunny Wanderman to engineering to remind Semple of the consequences of refusing to obey orders.
“Moving.”
The call on Team Four’s net brought Alec back to his current position. By the schematics reckoning Team Four was less than twenty meters from the area which showed the heaviest shielding. The lead marine made his way to the corner of the corridor and went to one knee as he extended his rifle in front of him giving it, and by extension, his suit which passed the image to the other suits of the team a clear look along the marines’ line of advance. Alec had the fleetest of moments to identify a barricaded position as the entire corner where the lead marine was kneeling exploded outward flinging the marine clear across the corridor where he bounced off the far wall and lay still. The red blinking name Morales appeared then disappeared in Alec’s display.
The marines around him hugged the corridor walls for cover as two small, round, black objects rebounded off the corridors wall and fell by Morales’ still form.
“Grenade!” screamed Alec as he fell to the deck. The world around him rocked and his suit filters blackened as the first wave of superheated plasma passed over him. Alec sensed rather than felt being violently beaten onto the deck. The beating seemed to last forever. Alec prayed for his suit to maintain its integrity and spare his life.
The detached, rational part of Alec’s mind knew that only a few seconds had passed, not a lifetime, but a few seconds in combat was the difference between living and dying. He knew if he was in command of the enemy soldiers he would order a follow up charge on the heels of the explosion.
Alec struggled to his knees as the first armour clad enemy soldier came around the corner. A lethal looking rifle in his hands was swinging in Alec’s direction. Alec tried to raise his own weapon but his brain was finding it difficult to coordinate. Alec realized he wasn’t going to make it and resigned himself to his fate… What the hell? Alec shook his head to clear the fog… he saw the hand of God pluck the soldier off the corridor floor, throw him high in the air before returning him as a million shredded pieces. Something tapped Alec’s shoulder, he turned towards it. All external sound practically muted by the ringing in his ears, Alec concentrated on the moving lips he saw, and the muffled noises coming from them
“Sir! Can you hear me? Sir! Are you all right?” Alec strained to hear the marine.
“Captain” Alec struggled to get the word out as he re-orientated himself.
Muqimi repeated “Sir! Are you Okay?”
Alec shook his head to clear it as his suit systems began injecting pain numbing medication, enough to keep him mobile. He nodded in assent and Muqimi helped him to his feet, urgently grabbing at his arm and pulling with great strength while maintaining possession of his own weapon. Now on his unsteady feet Alec looked around him and snorted at his own stupidity, it hadn’t been the hand of God to the rescue; it was his reinforcements.
He sobered immediately on the realization that Team Four had ceased to exist. Twelve fellow marines gone in an instant. The survivors had sustained severe injuries.
“Muqimi, it must have been the plasma grenades,” Alec gestured towards the destruction. “Semple came up against them in the engineering spaces,” Muqimi nodded his understanding, “around that corner are the enemy that have just wiped out your fellow marines I want them to understand that killing a marine is a bad idea.” Alec was almost running on a full tank of gas now, “Do you understand me?”
Muqimi, a marine for the guts of fifteen years, understood his commander perfectly. “Message received and understood Sir!” He switched to his team channel. “Marines covering fire on my command. Breaching charges forward. Standby. Standby. Fire!”
The wrath of God rained fire that engulfed the enemy position as Team Fourteen poured plasma fire onto the killers of their fellow marines. Under this cover two breaching charges were launched, their magnetic hooks held them fast against the enemy barricade. A heart beat later their shaped charge heads exploded, reverberating throughout the ship. The barricade and its defenders ceased to exist. The marines charged through the cloud of debris. A still shaky Alec with them. No quarter was asked for nor given. The marines cleared the position leaving only death and destruction in their wake.
Before them lay the bulkhead leading to the computer core. As Alec approached the bulkhead he felt, just for a moment, an unusual tingling. He checked his suit readouts, he hadn’t imagined it. Then through the deck plates beneath his feet he felt a deep rumble. “Suit, analysis!”
A male un-intoned, synthesized voice replied, “Systems show a 3 hertz ultra-low frequency signal. Duration two seconds. Generated from indeterminate source located seven meters beyond the bulkhead. One second later there was a thermal baric explosion. There is no electrical activity from that section, further I detect the only life signs aboard this vessel are those belonging to Terran Defence Force personnel.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
First Contact
Office of the President of the Terran Republic - Geneva - Earth
Rebecca sat alone in her office as she contemplated the events of the past couple of weeks. Since the battle in 31 Aquilae, the press had been full of praise for the members of BatFor One, especially one Capt. Engel, who was swiftly becoming regarded as some form of hero for his actions in stopping the missiles that would have wrought so much destruction on the defenceless planet Garunda. There was even a suggestion that he should be awarded the Terran Medal of Honour, one which if put forward officially Rebecca would only be too happy to agree to.
A flash of lighting made Rebecca look out the windows of her office, and a wry smile crossed her lips as she regarded the gathering storm clouds as they blew over the mountains. The first rain spoiled the mirror-perfect surface of Lake Geneva.
A soft knock on the door drew her attention back into the room as the door opened and Secretary Helset and Gen. Joyce entered the room. Rebecca came around her desk to greet them.
“Gentlemen. Glad you could make it.” Rebecca shook both men’s hands warmly as she indicated for them to take a seat around her private briefing table. “I’m eager to hear what progress the team from Research and Development are making on the captured enemy ship.”
“Madam President, with your permission…” began Joyce. Rebecca nodded her ascent and Joyce inserted a secure chip into the Holo Cube concealed in the table. It sprang to life on command and displayed the interior of a ship, similar to that of a human ship but undoubtedly alien.
“Madam President, as you know, following the arrival of extra Marine elements, Admiral Radford began a boarding operation of the last surviving Buzzard. During the operation, marine casualties were high. They were restricted in the weaponry they could employ on board without destroying the very thing they had come to capture and the crew of the ship fought tooth and nail for every meter of the ship.” Joyce’s voice faltered as he continued, “By the time the marines secured the ship, they had sustained eighty-four killed in action and 142 seriously wounded.”
Rebecca shook her head slowly. “Any update on enemy casualties?”
Joyce paused and composed himself. “No living crew members have been located. It appears those who weren’t killed fighting the marines committed suicide when it became obvious that they were about to be captured.”
Rebecca forced down a shiver. She had hoped that with the fight for the ship over, the search teams would find some of the crew alive. All of t
hem dead? Some at their own hand? What sort of people are they? “Excuse me, General. Please continue.”
“Colonel Murray’s decision to seize the engine room and the missile magazines first undoubtedly saved lives. His marines found the crew in the missile magazines attempting to detonate the warheads and the engine room crew trying the same thing with the engines. If either group had succeeded, it would have destroyed the ship and killed our boarding party.”
“Colonel Murray is to be commended, General.” A furrow appeared on Rebecca’s brow. “Murray. The name seems familiar.”
Helset leaned forward. “Colonel Murray was promoted following the operation in 70 Ophiuchi where he commanded the marines who carried out the reconnaissance of ‘The Others’ base there, Madam President.”
“A well-deserved promotion then, Olaf,” commented the President. “Please go on, General.”
Joyce manipulated the Holo Cube controls and a schematic of the Buzzard appeared in the air above the table, a forward section highlighted. “The team from R&D have identified this as the source of the weapons fire that managed to destroy the TDF Lagos Bay. Initial analysis by the team leader states that the weapon is a large x-ray laser similar to those ‘‘The Others’ had deployed on their missiles used against the destroyer screen.”
Rebecca held up a hand to stop the General. “Didn’t the initial brief state that those lasers had been powered by a nuclear detonation? Surely, General, ‘The Others’ don’t detonate a nuclear device on board their own ships every time they fire that thing?”