Ep.#8 - Celestia: CV-02

by Ryk Brown

  A dozen or more gunshots rang out. Yanni screamed, his eyes still closed as he turned away from the shooters. As the echo from the shots died, he heard boots running toward him.

  “GET DOWN!” someone ordered.

  Yanni opened his eyes and saw four security guards running at him carrying automatic weapons. He looked down and witnessed Dolph and his partner lying crumpled, face down on the floor in unnatural positions, pools of blood growing ever wider beneath their unmoving bodies. There were gaping wounds in both their backs.

  “Yanni! Yanni! Can you hear me!” his supervisor called over the comm-set. “We’re being attacked! Tell your people to stay inside!”

  Yanni never heard his supervisor’s cries.

  “I SAID GET DOWN!” one of the guards repeated as he passed by Yanni, headed for the cargo door.

  Yanni dropped to his knees behind the cart once more as the guards took positions on either side of the cargo door and opened fire on the attackers outside who were advancing from the loading dock. Automatic weapons fire rang out incessantly as the guards defended the data cores.

  One of the guards was suddenly thrown backward toward Yanni from his firing position by the door. The man stumbled and fell onto Yanni, knocking him onto the dead Ark technicians who had been working for the Jung.

  Yanni struggled to get upright, the wounded guard practically lying in his lap. Blood gushed from a wound in the guard’s side. Yanni tried to stem the flow of blood with his free hand, but it just kept coming.

  “Oh, God. Oh, God,” he repeated. He looked at the wounded man’s face. His eyes were cold and lifeless. Yanni felt for a pulse at the man’s neck and found none. He moaned and pushed the guard over to the side and off of him. Yanni’s hands were covered with blood.

  Another guard fell to the energy weapons fire from the attackers.

  “Pick up a gun and fight!” one of the two remaining guards yelled.

  Yanni looked at the dead guard next to him, his weapon still slung over his shoulder. Yanni pulled the weapon away from the man, sliding the strap under his arm. He stared at the weapon, unsure of what to do with it. He looked at one of the other guards as he ejected his empty magazine, replaced it with one from his belt, pulled back on the bolt, and continued firing. Yanni looked at the weapon again, finding the button to eject the magazine. He pushed it, and the long metal rectangle dropped out of the gun. Yanni pulled a fresh magazine from the dead guard’s belt and pushed into the weapon, pulling back the bolt just as he had seen the other guard do.

  Yanni moved to the doorway just as another guard fell from enemy fire. Hiding behind the door frame, he pointed his weapon out the door, closed his eyes, and held down the trigger. The weapon began spitting shell casings in the air as rounds spewed angrily out its barrel. The weapon reverberated in his hands, shaking his arms and shoulders in the process and swinging upward as it fired. The noise was deafening, far worse than he had expected. Yanni felt like he was firing a cannon that shot a hundred rounds per second. Even the last surviving guard on the other side of the cargo door seemed surprised by the noise. In five seconds, his weapon stopped firing, having spent all of its ammunition.

  There was a strange quiet. Yanni realized that the attackers had stopped firing. He looked across at the guard on the other side of the cargo door. The guard also looked surprised, shrugging his shoulders. They both peered cautiously around the door frame at the now poorly lit loading dock outside. The area lot was littered with the bodies of their attackers, possibly as many as eight of them, lying dead in pools of their own blood. The black, unmarked shuttle was also gone. Yanni couldn’t believe what he was seeing. In the distance, he spotted the black shuttle speeding away, low over the dark countryside along the edge of the mountains.

  The other guard already stood in the open, gazing at the corpses of their attackers in disbelief. “No way.” The guard crouched down in fear as the loading dock was suddenly flooded with light once again. Another shuttle slid into view from over his shoulder, its engines screeching as it came in to land on top of the dead attackers. This shuttle, however, had Earth Defense Force markings on her side.

  Yanni also came out as two fighters streaked low overhead in pursuit of the fleeing shuttle. A dozen armed EDF troops dropped out of the sides of the shuttle, just aft of her door guns, as it touched down. They spread out in all directions as they moved to secure the area from further attack.

  Four men approached confidently. They were dressed in heavy combat armor and carried assault weapons over their shoulders.

  “Lieutenant O’Conner, EDF Marines!” one of the men introduced himself as he approached Yanni and the surviving Ark guard. “Which of you is Yanni?”

  Yanni reluctantly pointed to himself, inadvertently allowing his weapon to point at the lieutenant in the process.

  The lieutenant leaned to one side to avoid getting shot as he reached for Yanni’s weapon, grabbing it just over the magazine. “I take it combat isn’t your normal line of work.”

  “No, sir,” Yanni muttered, still in shock from the gun battle.

  “I’ve been told you’re in charge of these cores. Is that true?”

  “Uh, yes, sir,” Yanni answered.

  “Let’s get them loaded then, shall we?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You might want to answer your comm-set,” the lieutenant added. “I think someone is trying to call you.”

  Yanni reached for his comm-set which had been knocked down around his neck during the preceding events, and pulled it up to his ear. “Yes, Reto. I’m here,” Yanni answered over the comm-set.

  “Yanni, thank God. Are you all right?”

  “Yes, I think so,” Yanni answered as he looked himself over.

  “Is everything okay down there? Are the cores okay?”

  Yanni looked over the first cart of cases, the one that had been in the line of fire. There were several nicks from flying debris and a lot of external scorching from the energy weapons fire, but he saw no external signs of damage. “They seem to be fine, sir.”

  “Good work, Yanni. Good work. You stay with them, Yanni. Do not let those cores out of your sight!”

  “No, sir, I won’t,” Yanni promised.

  “Good luck, my boy.”

  “Uh, thank you, sir.” Yanni looked down the hallway as several more workers came charging out to help load the cases onto the waiting EDF shuttle. Yanni cringed at the sound of a distant explosion. He turned to see a bright fireball rising up into the night sky from a distant crash site as the two EDF fighters pulled up and turned in opposite directions, having just shot down the fleeing, black shuttle.

  “Make a hole,” someone yelled, causing Yanni to step aside.

  A man wearing a military flight suit, safety harness, and flight helmet approached Yanni.

  “Are these the data cores?” the man in the flight helmet asked.

  “Yes, sir,” Yanni answered. “Where are you taking them?”

  “Classified,” the crew chief answered. “Is this all of them?”

  “No, there are seven more carts in the hallway,” Yanni told him, pointing inside.

  “Keep them coming,” the crew chief told Yanni. “We need to get them loaded and get out of here, ASAP. There could be more Jung forces in the area.” The crew chief motioned to two of his crewmen, who then came up behind him to start loading the cases from the first cart. The two crewmen stepped up and grabbed the first case off the cart, one man on each end, and lifted it up with a jerk. The case beeped loudly, causing the crewmen to pause, looks of concern on their faces.

  “Why is it beeping?” the crew chief asked Yanni.

  “You have to handle them more gently,” Yanni told him.

  “I thought they were packed in protective cases,” the crew chief asked.

 
“They are,” Yanni insisted. “That’s why it’s beeping. Those are thousand year-old data cores. We don’t know how abrupt handling might affect them.”

  “Carefully,” the crew chief warned his men.

  “Just move them smoothly, no jarring or shaking,” Yanni added.

  “What else do we need to be worried about?” the crew chief asked.

  “They should not be exposed to extreme temperatures, high humidity, sudden shock, electrical charges, electromagnetic fields…”

  “What the hell are the cases for?” the crew chief wondered. “Don’t they protect them from any of that?”

  “Like I said, those are thousand year-old data storage devices. If you’re not careful with them, the data you’re protecting could be lost forever.”

  “Do you know how to care for them?” the crew chief asked.

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Then climb aboard!” the crew chief ordered.

  “What?”

  “You’re coming with us, pal.”

  “Me? But I’m just the night Core Supervisor…” Yanni suddenly remembered his supervisor’s words. I need you to make sure the cores are properly handled, Yanni. You must stay with them wherever they go. The words echoed in his head over and over. He climbed aboard the shuttle as the two crewmen began loading the rest of the cases. He helped the men inside the shuttle as they stacked the cases carefully, securing them as they were loaded. Within minutes, all sixty-four cases were neatly arranged on the floor of the shuttle, stored on special loading pallets connected to the deck. Without ceremony, the two crewmen outside and the crew chief climbed back aboard and closed the hatch.

  One of the other technicians pushed Yanni down into his seat. “Buckle up!”

  Yanni looked around, taking note of the shoulder harnesses the other technicians were pulling from the walls of the shuttle to wrap around their torsos. He found his own harness, pulling it around either side of him and securing it in front of him as the shuttle’s engines spun back up to full power. As he tightened his harness, the shuttle leapt off the ground and began to accelerate slowly as it climbed. Yanni looked at the stacks of cases in the middle of the shuttle’s cargo deck. The indicator lights on the cases were all green, indicating that there were no conditions currently threatening the integrity of the cores.

  Yanni glanced out the window of the shuttle at the Swiss Alps as they passed below him, growing smaller and smaller as they continued to climb. “Where are we going?” Yanni asked the technician sitting next to him.

  The technician looked Yanni over, noticing the copious amounts of blood on both his clothing and his hands. He then looked at his crew chief. “Chief?”

  “What the hell?” the crew chief said. “He’s going to know soon enough.”

  Yanni looked at the man again.

  “OAP,” the technician told Yanni.

  “What? You mean in orbit?” Yanni asked, his eyes wide.

  “Uh, yeah, that’s what the ‘O’ stands for.”

  Yanni swallowed hard. He had never left Switzerland. He had never even flown in a plane before. Now he was going into space along with all of humanity’s pre-plague knowledge.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “Heat exchanger three is offline,” the Reliant’s damage control officer reported over the comms. “We’ve also got hull breaches in compartments one forty-seven through one fifty-three. Engineering reports main thrust port four is damaged, as well as the aft starboard maneuvering pod. If we take much more damage aft, we may have a hard time maneuvering when the time comes to turn and take them head-to-head again.”

  “Understood,” Captain Yahi answered as the bridge of the Reliant continued to shake from the constant pounding of the enemy rail gun fire. “Lieutenant Calloway, how long until the Volkov reaches attack range?”

  “Thirty minutes, sir,” the lieutenant answered.

  “Incoming message,” Ensign Donabee reported. “It’s from Fleet Command, sir, via laser comm. They’re ordering us to draw the Jung closer to Earth, within range of the LRGA.”

  “Not going to be a problem, I suspect,” the captain mumbled. “Acknowledge the order.”

  “Sir, won’t they come into the LRGA’s field of fire regardless?” Lieutenant Calloway wondered.

  “From this angle, the moon is on the far side of the Earth,” Captain Yahi explained. “On their current trajectory, they could still change course and approach the Earth from the opposite side just before they came into range. Fleet just wants us to keep them on their current heading to ensure they’ll pass on the same side as those guns.” The captain turned to his helmsman. “Helm, cut the mains and coast.”

  “Mains to zero thrust, aye,” Ensign Stewart answered.

  “If we stop accelerating, and they continue their burn, they’ll close the gap and surround us,” Lieutenant Calloway warned.

  “Can’t be helped. We need to protect our main drive if we’re going to get out of the way of those guns at the last moment,” the captain explained. “Mister Stewart, pitch us up ninety degrees so all our guns can get clear firing lines.”

  “Pitching up ninety, aye.”

  The captain watched the main view screen as the stars began to slide from top to bottom as the Reliant pitched her nose upward in relation to her flight path. He could feel the concussion of numerous rail gun rounds as they struck the Reliant’s hull. Coming closer and closer, they made their way from the aft end of the ship to her topside as the massive ship pitched upward.

  “Combat, Captain. Concentrate our rail guns on each ship’s forward guns. If we can take them out, they’ll be forced to coast so they can rotate and bring more guns into play. That might keep them from gaining on us for a while.”

  “Aye, sir,” the commander answered over the comm-set. “Targeting their forward guns.”

  “Tactical, how long until we’re in range of the Lunar Rail Gun Array?” the captain asked.

  “Ten minutes, sir.”

  “Damage control, Captain,” the captain called over the comm-set.

  “Damage control. Go ahead, sir,” the damage control officer responded.

  “Can we take ten more minutes of this?”

  “At our current angle, doubtful. Too many critical systems exposed. Even if we do, we probably won’t have any working guns left by then. However, since they won’t have an angle on our propulsion systems, we should be able to make a run for it when the time comes.”

  “Understood,” Captain Yahi answered. “Keep us together as long as you can.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “It’s working, sir!” Lieutenant Legasse reported from the sensor station. “Three of the Jung ships have stopped accelerating and are pitching over to bring more guns on us.”

  “Three of them?” the captain asked.

  The lieutenant watched his display for several more seconds before answering. “Yes, sir, only three of them. Targets one and six are still accelerating. In fact, they’re accelerating faster than before.”

  “Damn,” Captain Yahi cursed under his breath. “Combat, Captain. Targets one and six are accelerating. They’re going to try to attack us from either side. When they do, you’ll need to disengage the other three contacts at least temporarily and concentrate our fire on those two targets. Keep the other three busy with missiles if you have to, but try to take out as many gun emplacements as possible on targets one and six as they come alongside.”

  “Yes, sir,” Commander Denker answered over the comm-set. “Sir, recommend we pitch over another ninety, so we’re flying backwards. That will allow us to bring more rail guns to bear on targets one and six as they pass. It will also make us a smaller target for the other three cruisers.”

  “What about our missiles?”

  “Our forward missile batteries can
zero in on the trailing targets. We’ll let the other two get closer, then go to full burn and decelerate just as we get into range of the LRGA. That will bring them in close enough to sneak some missiles past their point-defenses. We might even get lucky with a few nukes at that range.”

  “Good idea, Commander,” Captain Yahi agreed. “Helm, bring our bow onto targets two, four, and five.”

  “Aye, captain, pitching and rolling,” Ensign Stewart answered.

  Captain Yahi again felt the concussion of enemy rail gun fire shift, walking farther forward as the Reliant rotated and rolled. Within a minute, the UES Reliant was flying backwards, her forward guns constantly firing at the Jung cruisers chasing her toward Earth. The captain could hear the chatter of his bridge staff as they communicated with rest of the ship. He could hear the chatter of damage control parties and firefighting teams as they reported to the damage control officer about their struggles to keep the ship alive and fighting, even as the enemy ships tried to destroy them. It occurred to him that he had no idea how many of his crew had been injured thus far. He knew they had lost twenty-eight pilots, but he had obtained no casualty count for the ship itself. He eased his mind, if only temporarily, with the thought that, because his chief in damage control had not felt it necessary to report, it had not yet risen to high numbers, at least not enough that it might impact the ship’s overall combat readiness.

  “Targets one and six will come alongside in three minutes,” Lieutenant Legasse reported. “Estimate they’ll have firing solutions in one minute.”

  “Time to LRGA range?” Captain Yahi asked his tactical officer.

  “Seven minutes, sir,” Lieutenant Calloway answered.

  “Combat, Captain,” Captain Yahi called over the comm-set.

  “Go ahead, sir,” Commander Denker answered.

  “As soon as our side guns get a firing solution on targets one and six, open fire. Target their point-defense systems.”