by John Walker
***
Hoffner took cover behind a counter for a restaurant on the station promenade. Pirates fired back at them, blasting away without any trigger discipline. They emptied their magazines, wasting dozens of rounds which hammered the walls and buried themselves in the floors. The only thing the criminals got right was warning one another that they were reloading.
The marines dug into good locations throughout different retail outlets, moving into position to finish the conflict quickly. They didn’t have an accurate count of the current opposing force but Hoffner estimated less than twenty. His twelve men seemed more than capable of taking down these poorly armed thugs.
Men began reporting in, letting Hoffner know they were in position. They created a wide field of fire, spreading out so they could leverage cover through the entire hallway. Four marines watched their flanks, holding overwatch positions for anyone who tried to come up from behind. Hoffner brought up his HUD and looked at the small cameras on his men’s helmets, preparing to give the order.
Each man waited for the moment, poised for action. He listened for the criminals, waiting for one to shout out that he needed to reload. A shrill voice broke, echoing off the wall. That guy would be in cover but his buddies wouldn’t be. That was his moment. Hoffner made a two count then called out.
“All units, open fire! Open fire, take them down!”
The marines rose and took precise shots, small three round bursts at the various targets. Hoffner leaned out and took aim himself, shooting into the crowds. Pirates cried out in pain, their wild fire doing little to provide them any defense. They must’ve killed a good eight men in the first pass before they dropped back into cover and started a repositioning maneuver.
“I took a hit,” one of the marines reported. “Shot to the shoulder. Armor caught the round. Bruising only.”
“If it flares up, let us know,” Hoffner said. “Otherwise, let’s keep up the heat. Don’t let these guys get an inch. Call out your drops.”
“I’ve got three confirmed kills,” someone said. Another announced two more and still another couple got one each. When Hoffner tallied up the results, he counted nine total. Still quite a few men out there.
Hoffner turned to their local contact, Ander. “Do you know anything about this area that can help us flank these guys? We need to stop playing around.”
“Many of these buildings have loading areas,” Ander replied. He crouched low, holding his confiscated rifle close to his chest. “They could be used to get around quicker.”
“Okay, that makes sense.” Hoffner turned his attention back to the battlefield. “I need a volunteer to join me at my position. We’re going to flush the game.”
“I’m on my way,” the man who replied was Camdon, one of his veterans. He didn’t join them on the research facility machine but he’d run more missions than most any other soldier on the Behemoth. “Give me a sec.”
Hoffner ignored the sounds of gunfire, both the enemy and his men returning it. The marines would allow the pirates to think they had them locked down, unable to move. A little false sense of security would go a long way toward victory. When the marines finally attacked, the shock of it would work to their advantage.
Camdon arrived and took cover across from them behind a downed table. He glanced around the corner and waited for orders. Hoffner gestured to a nearby grocery shop. “That building have the access we need?”
“Yes, sir,” Ander replied. “Do you want me to come with you?”
“Negative, stay with these guys. You don’t have the armor to risk it.” Hoffner patted him on the shoulder. “Thank you for your help so far. We’ll be back shortly.”
“We going?” Camdon asked.
“Yes, you grumpy bastard. Follow me.”
Hoffner dashed out from his cover and moved to the next low table. No one got a chance to take a shot at him before he was out of sight. Camdon took up his rear and they moved into the store, past displays of quick food and nicknacks. The backdoor loomed ahead, a sliding metal affair. A green light on the panel indicated it was unlocked and he tapped the button to open it open.
The second it slid aside, the two marines moved into the loading area, taking a hard left in the direction of their opponents. “We’re nearly in position,” Hoffner announced. “Standby.”
Gunfire continued to echo throughout the area though it was muffled from their position. Hoffner easily differentiated his own men’s attacks from those of the pirates. Those fully automatic weapons made a distinct tapping sound when they went off where the marine weapons carried a loud and intimidating explosion with each shot.
There was a finality to when they pulled the trigger and each round sounded loud for the intimidation value. Suppressing them was a bit of a challenge and it tended to require a change in ammunition. Few of the Behemoth’s needs involved stealth, especially something like what they were doing on the station and elsewhere, on the Alliance ship.
Hoffner and Camdon reached the end of the loading area and approached a door leading to one of the shops. Camdon hit the panel to open it up and once again, the gunfire blared loud around them, no longer suppressed by the metal walls. They glanced through and found themselves in the perfect flanking position.
Two of the pirates were within view and they didn’t even have to exit the alley.
“We’re in position,” Hoffner announced. “Cease fire and take cover until we give the signal.”
A moment later, the marine gunfire ceased. Camdon and Hoffner darted into the room, took cover behind a counter and opened fire. Their rounds riddled the first two men they saw while the others moved. This put them in the open for the other marines. Hoffner motioned for Camdon to drop and they went low.
“Open fire, now!” Hoffner shouted. His men complied, tearing through the enemy forces in seconds. A couple of stragglers started running for it but they didn’t make it to the door at the end of the promenade before being taken down. “Cease fire!”
“Want me to start a sweep and clear?” Camdon asked.
“Yeah, grab Aleister. He’s good for that.” Hoffner checked his com. “Alright, guys. We need access to the control center right away. We’ve got a bomb to stop so get moving! Ander, you’re with us. We’re going to need your help access the station’s systems. Everyone’s got a job people! Move out!”
***
The hangar bay of the Alliance cruiser was abandoned. A couple of alliance fighters sat in various stages of disrepair but no personnel moved about and all the pirate vessels had departed. The marine drop ship put down near the exit and the back ramp dropped down, clanging on the metal deck.
Lieutenant Sander Vincent had been chomping at the bit to command his own mission but this wasn’t what he had in mind. Taking a cruiser back from a bunch of pirates with a crazy deadline where you’ll die if you mess up seemed a touch excessive. Of course, the parameters changed after his force was committed to the task.
Now to make it happen.
He was the first one off the ship and led his team to the door. Everything had to go perfect or they’d all die. This meant copious help from the Behemoth bridge crew, another part of the assignment he didn’t expect. He always assumed he’d work through Lieutenant Colonel Dupont but this time, he needed the help of the Kielan, Clea An’Tufal.
The other team members stacked up on the door, their weapons at the ready. Sander examined the panel and called back to the ship. “We’re in position at the hangar door. Can we get some help opening it up?”
“On my mark,” Clea said. “Three…two…one…open.”
The door parted in the middle, receding into the walls and his men piled in to clear the hallway. Someone shouted clear and Sander followed them, checking his HUD for the direction they needed to go. The first stop was engineering where they’d prevent the overload from destroying the entire ship. Afterward, they’d free whatever crew members they could find and take back the vessel.
Some of the pirates may still be on
board though why, he couldn’t imagine. What did they hope to gain by dying there? Denying the prize to the Alliance didn’t make much sense. If the criminals just left, they’d live and wouldn’t have to sacrifice themselves. Regardless, the more zealous of the people could be anywhere but the marines didn’t have the luxury of caution.
“Let’s get moving.” Sander took point, though in the back of his mind, he knew he shouldn’t be. His goal was to show the men he didn’t expect anything from them he wouldn’t do himself and it had served him well throughout several other missions. Of course, he wasn’t the leader then…just an individual contributor.
His team fell in behind him and they hustled down the hallway, practically sprinting. “Contact!” One of the men yelled and gunfire erupted behind them. Sander spun, pressed against the wall and assessed the situation. Two marines opened up, their weapons echoing off the metal ceiling and resounding deep into the ship.
Two people took pot shots at them from an open door where they could pop in and out with perfect cover. Sander’s team was out in the open for the most part so they didn’t have a lot of option but to shoot back. He pulled a frag grenade and moved to get a better angle. One of the criminals popped out to take another shot.
The weapon fired and slapped one of the marines in the leg, a superficial hit considering the armor but the man probably wouldn’t be able to run for a while. Sander cooked the grenade and tossed it so it bounced once just in front of the door and sailed past their two attackers. Two people freaked out inside and one made it into the hallway before the explosion annihilated his buddy.
“Freeze!” Sander aimed his weapon at the guy but one of his men reflex fired and took half the pirate’s head off. Sander turned to look at the guy who shrugged.
“Sorry, LT,” he said. “You saw how twitchy he was.”
“Let’s keep our heads cool, gentlemen,” Sander announced. “Move out. The clock’s ticking.”
“An accurate statement,” Clea’s voice piped into his head speakers. “We’re seeing less than five minutes, Lieutenant. I need time to walk you through reversing this so please do hurry.”
What do you think we’re doing, enjoying the scenery? Sander sighed before replying. “Understood.”
They didn’t encounter more resistance before reaching the engineering section but it did take them another full minute. As they entered the room, Sander’s team cleared the room and he moved over to the primary control console. The entire space looked vastly more high tech than anything on the Behemoth though they were roughly the same in terms of functionality.
Maybe it’s the alien aesthetic that gives me that impression.
“I’m in position,” Sander said. “Ready to do…whatever you need me to do.”
People started shouting clear in various corners and two of his team took up position at the door. Sander bounced on the balls of his feet, adrenaline coursing through his veins. This was intense. They had three minutes before this thing went up. The engines seemed quiet, which was wrong in his opinion. They should be whining at least or building up steam with some kind of grinding sound.
“Alright, I cannot patch into that terminal. It’s isolated for a reason. A long time ago—”
“With all due respect,” Sander interrupted, “not sure we have time for that.”
“Right! So tap the red icon on the left. That’ll bring up engine control. I want you to throttle down on the power output. Right now, it seems to be around three hundred percent. You should drop it to ten.”
“Why not off?”
“Because we might not be able to reignite the core if you do and these folks need to get that ship home.” Clea paused. “I’d hurry. It’s picking up the pace. I estimate we have less than two minutes.”
Shit! Sander tapped the button and a load screen appeared. Are you kidding me!? If I die because this thing was poorly optimized…
“Have you done it?” Clea asked. “I’m not seeing any change.”
“It’s freakin’ loading!” Sander grumbled. “And it doesn’t have a timer…just a percentage. Fifty…sixty…seventy-five…”
“When that finishes, the dial you’re looking for is just off the center of the screen to your left. You’ll bring it down but again, do not put it to zero. Confirm.”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re confirmed.”
“Contact!” Sander looked over his shoulder to see the door guards firing their weapons.
“How many?” Sander shouted.
“Four!” Davison, the man on the right called back as he fired his gun. “Sorry, three now.”
“Keep them at bay!” Sander turned back to the panel. It read ninety-percent. “We’re almost there!”
Private Grayson cried out and Sander risked another glance. The young man took a shot to the shoulder and it tossed him to the ground. Another marine took his place as yet a different one pulled Grayson aside to check his wound. The progress bar hit one-hundred percent…stalled…and the screen changed.
“Reducing power now!” Sander reported, sliding it down until he reached ten-percent. “Do what you have to do!”
“You have one more task,” Clea’s voice remained calm and controlled. Easy for her to be relaxed on the bridge! “I need you to tap in the following access code. Hit the icon on the lower right for a pad.”
“Um…these aren’t in English!”
“That’s okay, I’m going to tell you what to hit by location. Ready?”
“Just go!”
“Upper Right-Lower Left-Middle-Middle-Upper Left-Lower Left.”
Sander repeated it back to her despite every nerve ending in his body screaming at him to just do it. She confirmed him when he finished and he slapped in the code. Gunfire behind him made him wince but he focused, willing himself to not turn around. Part of him wanted to ask for a count on the time but he knew he didn’t want to know.
“Final code button hit!” Sander said. “What now?”
“Now, I have control of that terminal,” Clea replied. “And you’re done. Protect the console while I lock down the entire ship to my control only. In a few minutes, you can start releasing any prisoners you might find. Congratulations, Lieutenant. You’ve successfully saved the Alliance ship.”
Thank God for that! Sander turned to his men to assess the situation. “How’re we doing? Did you get them?”
“Yes, sir.” Davison answered. “Ready for mop up.”
“Let’s make it happen.” Sander tried to sound like his heart wasn’t racing in his chest or that adrenaline had nearly made him shake. His command authority remained strong as he stepped out of the room, leading the way to the next objective. He finally felt like he had what it took to be a leader after all.
Chapter 8
Meagan looked at her scanners and had to do a double take. More fighters were incoming, this time from somewhere near the mining facility. They must’ve been on the actual pirate ship. Readings indicated they were quite a bit better than the ones which tried to prevent the drop ship from docking on the cruiser.
“Giant Control, are you picking this up?”
“Affirmative,” Revente’s voice came through. “Those are modified alliance fighters. Trying to get a read on what’s different.”
Meagan performed her own quick scan. The ships were still too far out to engage but they closed rapidly. The computer estimated they’d be in firing distance within three minutes. A few moments passed and the scan showed a holographic image of the incoming vessels. They looked much like the normal alliance fighters only these were heavily armored in the front.
To the point of being excessive. “Why would they have all that reinforced armor?”
Giant Control spoke up, “intelligence suggests that’s for ramming tactics. They can do so without compromising their structural integrity. Looks like you’ve got five incoming.”
“To my four. Any chance for some backup?”
“Probably not before they arrive,” Giant Control said. “But we’ll send the
m in.”
“Can someone get on the cannons and help us out on the cruiser at least? The ramming thing really bothers me.”
“I’ll see what we can do. Stay alive out there. You’re doing great so far.”
“That’s not as comforting as you might think.”
“Hey, I’m an optimist. I’ll get back to you soon.”
Meagan patched in to the rest of her wing. “You guys see these incoming?”
“Got them on scan,” Mick said. “They’re better equipped than the last ones.”
“But if their pilots are just as bad, it won’t matter,” Shelly said. “Let’s just take care of them so we can go home.”
“Don’t get too cocky,” Meagan warned. “They’re setup to ram.”
“That’s just a crappy tactic,” David said. “But you know what, screw them. We’ve got this.”
The computer warned that the ships were nearly in firing distance. Twenty seconds in fact. Meagan ordered her wing to pair off and get ready for a fight. The other ships let loose a torrent of pulse blasts and Panther wing veered off in two separate directions. Meagan saw flashes out of the corner of her eye, more fire from one of the enemies.
“They are all over me here,” David shouted. “Wow, they’re pretty good too. Let’s see if he knows this maneuver.”
Meagan altered course, preparing to help David out with some rear support. She got him on visual just as he pulled up then suddenly hit his side thrusters. It was a gutsy move, one that his opponent didn’t see coming. The pirate flew right past and David opened up, tearing into the engines and ultimately destroying the fighter.
“Scratch one!” David called out. Meagan opened her mouth to speak and gasped. The pirate may not have meant to sacrifice himself but he gave one of his companions a path, a chance to attack directly after a momentary victory. The ship flew from David’s bottom, on a direct collision course.