From the Ashes

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From the Ashes Page 4

by Mark Tufo


  “Tell the fighters to leave enough room for our cannons,” Iserwan stated. “Weapons?”

  “On target, armed and awaiting your command, sir.”

  “At two seconds to arrival, launch everything,” Iserwan stated calmly.

  “Will that be enough?” I asked Dee.

  He shook his massive head. “It will certainly cause damage but not enough. All intelligent species have the capability to detect imminent arrival.”

  “Is that a slight?” I asked, interrupting him.

  “One of the greatest minds of your world said that human stupidity is infinite.”

  “Who the hell said that?”

  “Albert Einstein, Michael. How is it that I know more about your species than you?”

  “It’s the sexual thoughts, Dee. It’s difficult to concentrate on anything else when you see a perfect female ass.”

  “You are the one that will lead us to salvation? Perhaps I should have remained a slave.”

  “Sarcasm?”

  He didn’t answer. “Back to your original question. The Progerians know that their approach can be detected and have engineered their ships to withstand nearly any initial onslaught until they can engage and return fire. The fighters will hopefully be a large enough contingent that the Battle Cruiser will not be able to return all fire on us.”

  “We’re going to get hit?”

  “Without a doubt.”

  “What if more than one Battle Cruiser comes through the arrival?”

  “You have prayed, there is naught more we can do.”

  “Have I ever told you how much fun you are?”

  “Sarcasm?”

  I decided not to answer him. Those next few minutes seemed to take forever; I was thinking about Tracy and Travis mostly. If I could do something up here that would ensure their safety I would die happy. Not sure what that was going to be, not, at least, until Iserwan looked over at Dee-ster and me.

  “Drababan and Michael, could you please go to the armory? I will send troops to you, please arm them all.”

  I was about to ask him why when I felt my feet vibrate. We had just fired everything in our arsenal. Blue, red and some sort of purplish streak arced across the vast openness of space. For a long second I thought the rays would travel infinitum, possibly slamming into some poor farmer’s land on a planet four hundred thousand light years from here. It would be in all the newspapers—the strange lights in the sky—and now he’d have a bunch of dead alien cows and sheep all fried up. Reporters would come from all over to look at the huge gaping holes in his south fields.

  Suddenly, it was there. A ship, just like those old television shows with the horrible special effects. You know the ones, one frame there is no evil man, in the next he appears and everyone in the shot is trying to maintain the pose they had when they ‘cut’ him in. It’s generally pretty cheesy. And maybe that would have been the case here but I was too scared shitless to think that. The fucking thing was massive. I guess I wasn’t expecting it to be that big. I knew the Guardian was bigger but certainly not as badass looking. Our scout ship basically looked like a giant Chevy Station Wagon compared to the Battle Cruiser, which looked more like an Apache Helicopter. It was sleek and just oozed menace.

  I only had a moment to stare at it before our barrage slammed into it.

  “There’s no way anything could survive that,” I said aloud just as klaxons blared.

  “Incoming!”

  Dee grabbed me and we headed for the armory. We had no sooner left the bridge than the ship was slammed to the side. If not for Dee’s bulk I would have smacked my head off the wall. As it was, hitting him was no great bargain.

  “How could they strike back so fast?”

  “This is all they do,” Dee said, righting me. We began to move a little quicker.

  “And you call humanity stupid?”

  He didn’t answer.

  We were rocked twice more before we got to where we were going.

  “Any personnel not directly involved in the defense of this ship please head to the armory. Colonel Michael Talbot will be your troop leader.” This came over the ship intercom.

  “Who the hell are we going to fight, Dee? I’m sure as hell not going to don a spacesuit and fight like in some crazy James Bond movie.”

  “Moonraker.”

  “You saw that?”

  “It is entertaining for me to watch what humans believe to be advanced technology.”

  “I have a hard time picturing you sitting on a couch eating potato chips and watching a movie. And I’ve been meaning to ask you, what’s with all the cats? Do you keep them around so that if you get a little hungry and want a snack you can just grab one and pop it in your mouth?”

  Dee looked aghast. I thought it comical I could elicit that response from him.

  “They are endearing little creatures and I would never harm any of them!”

  He was getting pissed. I was glad Genogerians and humans alike were showing up to get rifles. They had most likely saved me.

  “It looks like we will once again be fighting side by side on this ship, Michael,” Tantor said as he walked in, a smile on his face.

  Urlack was behind him.

  “Urlack, can you tell me what the hell is going on?” I asked.

  “The Battle Cruiser will send over landing parties in an attempt to take back this ship. It is too valuable an asset to fall into enemy hands. Failing that they will then attempt to destroy it and us.”

  “Glad I asked. Should we get down to the hangar then and await our guests’ arrival?”

  “The hangar will be the last place they come. The docking ships have the ability to latch on to any part of the outer hull. They can cut through the composite material in under a minute with troops immediately running through the resultant hole.”

  “Holy shit.” A chill went up my spine. “Tantor, any chance we can convince them to lay down their arms?”

  “Unlikely in the time we will have available. I would imagine it would give them pause when they see Genogerians shooting back at them. However, they will have Devastator troops with them and you know as well as I do they care for little, even themselves.”

  Devastator troops were genetically mutated Genogerians who were larger and somehow more deadly than the originals. I just liked to call them ‘mutes’, seemed derogatory. In my mind they were not worthy of a better name.

  “If they can strike anywhere I’d just as soon be on the bridge so I can see which way the tide is turning.” Genos and men alike parted as I headed for the door.

  “Sir?” Tantor asked.

  “Right, right, I’m in charge. I’m married with a kid, not used to giving orders or anyone actually listening to them.”

  The Genos looked at me blankly. The men looked scared as hell, my joke doing little to appease them.

  Dee, however, snorted. “It is true. I have seen his much smaller spouse completely ignore his entreaties!”

  “Okay Dee, there wasn’t much need to elaborate.”

  “Even his off-spring will at times ignore him completely.”

  “Dee!”

  Dee had not wrested any response but he seemed to be having a grand old time.

  “You and I are going to have a talk when this is over,” I said, pointing up at him.

  “What makes you think he will listen?”

  “Oh come on Tantor, you too?” I just shook my head and headed to the bridge.

  The lights flickered at irregular intervals as we were once again struck by whatever the Cruiser was shooting our way. Within a few minutes I found myself once again on the bridge with Dee. I had the rest of the troops waiting outside.

  Iserwan looked over, acknowledging our arrival. Paul was busy looking at the screen. He seemed calm enough but I could see his death grip on the console in front of him.

  “We’re ready, Iserwan,” I said. “Will we have any type of warning other than shooting sounds in corridors?”

  “You will, but not muc
h. How many soldiers do you have?”

  “Thirty.”

  He took in a sharp intake of air.

  “I take it that’s not enough?”

  “Each Breacher will have up to a hundred troops on it.”

  “Each one? How many do they send?”

  “They have ten.”

  “A thousand to thirty, we should be fine, right Dee?”

  “You are horrible at math, Michael.”

  Iserwan had been in the process of completely manning the ship. At present it was at somewhere in the neighborhood of seventy percent. That number, however, did not include troops. No longer was it an inter-galaxy explorer and plunderer so much as a planet defender; everyone on it was here mainly for that reason. I’m sure at some point they were going to put troops on it to repel a pirate boarding but they were the last on the list. It truly was essential personnel on board at the moment. Although in reality the troops would now be very much considered essential personnel. I wondered for a second if it would be possible to convince the reporters to fight. Lord knows there were enough of them.

  My gaze was glued to the screen much like Paul’s. The fighters in comparison to the Cruiser looked like gnats flying around the head of a person. And like gnats they were being swatted out of the air with impunity. The loss of so many lives was staggering; add to that the fact of so many thousands of man-hours spent creating the machines and it was truly disheartening.

  “Can’t we do something?” I whispered.

  We were doing all we could, trading punch for punch with the more heavily armed and armored vessel.

  “Their Breachers have deployed, sir.”

  I’d yet to like anything the radar operator had to say. Maybe I should punch him. I saw five ships deploy from the Cruiser; they looked to be somewhere in the size of a traditional sea battle ship and they were huge. Even they dwarfed the fighters.

  “Major Templeton, deploy Red Team Six,” Iserwan told his communications officer.

  I saw three Campaign Class ships leave the Guardian. These were comparable in size to what was heading our way. There had been a huge debate about rebuilding these planet busters, primarily because of what they were used for and the resources that would be necessary to build them. Right now I wanted to give a big wet kiss to whoever had been an advocate for them. They’d been renamed to Campaign Class but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what they were for. Cannons and gun turrets lined every available meter of their outer hulls and right now they were streaming fire. It was so thick it looked like a swath of colored death.

  The Breachers began to return fire but for the first time since this started the invaders were outgunned. Then from the rear of the Cruiser a fighter escort emerged.

  “Son of a bitch,” I think I said, although it may have been Paul.

  The invading fighters were oblivious to all around them except the Campaign ships that were now diverting some of their resources to the new threat.

  I had an idea. I turned to see if Iserwan was going to pull some of the fighters off to help. “Iserwan, you need to help those Campaign ships.” Explosions began to wash over us as they suffered heavy damage.

  “There is no help. I have nothing left.”

  “Listen, you said they want this ship back, right?”

  “Yes, that would be their initial goal, destruction if they cannot achieve it.”

  “Let them have it back.”

  I don’t know who protested first, Paul or Iserwan, but it didn’t matter; I quieted them down quick.

  “I don’t mean hand it over, just let them think that. We cannot afford to lose those Campaign ships or many more fighters either. Have the fighters pull back and attack the Breachers.”

  “If the Battle Cruiser is left unimpeded it will destroy us when they lose their breaching capability,” Iserwan stated.

  “That may be the case but they won’t lose their capability, not entirely anyway. We destroy four and let the fifth make dock. We have to let them believe that they still have a chance to win this ship back over.”

  “What will that accomplish?” Iserwan asked.

  “It buys us time,” Paul said, “and that is something in diminishing supply right now. Have the fighters engage the Breachers, Commander, and let one get though. You can handle your end, Mike?”

  “Piece of cake,” I lied.

  Even with all our fighters pulling back we lost two Campaign ships. Two Breachers burned intensely in a hell fire, with a third disintegrated into a thousand pieces, a lot of which peppered the Guardian like seasoning. The ship rang out as one of the Breachers finally leeched onto us, heavy materials grinding and clashing as the ships ‘kissed’.

  “Deck 33, section 2 G as in Golf,” the radar operator said as I looked over toward him.

  “Iserwan, you need to stop that last Breacher from docking. Dee, Tantor, let’s go.” We were in full on sprint mode and I was tempted to ask Dee for a ride. If I stumbled now I was going to end up as a stain on the bottom of a Genogerian foot.

  The ship rang like a bell again. The last Breacher had made a landing. “Fuck,” I muttered. This was immediately followed by explosions.

  “That’s us,” Dee said, turning to see how far behind I was falling. “Our fighters are shooting at the Breacher before it can cut through the hull.

  “That sounds safe.”

  “I can assure you it is not. If the Breacher makes even a slight hole in the hull and is then blown apart, anyone or anything caught near the breach will be sucked through the hole. It is not a pleasant way to die.”

  “Is there such a thing as a pleasant way to die?” I asked.

  “Some are better than others.” With that he turned and redoubled his efforts.

  It couldn’t have taken us more than two minutes to get to where the aliens had set up dock. Iserwan was correct in his estimate of how long it would take them. I grabbed a hold of Dee’s prayer bag to get his attention. I motioned with my hand for him to stop. He touched Tantor’s shoulder to halt him. The deck plating rumbled with the footfalls of the Devastator troops as they raced toward our junction in the hallway. As of right now they had no idea we were there. If I could have possibly hidden in a room and let them run on by I think I would have.

  “Down,” I hissed, getting into a crouch. I quickly poked my head around the corner and took a glance before leaning up against the wall. They were about twenty-five yards away and coming fast. I took two breaths and then spun, resting my rifle against the wall. I began to pull the trigger as quickly as I could. Blue shots raced across the corridor, death riding the beams.

  Genos and humans came around me as the Devastator troops began to return fire. It looked like an Ozzy laser show in that hallway. The shield plating each Devastator had seemed to absorb a fair amount of our weapon’s discharges. It wasn’t bullet proof so to speak but it gave them an advantage. They could take two, even sometimes three hits before being down for the count. We’d surprised them, but they’d recovered quick enough and it wasn’t like we’d been able to set-up a tactical ambush; we were in a fucking corridor.

  Instead of falling back like you’d figure a normal enemy would, they pressed the attack. Oblivious to the death we were dealing them, they were in a rush to get to the forefront and accept our gift. I got the impression they were expecting some fair number of virgins on the other side. A human and Geno went down beside me, the former nearly cut in half from her wounds, the latter had caught a discharge to the side of the head, charring it like a long forgotten steak on the grill. We were killing more of them than they were of us, but they had the numbers.

  “Fall back!” I shouted over the din. Dee was right behind me, Tantor off to the left. I was swinging my head back to the enemy when I saw Tantor crumple. Shot in the thigh, it had sliced him open, his leg no longer able to support his body as muscle ends split and cauterized. I could hear him grunting in pain as he folded over. It was a short-lived suffering as a red bolt caught him in the neck. We were
getting shredded and would not have the opportunity to pull back because they were almost on top of us. Red and blue shots ricocheted off the walls, floor and ceiling. Someone nailed a control panel causing sparks to arc out as the lights went on and off wildly.

  The smoke was so thick it was nearly impossible to see anything. Something hit me hard in the back, forcing the wind from my lungs. I was driven to the ground by six hundred pounds of brute force. ‘Oh Dee,’ I thought. My friend had been shot and I was more concerned for his well-being than I was for the fact that I was being crushed under his bulk. Just when I should have become a much thinner version of myself I saw Dee’s arms brace on either side of me.

  “Quiet, Michael,” he grumbled, his huge maw no more than an inch from my ear. He was breathing heavy and I could tell by the way his mouth was open he was highly stressed. Lord knows I had half a dozen smartass responses to give him, but I thought better of it. What was left of our defenders were dead, dying or hopefully running the hell away. From my position I stared into Tantor’s lifeless eyes. I’d miss the brute, not only had he been a hell of a Genogerian, he’d also been a hell of a being, plain and simple. It seemed he was just beginning to turn the corner on the whole humor thing. Blood ran down the deck toward me, washing over my cheek like a red tide.

  The invaders stopped only long enough to finish off those who were still groaning. Best I could figure was that we’d killed somewhere in the neighborhood of fifty of them. But who would stop them now? There were no traditional troops on this ship; it was all mechanics, pilots, operators of various kinds and officers in charge of the whole affair, what we truly needed and we did not have were the people or Genos that knew how to use a rifle.

  “You alright, Dee?” I asked when the last enemy troop loped past.

  “Yes,” he said as he pushed up. “We must get back to the bridge.”

  “Won’t do any good, there’s too many of them.” Dee helped me up. “I’ve got a better idea.” I looked down the hallway at the gaping hole in our hull and into the Devastator transport. The Breacher was still attached like an over-sized blood-fat tick.

  “Michael?”

  “What will happen if we destroy that ship?”

 

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