by Gary Beller
“Pod 01, hatch open and empty.”
“Pod 02, same.”
“Pod 03, Open and empty.”
“Pod 04, hatch closed but empty. Auto launch, probably.”
I looked into Pod 05, and shook my head. “05, Open and vacant.” Raines reported.
“Pod 06, open and empty.” Webb said. She stood and looked around. Tall purple grass waved in the gentle breeze, obscuring any path we could have followed. “Webb to Eagle, wasn’t there a river by that group of trees?”
“Yes, Lieutenant.”
“Thanks. Keep those engines hot. Webb out.” She turned to us. “Let’s move out, tactical files, towards that group of trees.”
“Roger that.” Raines said. “Makes sense,” He said, shaking his head in that direction. “The trees provide shade and shelter, and the water can replenish whatever they don’t use from the emergency rations.”
“Makes sense.” I said. The small holographic display inside of my helmet showed the temperature as 102 degrees Fahrenheit. We moved quickly through the grass in two lines, staggered slightly.
The silence was shattered as a group of red energy beams sliced across our path. “DOWN!” Raines yelled, turning towards the direction of the fire. Lieutenant Webb was next to him in a moment, and I took a knee, my weapon up, instinctively, although at the time I wasn’t sure if I was aiming the rifle, or hiding behind it.
A tingle of addreneline started in my toes and worked its way up my body. It was a different rush than I was used to. This wasn’t like playing football in front of 100,000 people at the Army-Navy Game. This was different. I was scared out of my mind, but also excited. For a moment I was as still as a statue, trying to wrap my head around the reality of the situation. The crackle of the comm brought me back to reality.
“You see where it came from, Sergeant?” She asked.
“Just know it came off the left, but almost perpendicular.” He said. “See that rocky outcropping there?”
“Yeah, I see it.” Webb said, “I got no reading on my sensors.”
“Me either, that’s why I think it’s the best chance.” Raines said.
“You’re the resident grunt, Sergeant. Ideas?” “Chalk me a few shooters, we’ll pull an end around. Set up some shooters here to lay down a base of fire. Send the rest of the team up field to those trees and find that crew.”
“Works for me.” Webb said. She pointed to one corpsman and three of the Petty Officers. “You four, move towards the trees. Stay low, try and stay out of sight.” She pointed to me and two of the Spacers, “Stay with me and get ready to fire. The rest of you go with Sergeant Raines.” “Lieutenant, swap with me. I wanna take Ebert.” “You sure, Sergeant?” She asked. “You weren’t pleased about him coming along.” I looked from Webb to Raines.
“Eh. He’s picking it up all right. Besides, if we’re gonna toss him right in the frying pan, it helps if the heat is on.”
As we moved around to flank the possible enemy position,Lieutenant Webb’s seven shooters opened up. Blue beams lanced out from their positions towards the rock pile. As we moved in an arc towards it, I saw movement. An indistinct shape moved, and red beams lanced out from the rocks, and then disappeared behind the rocks. “Sergeant, you see that?”
“Yeah. Do not engage until we come around the flank. No need to give our position away.” Raines said. “What makes you think they haven’t seen us?” One of the Petty Officers asked, mirroring the exact thought I had. A flurry of blue beams lashed out at the rocks again, kicking up pieces of rock.
“They are busy.” Raines deadpanned. We came around the rocks and saw them for the first time. The aliens looked like bipedal wolves, wearing camouflaged uniforms (although against the purple grass and silvertinted rocks, they stood out like a sore thumb.) I took a deep breath, realizing for the first time I was within shouting distance of people who wanted to end my existence.
“On my command.” Raines said. “Everyone pick a target.”
I lined the rifle’s sights on the center of one of the aliens. Through the zoom lens, I could make out the alien’s facial features: Blood red, intelligent looking eyes, grey and black fur spotted with white. He spoke to a nearby alien with a brindle fur pattern, pointing to the other side of the rocks.
In a moment, I remembered Raines’ advice on the firing line at the Academy, not to focus on the target as a while. I found a badge, and focused on it. That badge was my target, not the being behind it.
“Fire.” Raines said quietly, matching actions to words as his rifle spat blue energy.
I pulled the trigger, sending a blue beam out at the badge. I could see in my sight that I missed, just a hair to the left, but it did the job. My target dropped out of sight and I swept right, firing now at the largest mass resembling a target. Two quick trigger taps dropped that target out of frame as well.
My initial hesitation now passed, I shifted my weapon and found the next enemy and fired. The enemy overcame their surprise and began returning fire. Red beams flew past my head, and I felt a cold chill of fear despite the heat. One of the jumpers flew by, its crew chief hanging out of the open door firing the mounted heavy gun.
The exchange of fire only lasted about two minutes, it felt much longer than that, though. We moved quickly to clear the entire area behind the rocks, weapons up and expecting trouble.
“Area clear.” Raines said over the Comm. “Status check.” Webb ordered.
Raines turned and looked us over. “Four okay.” “Merchantmen located, some minor injuries among Starhopper crew, no casualties from Armstrong. “Alright. Everyone form up on the trees. Jumpers, pickup on that location.” Webb ordered, receiving confirmation moments later. As we walked towards the trees, I heard what sounded to my ears like a rumble of thunder. “We better hurry, Sergeant. Storm’s moving in.” “That’s no storm, Son,” Raines said, pointing off in the distance. “That’s an orbital bombardment.” I looked in the direction Sergeant Raines indicated: bright blue beams streamed down from orbit. The beams stopped, but three larger objects screamed in, resulting in a series of large explosions.
“They must have found the Banor basecamp.” Webb said as the jumpers landed. “Raines, establish a perimeter while we load up the Starhopper’s crew.” She ordered, while the four Spacers who had linked up with the merchantmen escorted their charges to the nearest jumper.
While they loaded up, I took deep pulls off my hydration pack’s hose, trying to stem the growing dryness in my mouth.
“Alright, blocking force, pull back and load up.” Webb ordered, as the first jumper lifted off. The pilot put the ship through a gentle turn, then climbed up and away, the ship’s two engines roaring as they pushed the twentymeter long transport through the air and away from the planet.
I broke from my post when tapped on the shoulder, and ran up the ramp to find my seat. Sergeant Raines took the seat next to me, and in a moment the rest of the landing party was aboard. The crew chiefs secured their door mounted guns and pulled the forward doors shut, dogging them down as the aft ramp lifted into position. The jumper lifted and made a 180 degree turn before pitching up and accelerating.
The force of the acceleration pushed me towards the back of the cabin, sliding me into Sergeant Raines before the inertial compensator caught up. My ears popped as the internal pressure changed slightly. The color of the sky transitioned from blue to black as the jumper crossed into the vacuum of space.
I pulled my helmet off and leaned against the bulkhead, taking a deep breath. “Hey,” Raines said, elbowing me.
“Yes, Sergeant?” I asked, hoping my voice didn’t betray the weariness I was feeling.
“You okay?” He asked.
“I think so.” I said. “You?”
“Yeah, man. I’m fine. You did well, Jack.” “Thank you, Sergeant.” I said with a nod. “Take the rest of the day off, I’ll have another Mid cover your watches. We’ll have to debrief after we land, but I want you to relaxafter that.”
; “Aye, Sergeant.” I said.
“You’ll do alright, Jack.” He said.
Chapter 9
The greeting I received returning to our berthing spaces was a high point of the day for me. Mids I barely talked to wanted to shake my hand. Karissa managed to sneak a hug in, which was normally against the rules.
Sergeant Raines came in a few steps behind me, also receiving a warm reception, handshakes and pats on the back. He allowed the party to carry on for a few minutes before calling the room to attention. “Listen up. This is twice now on this cruise that we’ve encountered Banor forces. I think it’s fairly safe to assume we will encounter more Banor units before we return to Earth.” He paused a moment, a look of deep concern crossing his face, replacing the usual emotionless expression.
Raines looked around the room, making eye contact with all of us. “Every one of you has done exceptionally well given the less than ideal circumstances. For that you should be proud. But our mission is not over. We are still three days from our destination and have to make the trip back to Earth. Keep up the good work.”
With that, he spun on his heel and walked out. “As you were.” Bielema said, allowing us to break from the position of attention. As she approached me, Raines popped back in. “Bielema, Clairemont, a word, please?”
The two women looked at each other, exchanging confused glances, and followed him out into the passageway. “So, did you get one?” Vance asked.
“Huh?” I replied, confused.
“Did you get a Banor?” he asked.
“Yeah. I got a couple of them, actually.” I replied,
sitting on my bunk, walking him through how the rescue went down. While I talked to Vance, everyone else quietly gathered around to listen.
Out in the passageway, Raines spoke with Rachel and Karissa. “Right now, Ebert’s on the high part of what is going to be a bit of a roller coaster ride. At some point, he’ll come down and probably come down hard. Keep an eye on him for the next few days.”
“Is he being pulled from his watches?” Karissa asked.
“Not yet. I want to see how he handles himself. When he gets out to a unit, he won’t have the luxury of sitting back and relaxing for a few days just because someone shot at him. I want to reinforce that now, as much as possible.”
“Understood.” Bielema said.
***
Normally, I never had a hard time sleeping. Even after breaking my leg in my first Army/Navy game, I was still able to find a comfortable way to sleep. The night of the rescue, however, was a bit different.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the face of that Banor soldier. I could see, just as clearly as if he was alive again and standing before me, the wind rippling the fur on his face, and the sudden look of surprise as my particle beam ripped through his body.
I took some odd solace in the thought that the wolflike alien was probably dead before he fell out of my sight picture. I understood that in that moment, he was preparing to do that same thing to me, but even then I didn’t wish him a long, agonizing death.
I tried forcing myself to sleep until around a quarter to midnight. The quiet commotion of three Midshipmen preparing for a night watch in Engineering scuttled my attempts at sleep.
“Jack? You’re still up?” One of them asked. “Yeah, Vin.” I shrugged.
“Writing notes for your memoirs of epic badassery
of your plebe year?” He asked. I laughed, “I wish. Just can’t co nvince my brain to switch off.” I said with a shrug.
The other Mids slipped out of the berthing space and headed for Engineering, leaving me in the dark. I reached up behind my head and found a book, pulled the curtain closed and hit my reading light.
***
The alarm cut through the fog of my sleep. I sat up, only to bounce my head off the rack above me, eliciting a string of swear words that would have left my mother shocked.
Rolling out of my rack, I fumbled with the combination of my locker, finally opening it and pulling out my uniform. Luckily the one-piece jumpsuit was quick to get into, as Sergeant Raines came in. “Attention!” One of the midshipmen yelled. “As you were, but listen up!” Raines yelled back.
“We’re five minutes out of our next course change, but the lead ships encountered resistance. Once we arrive insystem, we’ll be moving to screen the convoy. Everyone is to report to battle stations immediately.”
I pulled my boots on and was out into Broadway a moment later, working my way to the CIC. “Ebert, Clairemont, I need you two over here.” One of the Chiefs said, directing us to a sensor station. “Sorry, kids. I’m gonna have to ask you to grow up a bit quicker than was planned.”
Karissa and I looked at each other, then took our posts. They were, in all actuality, the same consoles we had manned during the previous space battle. This time, they had been reconfigured for use as sensor stations.
“CIC, Bridge, We’re slowing to sub light. Standby.” The Captain’s voice came over the speakers. “Bridge, CIC, we copy. You have weapons at your
command.” Lieutenant Webb said. The XO arrived and
took the center console on the command group. “Ebert,
Clairemont, what are we seeing?”
I looked at my sensor board. “Sensors show two
cruisers, a dozen smaller vessels. Computer suggests Dartclass Starfighters.” I reported.
The perspective on the sensor board shifted, telling
me the ship was moving intoa screen position. “Ebert, put that feed up on main three.” Lieutenant Webb said from
her station.
Without reply, I found the controls to put my
screen’s display up on the large holographic display on the
right side of the front bulkhead. “New contact! Two seven
zero mark five five relative, range One Hundred thousand
kilometers and closing!” Karissa said. I gestured quietly to
her to breath, which she nodded and took a deep breath. “Do we have an identity on the new contact?”
Webb asked.
“Computer is running it now, Ma’am.” Karissa
said. I looked over at her screen, muted the mic on my
headset, and asked, “What’s that?” pointing to a small
contact separating from the new one. A moment later a
second blip appeared.
“Conn, Sensor two, new contact is launching
something. Moving too slow to be torpedoes.” Karissa
said.
“Standby.” Webb said. “Ebert, adjust focus on Port
three, see if we can make it out.”
“Aye, Ma’am.” I said. I switched my console over
to the sensor system she ordered, and adjusted the
resolution on it. “Large contact is Coalition in origin, computer can’t be certain at this range, but gives 83% probability that ship is an Oriskany class carrier. Smaller
contacts look to be Starfighters.”
“Incoming on Fleet Tac 1. It’s the Yorktown.” “Put it on, Mr. Phelps.” Webb said.
“Convoy TR-978, Come about on heading 271
mark 45, increase to maximum speed.” The voice said
over the speakers.
“CIC, Bridge, Ready guns to cover the convoy,
hold missiles, fast movers inbound.”
The Captain wasn’t kidding, either. The friendly
Starfighters, which the computer identified as two
squadrons of Marine Corps Bearcats and two squadrons of
Navy Tomahawks, flew past the convoy and engaged the
Banor Darts. Lieutenant Webb cued the visual sensors to
one of the side display boards.
“Lieutenant, Guns has positive lock on Cruiser 1.
Permission to fire?”
“Standby.” Webb said, then tossed a glance to me.
“Is our line of fire clear, Midshipman?”
I looked at my sensor board, feeling the pressure
now. “Yes, Ma’am. Dogfight has above the system’s
plane, Cruisers are relative down.”
“Bridge, CIC. We have a target lock for guns and
a clear line of fire. Permission to engage?” Webb said into
the intercom.
“CIC, Batteries released. Fire at will.” The Captain
ordered. I took a deep breath, hoping I was right in my
reading of the sensor screens. I watched the visual sensors
for a tense moment as the blue beams began lashing out at
the Cruiser, sweat beaded on my forehead. The beams
passed well clear of our fighters, slamming into the
Cruiser, and I breathed a sigh of relief.
That relief didn’t last long. “Incoming torpedoes!”
Karissa said, the calm in her voice gone again, replaced by
an alarmed tone that gave voice to what both of us had to
be feeling.
The perspective on my sensors shifted again,
indicating that the ship was maneuvering. An auxiliary
display board showing our course track (Basically a topdown view of the area of space in our immediate area, with
a line following every move the ship made), showed the
Armstrong to be making a sharp turn into the torpedoes. “Wait…we’re turning into the Torpedoes?” I
asked.
“Can’t outrun them, kid, best bet is to give them as
small a profile as possible, pump out decoys and try and
engage with CIWS.” A Chief Petty Officer said behind
me.
“Thanks, Chief.” I said, my nervousness now
reaching a peak.
“CIWS engaging.” A calm voice said in my ear.
My attention was on the sensors: Two cruisers, now
turning away, being held at bay by three frigates and fortyfour Starfighters (Four ships having been shot down); only
five darts were on the boards.
I felt a tap on my shoulder, surprising me. Sergeant