Both bodies had been shot at close range, the dark blood now dried across the dirt around them, several bullet holes evident in the chest and back of the corpses. Riaz looked up, his jaw tensing as he rose, stepping carefully over the outstretched limbs and further forward into the darkness as the pin lights swept across the narrow jagged walls, shadows bouncing off the rock and dust ahead.
Stepping nervously round another corner, his muscles tensed as he swallowed deeply, suppressing the intense bile rising into his throat as three more bodies came into view, the soldiers having been executed as before. Scarabs and other insects fed off the flesh and bone as Riaz noticed the muscle definition had been reduced significantly, the corpses having been dead for longer than the ones further back along the passageway.
He stepped carefully past the bullet ridden corpses, staring beyond as the pin lights flickered and dimmed, his mobile battery packs power lowering as he stepped forward determinedly, a flashing low power warning icon appearing in the lower left hand corner of his visor.
As the side lights surged into life on either side once more, Riaz pushed his boots forward reluctantly, the pin lights seeming to bounce across the walls, shadows extending beyond, a low glow emanating in the distance as more side lights illuminated in response to his progression.
Approaching the source of the rotating sparkling beams, Riaz’s eyes widened, glimpsing the machine ahead, a deep glow pulsating from the jagged electronic structure. Insulated cabling spread from the resin and metallic mechanism, the lights surging and pulsing as he shook his head in confusion, the thoughts seeming misted and disorientated. As the jagged tall crystallised shafts surged in intensity, he shook his head once more, the helmet now pumping the last of the amphetamines into his system as the asian reservist soldier reached slowly to his waist, lifting a pulse grenade and staring at it in seeming disbelief and his fingers slowly twisted the cap.
The device vibrated in his gloved hands, his eyes staring almost mesmerised at the grenade as rough hands grasped him from behind, Shino shrieking through gritted teeth as she dragged him away, ‘Throw the grenade Riaz…throw it now!’
Riaz struggled to comprehend the instruction, slowly glancing round as he tossed the grenade forward, his mind confused and mesmerised by the surging lights. Pulled backwards, his eyes widened as the lights seemed to flash even more, almost pulling him forward emotionally and physically as he subliminally stared at the bouncing grenade, his body falling backwards as if in slow motion.
The detonation flashed across the walls on either side, the blast wave sweeping over their bodies as they physically shivered in response. Smoke billowed across their tensed ducked frames, both spitting the debris from their mouth as they gasped for air. Immediately Riaz’s mind cleared dramatically, the air sucked through his teeth in shock as the blast wave swept over them, dust and debris billowing between the narrow rock passageway walls and falling around and across the two figures as they coughed violently for oxygen.
They lay there for a sometime, stunned by the blast and billowing smoke, their chests heaving as they coughed to clear their throats of the falling dust. Painfully Riaz struggled upwards, the combat suits anaesthetic ability depleting as Shino groaned beneath him, his elbow digging into her abdomen sharply as he forced his frame upright, her arm pushing his away and causing him to fall to the side as he grunted in annoyance.
As the dust gradually cleared, he pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, coughing painfully from the explosion, Shino rising and placing her hands across her knees and grinning, her voice strained, ‘Well that was interesting…’
Riaz coughed again, smoke and debris surging across his vision as the view flickered, raising his head to stare into the reflective dark visor directly before him, realising all the side lights had gone out, the passageway in darkness apart from their fading helmet illumination, ‘We have destroyed the power to the lights…now we need to get back before our battery packs fail…or we will become lost in the dark!’
Then his eyes narrowed, hearing shuffling ahead in the darkness, his visor flickering as the sensors attempted to form a picture through the dust. Shino started to move backwards in fear, her breath held as the asian officer next to her stretched out cautiously for his assault rifle.
More shuffling ahead, a low groan seeming to spread through the tunnel as both figures struggled backwards, their bodies nudging against each other in the close confines of the dark passageway. Riaz pushed against the side rocks, raising his rifle to his eye as the visor crackled again, lines of static obscuring his view as he pursed his lips, remembering the scuttling scarabs that filled the tunnel floors.
He whispered softly as the rifle jerked nervously from side to side in front of him, ‘Get back further…I will follow…’ Shino nodded, her legs sweeping round behind him as she struggled back, kicking at the dirt and dust below for traction as she grasped her machine gun tightly.
Riaz strained his ears, the shuffling now seeming more coordinated, the moaning now more like whispers. Shaking his head in frustration at the struggling visor view, he pushed himself back along the cold stone, hearing Shino hissing to him from behind. The Philippine gasped in irritation as she stumbled across the corpses’ outstretched limbs, her vision still restricted as the helmet power failed, attempting to reboot the internal sensors. Stretching out her free arm, she felt desperately along the cold jagged rock face, her boots pushing through the dust as her eyes strained, the visor flickering as power surged back through it.
Riaz rose slowly upwards, pushing his back against the rock wall for support, his assault rifle pressed against the rock as power surged into his visor, the lights surging into his vision as he stared along the passageway into the darkness. The shuffling seemed nearer, Riaz moving the muzzle form side to side as he stepped tentatively backwards, hearing the figure behind move away, her voice a hiss, ‘Come on…I can see now…let’s get away!’
Low lighted graphic images of the passageway formed in his visor, the helmet reducing power to preserve his view as he began to turn, a shadow darting across the opening ahead as he jolted in fright, firing a burst along the narrow tunnel, the muzzle flashes reflecting off the walls, the shots almost deafening in the close confines of the rock faces.
A high pitched taunting giggle-like sound followed, seeming to resound across the narrow walls as his eyes widened, his body spinning round in terror as he frantically lunged away…his heart pounding in fear from what he thought he had glimpsed…red surging eyes passing across the opening just ahead.
They sprinted along the narrow passageways, jumping over the bodies and obstructions, Riaz pushing Shino before him, the Philippine having glimpsed his terrified expression as he lunged towards her, the smaller female frame turning to run instinctively. Gasping, they continued for some time, the incline becoming steeper as the visors began to flicker once more, the power almost exhausted.
Eventually emerging into the higher cavern, Riaz drew level as they strode quickly, his chest heaving in the poor oxygen as he gasped, sweat glistening across their faces, ‘Let’s get back to Tregan…I think the Morgons are behind us!’
Shino’s eyes widened in shock, ‘B-but you destroyed the lighting…were they beyond that?’
Riaz nodded, coughing slightly as his voice croaked, ‘There was an opening past the machine…I dunno what was down there…’ He glanced at her fleetingly, his fear rising, ‘I don’t want to know…let’s just get Tregan to blow the tunnels…collapse them all and seal off whatever hell is in there!’
He stiffened suddenly, his eyes widening further as Shino gasped, ‘There is no firing from the surface…perhaps we are now alone?’
Chapter Eight: Counterattack in Space
On Deck 67 of Alexion One, soldiers of the Royal Gurkha Rifles and the Trevakian reservists stared into the dust and smoke, the outer corridor of the station descending into an eerie silence as they held their breaths. Some forty metres before them, covered in a billowing mass, the
bodies of the first defensive line lay motionless, Morgon grenadiers and shock troops ducked behind the makeshift barricades placed by the defenders.
On the floor above, a Morgon commander hissed at his specialist troops, the two lines of eight feet tall armoured infantry flexing their muscles beneath thick black resin and metal plate, a keen eagerness to progress clear from their actions. Lifting long assault rifles and acid guns, they turned in unison, metal boots slamming against the floor of Deck 68 as they prepared to advance into the battle below.
The Gurkhas tensed, hearing the crack of boots, Captain Gurung turning to whisper as the tentacles of smoke reached them, ‘Make ready!’ He strained his eyes to stare through the swirling murk, the soldiers placed around him tensing their grips on their rifles nervously.
The young Trevakian next to him hissed, his visor surging red, ‘They are coming!’
Shrieks filled the corridor ahead, the Gurkhas eyes widening at the blood curdling call to advance, ‘Karachnee!’ The Morgon specialist troops charged forward, reaching the foot of the stairs. Several dropped to fire, the ‘pop’ of grenades just audible as the projectiles swept forward, green wisps of smoke curling in their wakes. Other specialist soldiers fired across the walls, their targeting sights adjusted to spot the mines through the smoke, several of the devices detonating as the high calibre bullets cracked against their sensors.
The Gurkha captain’s eyes widened as the grenades swept overhead, several exploding behind, the terrifying screams of his men filling the corridor as the unfortunate individuals splattered in green slime frantically attempted to remove the uniform suits. High explosive grenades followed, the deadly tactic designed to catch soldiers helping their comrades in the open, killing or wounding as many as possible.
As the first eruption swept over them, smoke canisters bouncing off the walls nearby, the captain screamed frantically, ‘Open Fire!’
Second Flight Officer Somas slowly walked along the line of pilots, concealing his apprehension as he gritted his teeth, ‘Welcome to Viper Wing…one of the finest space fighter units in all of the Trevakian Empire.’ He glanced at the differing uniforms, aghast that some of the young pilots provided were from transport units, the desperation to keep a squadron that the Morgons feared now reduced to scouring anyone with flight experience to man the controls of the sleek craft.
Stood on a central loading platform over reinforced passageways below, Somas looked round, seeing the engineers working feverishly on the damaged craft in the many hangars surrounding them in a small semi-circle, the landing bays just before the resin and steel domed enclosures. Set in darkness, the flight crews worked with illuminated goggles, the powered viewers enhancing a generated imagery of the tools and engines before them. Propaganda officers also worked with the engineers, supervising the livery of Viper squadron being transferred to the craft they had secured from other units, keen to present a full complement to Morgon pilots.
Somas turned as he reached the end of the line, the nine pilots glancing sideways as he spun on his heels, ‘Until First Officer Anjara is returned to the unit, I am assuming command.’ He stopped abruptly, scrutinising each pilot as his own commander used to before raising his voice, ‘We are tasked with joining the fight above…defending and securing Alexion One from the Morgon transports and fighters. There is vicious fighting on the upper decks and we must prevent the station from falling…with our lives if needed!’
The inexperienced pilots nodded, their bodies stiffening in innocent bravery as Somas stared at their young faces, five females in the line, ‘You all have your own tactics and manoeuvres…in this unit we fly as one, follow the flight leader’s instructions to the letter…do you understand?’
Somas smiled briefly as each soldier nodded eagerly, their voices in unison, ‘Yes Sir!’
He grinned in satisfaction, commencing a slow walk along the line once more, recalling when he had stood where they now did, ‘We strike hard and then retreat…pull the enemy towards Alexion One before striking again…such is the danger of this unit, we follow the principle of our and the humans most venomous snakes, the Viper.’ He cleared his throat, staring ahead as the young flyers were, ‘Shortly you will be issued with new flight uniforms, then we will take off. Some of you may not return, but you will now always be remembered as Viper flyers…pilots of exceptional courage and honoured as such…listed in the halls of our flight schools across the galaxies.’
Somas turned on his heels, his boots squealing across the metallic loading plate, his shoulders jerking as the Morasat Battery fired from the west, the blast from the high calibre guns resounding across the flight area. Turning to stare at the billowing smoke that swept skywards, he raised his hand to gesture, ‘These guns and the ones aboard Alexion One are what prevents us from being overwhelmed…when you are flying above always remember the troops fighting to protect our capital and base…be thankful they suffer far greater hardship and sacrifices than we will ever experience.’
He glanced across at the hangars, seeing an officer step to the front and signal to him, his voice rising, ‘It seems our craft are now ready…four of you will come with me to the next flight area…we have some craft waiting there. Once airborne, we will form up to the south above the low mountains…then take to the heavens!’
On Deck 67 of Alexion One, the Gurkhas opened fire, bullets pouring into the smoke as grenades bounced off the walls around them, several blown from their positions with the eruptions and shock waves, their screams joining those of the men now shaking uncontrollably in intense agony, the acid splatters eating though their flesh and organs.
One of the heavy machine guns poured rounds into the smoke, the shrieks of hatred filling the defenders’ ears as their assault rifles kicked back into their shoulders, more acid and high explosive grenades bouncing across the walls as some ducked in terror.
The Morgon troops ducked back, relishing the screams and blind firing as they prepared to charge, several drawing their ceremonial swords from their backs in excited anticipation, others checking their rifles as several grenades bounced towards them, the frontal defenders blown against the walls as the small devices exploded.
The loud shriek from the floor above spurred them into action, fifty highly armoured soldiers clambering down the steps and charging into the smoke, the survivors of the initial assault rising with them as the specialist soldiers reloaded their gruesome weapons.
Ten craft slowly rose vertically from the landing bays, the crews standing some distance away amongst billowing dust and saluting as the individual pilots stared warily downwards. The once sleek and sparkling vessels now held the battle scars of war with scorched and dented fuselages, deep scratches lining the wings and tearing across the snarling faces of the red leopard emblems emblazoned on the sides below the cockpits. A number of craft had quickly added replacement panels, the dull resin fuselage additions standing out against the original silver hull as bruised markings of a once great fighter wing.
Rising to a predetermined height, the ten craft crept forward on pulse power, gradually moving over the centre of Morasat, civilians and soldiers staring up at the fighters slowly progressed, many shaking their heads at the sorrowful state of the once elite fighting unit, none understanding that there was only now one remaining experienced Viper pilot amongst the flyers above.
Second Flight Officer Somas glanced out either side of his cockpit windows as they progressed, seeing flashes on both distant horizons, the high darkened jagged mountains ahead to the south shrouded in mist and higher, heavy snow clouds. The dim lights twinkled below, dust and smoke billowing from the downward engine force as residents shielded their eyes, many trudging solemnly to queue for food or supplies, grim rumours spreading of the deteriorating fighting situation, rationing now having been reluctantly introduced earlier that day.
The battered craft eventually reached the rendezvous point, Somas clicking the short wave communication network and synchronizing their ten craft once clear of the bui
ldings, his voice strained, ‘I will lead…assume ‘V’ formation and follow my mark…we rise towards Alexion One immediately!’
The nose of his craft gradually rose, the other nine fighters matching his manoeuvre as the pilots leant back in their padded seats, the pointed fronts of the craft rising to point vertically upwards as Somas clicked the microphone once more, ‘Remember…follow my mark…number two, fall in behind with the rest on either side. Once we are near Alexion One, I will assess our attack sweep!’
The craft shot upwards, a bright surge from the rear engines as Somas increased speed, keen to understand any weaknesses in the vessel. The second in command, a young twenty-eight-year-old Trevakian transport pilot, pushed his controls forward, his fighter sweeping after the first as the others surged upwards, the flyers’ chest filling with pride as they individually considered their place in one of the most elite flying units of the Trevakian Empire.
The Morgon soldiers charged along the outer corridor of Deck 67, their sight temporarily blinded in the swirling smoke and dust as the powerful bodies powered forward. Hearing the clanking of boots and the shrieks of hatred, Gurkha Captain Gurung turned, his adrenalin rising, ‘Every grenade! Drive them back!’
The remaining pulse mines detonated, explosions tearing through the corridor as he defenders poured fire forwards, tracers sweeping into the smoke as the shrieking got louder. More acid grenades flew over the front barricades, detonating behind and against the walls, the screams of the defenders drowned out as both machine guns began to fire, their three thousand round magazines now fully replenished, the laser gun spewing intensely powered light towards the attackers.
The flashes from grenades detonated through the swirling shroud, the first few Morgons thrown against the walls from the detonations and blast waves, sparks flying as bullets ricocheted off their armour, a number falling as the high calibre rounds split through the dense resin and armoured plate. Laser fire swept through armour and Morgon flesh, shrieks of pain and hatred chilling the defenders as the armoured enemy threw more troops into the battle.
Zaxon B: The Final Struggle (Galaxies Collide Book 4) Page 8