by Doug Hoffman
The tunnels led them into a large amphitheater, a large bowl with tiers of balconies running around a central space. It looked like a crystal opera house except that in the center front, where the stage should be, was a titanic transparent stalactite hanging down from the ceiling. The balconies intercepted the stalactite at multiple levels. As the Marines tried to make sense of the construct before them a dark shadow intruded on the topmost portion of the inverted crystal funnel. Slowly the dark object penetrated the stalactite, filling it with a foreboding shape.
“That has to be the alien troop ship docking,” observed Brains.
“Christ on a crutch,” the Gunny swore. “Everybody fan out, and find some way up to the other levels. They must be where the passengers disembark.”
“On it, Gunny,” Bosco replied.
“I don't think I'm going to fit up those ramps,” Inuksuk commented.
“So stick where you are, Corporal, and try to find some cover. Everyone turn on active camo. We don't know what frequencies these beasties see in but it can't hurt.”
Grits and Brains had already ascended one level and were headed for the next up ramp. Brains glanced over the side and spied the bear attempting to blend in. He commented to his partner on suit-to-suit.
“That bloody bear blends in like a pecker on a poll dancer.”
“He does stand out like a hound dog's balls.”
“We're all in the shit if we don't find firing positions with some cover.”
Farther around the left side, Grits sighted Keti and the rest of Bosco's team spread across three levels of balcony. He was tempted to wave but thought better of it. Over the squad frequency came the Gunny's voice.
“Everyone check your fields of fire. Make sure we got every area in here covered and that the fields overlap. Make sure your tactical computers register the Marines next to you so you can coordinate your fire when the time comes.”
There was a deep booming sound, like a giant door being closed, as the alien ship settled into the docking cradle. The crystalline material surrounding its black snout began to shift, growing and sealing the hull from the vacuum outside.
“No homespun saying for this situation, mate?” Brains asked his friend.
“Not for this, Bubba. Other than don't get your ass shot off.”
“Roger that.”
Chapter 36
Hallway, Shopping Mall
During a lull in the hail of plasma bolts Hitch jumped across the open doorway to the right side where Kashi lay. This prompted a renewed barrage from the invaders that splattered the far wall with angry orange flame and left cherry red hotspots that slowly faded.
Looking at the stricken sailor Hitch could see the wound was serious. Though his suit's nanites were gamely trying to seal the wound, Kashi's side looked like burnt meat. Several ribs were visible through charred flesh. Pulling out a can of spray sealant, Hitch covered the open area with quick hardening foam.
“Hang in their, buddy. Help is on the way.” Kashi did not answer, his medical unit having already knocked him out with painkillers. Looking up Hitch saw three sailors coming his way. The one in the lead raised his railgun and fired.
Hitch dropped and tried to become one with the deck as streams of green tracers passed just overhead. The tracers stopped and he looked over his shoulder to see what the new comers were firing at. There was another of the aliens, its neck and head missing and the front of its body chewed to bloody pulp. It toppled over as he watched.
Hitch turned back to the newcomers. “About time you got here, Kashi's messed up bad. We gotta get him to the Doc.”
“Good to see you still kicking, Stevie,” Chief Jacobs replied. He and the two sailor's with him were stacked up on the left side of the doorway. “What's in there?”
“More like the one you just hosed. Must have been a dozen come out of the landing craft. A bunch of them got away down the hall behind me. That's when Kashi got hit.”
A flurry of plasma bolts tore through the jagged hole behind Hitch, as if to emphasize his point. Both Hitch and Jacobs fired bursts of 5mm through the door way and just as quickly pulled back.
“Beans, you need to move beyond Hitch's position and cover that hole. We'll provide suppressing fire on one... three, two, one!”
Again the two chiefs leaned into the doorway and let fly, this time including a couple 20mm explosive rounds. Beans Branford sprinted by the opening as they fired, skidding to a halt just beyond Kashi's inert form. He was just in time.
One of the creatures stuck its head through the hole. Beans hosed it down on full auto, 1200 rounds a minute at a velocity of 1800 meters per second. The alien's head dissolved in a hail of flechettes, spatter flying in all directions.
While Beans was taking out the alien the other sailor, Tamara Wilson, dashed past the doorway. Then Beans hustled past the opening the aliens had blasted in the wall. Now there were sailors on either side of both exits from the room.
“We need to dampen these suckers' enthusiasm. You got any grenades, Matt?”
“Funny you should ask, Stevie.” Jacobs pulled a baseball sized object from his backpack. “You want to bet I can put this through the door of that landing craft?”
“No, but do it and I'll buy you a drink in the next bar we come to.”
“OK. Some suppressing fire, guys, on one.”
The other sailors acknowledged as Jacobs counted down.
“Three, two, one!”
The others fired. Chief Jacobs took a step into the doorway and threw the grenade with an underhanded pitch. It flew straight and true, right through the opening the landing craft had created. He pulled back and bellowed.
“Fire in the hole!”
The four sailors huddled away from the openings with backs against the wall. The grenade went off, the spike of overpressure thumping their chests. A split second later the atmosphere around them began to howl.
“Hold on to your asses, the grenade must have blown a hole in the station!” Hitched yelled.
“Ya think, Stevie?” his friend replied. “Remember, the grenade was your idea.”
“You're the one who decided to throw it into the alien ship.”
“Everybody's a fucking critic.”
2nd Squad
Kato hustled past the shuttered opening to the splagg's cage, hoping that his suit's camo worked on big gray alien mutant elephant things. As he went he stuck explosive charges to the shutter. He ran out of charges about midway across the opening and sprinted for the far side.
“Assad. You need to come to me and finish planting charges across the opening.”
“I don't remember this in training, Corporal!” the Marine replied. Kato gestured furiously, waving the man on. “I am coming, in shā' Allāh.”
Assad scooted across the door opening in a crouch, as if that would help hide him should his suit camo fail. He stuck his two charges to the shutter as he passed and quickly took shelter behind Kato at the other side of the door. Looking back at where they came from they could see the other two members of Kato's fireteam. Kato gave them a thumbs up.
“OK, we're ready. We may have to lure it out into the main chamber.”
“Like hell!” one of the others replied. Kato ignored him.
“Sarge, we're set to release the splagg. Over.”
“Copy that, Kato. We are in position. Release the beast and try not to get stomped on.”
“Roger, I'm blowing the door now.”
After one last look to make sure his people were clear, Kato triggered the detonator. There was a loud whomp as the wide crystal door shattered and blew outward. The splagg, which had been contentedly eating some form of leafy fodder from a bin on the back wall of the cage, spun around with impressive quickness for something so large. Then, bugling like a tortured steam calliope, it whirled its way through the opening and into the main chamber where the unsuspecting invaders awaited.
Plaza, Shopping Mall
JT was trying to monitor the progress of both Ma
rine squads remotely when the sailors raised the alarm about hostiles boarding the station. He was about to send Rick and the SEALs to reinforce Hitch and the sailors when Shanakta-fek let out a shriek. He looked down at the lemur-like alien, who was babbling incoherently and pointing across the plaza at the far wall.
As he watched, the dark shape of an alien spacecraft landed on the side of the spire. A docking collar pressed against the transparent station wall and an instant later blew a hole in it.
“Cover! We have hostiles inside the perimeter.” JT yelled, but the SEALs were already moving. In the middle of the plaza, atop the raised platform, something else was moving as well, something the aliens did not expect—a battle bot.
Detecting the explosion, the robot weapons platform guarding the plaza correctly assumed it was under attack. In less than a second it's multi-barreled railgun rose and pivoted to cover the point of the explosion. It released a torrent of 15mm explosive shells, six thousand a minute, a rate as high as a half squad of Marines. Before the first alien warrior could set foot on the station the ship and all aboard it disintegrated in a rippling explosion of yellow fire.
Seeing the alien boarding thwarted in such an energetic manner JT could think of only one thing—that wall cannot hold.
“Everybody find something to hang on to!”
Then he remember Shanakta-fek. Grabbing a body bag that was draped over a nearby kiosk, JT sized the Kieshnar-rak-kat-tra by the scruff of the neck and stuffed him into the bag. Shoving the last of the alien's bushy tail into the sack he yelled.
“Don't try to get out until I tell you!”
The wall of the spire exploded outward, shards of crystal and debris from the attacking ship blown into space by the station's escaping atmosphere. JT zipped the body bag shut and stuffed it into the kiosk.
Howling like a cat five hurricane, the station's atmosphere tried to equalize pressure with the vacuum out side. The battle bot shook and deployed legs with gravitonic pads to stabilize itself while things not held down were sucked into oblivion. Inside the kiosk, Shanakta-fek's body bag inflated like a balloon due to the drop in air pressure.
“How long is this gale gonna last, Lieutenant?” asked Rick.
“Don't know, Chief. There's a lot of air in this spire.”
“Yeah, but that's a damned big hole.”
“That it is, but look, it's already getting smaller.”
JT was right. The edges of the jagged hole were starting to flow inward as the Starflake's self healing skin tried to plug the leak. After an eternity—which actually lasted only a few minutes—the howling wind diminished and then stopped. The hole was gone.
Phil came jogging up, carrying his assault weapon at the ready. “You OK, Lieutenant? Did any of them get off before our mechanical buddy tried to deflate the spire?”
“From what I saw nothing got off that ship. They probably never knew what hit them.”
From the other direction, Rick and Bud approached.
“If I have ever said anything bad about those mechanical dogfaces I take it back.”
“Amen, Chief.”
“Hey,” said Bud. “Where's your little fuzzy weasel buddy?”
“Crap, I almost forgot.”
JT leaned over the counter of the kiosk where he had stashed the furry alien and opened the now collapsed body bag. A ball of fur sprang from the bag and wrapped itself around the Green Beret's spherical helmet, hanging on for dear life with all four paws.
“Damn it, get off me you hairball!” JT reached up and tried to get a grip on the frantic alien. “You're OK. The hostiles are all dead. Let go of my helmet or I swear I'm going to space you, fuzz nuts.”
With the help of Chief Morgan, JT was relieved of his furry headgear. The trader was deposited on the deck where he continued to glance about frantically, panting and shaking all the while. Eventually he regained his voice.
“We, we are all right? You have defeated the Others?”
“Just the ones on this spire, fuzzy. We won this battle, but the war ain't over yet. Not by a long shot.”
1st Squad
Loud creaking noises echoed around the arrival area as the troop carrier settled into its docking slot. Dispersed throughout the four arrival balconies a dozen Marines waited tensely for the balloon to go up, for the invading aliens to begin exiting the ship. On the third level balcony Grits and Brains were spread out at the limit of suit-to-suit comm range.
“So what's keeping them? Do they want an engraved invitation?”
“Cool your beans there, Bubba. This is like deer hunting. We're up in our deer stand waiting for the dear to come to us.”
“Great. So tell me, Yank. Do deer often fire back at the hunters?”
“Don't be silly. That's what makes this lots more exciting than deer hunting.”
“Will you to clowns quit chattering? You are more annoying than the aliens.”
“Hey, is that you Keti?”
“Of course it's me, who else do you like to annoy so much?”
“Where are you?”
“One level down, in between your two positions. Check your tactical display, stupid.”
“See, mate? Even Keti thinks you're a bleeding tosser.”
“You leave him alone, crumpet-sucker. He's annoying me, I am the one who gets to call him names.”
“Now y'all don't fight over me. You'll make me blush. Shit, it's opening up!”
Across the amphitheater curving sections of balcony extended to embrace the crystal dock, sliding out from either side. They stopped moving and the crystal material of the dock melted away, leaving the bow of the alien ship exposed.
“Cheers, mate, I think this is it.” Brains brought up the targeting displays inside his helmet, and not an instant too soon.
Hatches opened on the ship, pouring a stream of running aliens out onto the top three levels of balcony. The bottom most level evidently was too narrow to disembark troops from. As they fanned out from the ship the Gunny's voice came over the squad channel.
“Wait for it. Wait for it. Now!”
The amphitheater lit up with crossing streams of green tracers. The lead attackers fell but more poured from the ship. Seeing they were under attack, the boarders came out firing. On the second level they hopped down to the floor and engaged the Marines in the balconies. Soon a wave of invaders was pushing its way across the floor toward the first level exits.
“They are trying to overrun us and escape into the station,” Keti shouted. “When we concentrate on the ones below they move around on the balconies.”
Grits was positioned farthest to the left on the third level. Marines on the far side of the hall were firing on the aliens trying to advance on his flank. He glanced to the left just in time to see an alien hop over the dead body of one of its comrades and point a weapon in his direction. Instinctively he raised his left arm and shot the alien with a 15mm round, blowing it to pieces.
“Watch your flanks! These critters are coming around the sides.”
“Concentrate on your fields of fire!” the Gunny yelled. “Those in the middle target the hostiles coming across the floor.”
Grits, Brains, and Keti on the level below fired explosive rounds at the attackers on the right flank. Those aliens were trying to get to the Marines whose fire was keeping the attackers off their left flank. Meanwhile a new wave of hostiles jumped to the floor and raced for the Marines on the first level. Then there was a loud roar and Inuksuk rose up and waded out into the attacking hoard.
Over the squad channel the Gunny's voice was heard.
“Aw shit.”
Kestrels
The two jet black fighters drifted away from the Peggy Sue. They were waiting to get clear of the mother ship before announcing their position, which would happen as soon as they fired off their drives. To get maximum acceleration they would also need to burn antimatter, a further tip off to the alien warships.
Her helmet provided Beth with a three dimensional view in all directions,
as though the ship around her didn't exist at all. Instruments and targeting information seemed to float in space in front of her eyes. Her hands gripped the controls in a HOTAS configuration—Hands On Throttle-And-Stick. No need to relinquish control to throw a switch.
“OK, Frank. We are going to firewall it and head straight for the station. We need to get between the alien frigates and the station itself so they can't fire on us.”
“Roger that, Commander. But what says they can't fire at us then?”
“Unless they want to destroy their prize or cause collateral damage among their own boarding party they won't.” At least I hope they won't. “I didn't think 15mm was going to get the job done with those big troop carriers, so I had the engineers swap out the lighter railguns for an extra pair of missiles. We are carrying six each. The plan is to go after the farthest out and work our way in.”
“What if some of their fighters show up?”
“Use your centerline railgun or wingtip plasma cannon. Save the missiles for the big bogies. Remember, fighting in space is not sport. It is scientific murder.”
“Roger that, Ma'am.”
“OK, from here on in you're Kestrel Two and I am Kestrel One. Just follow my lead and good hunting.”
Beth pointed her nose toward the station nearly one hundred kilometers away and went to full power.
“Tally ho, Kestrel One.” Beth didn't know if Frank was using that 'tally ho' stuff because she was a Brit, or if he was just caught up in the moment. It didn't matter in either case, so long as he stuck to her six.
Bridge, Peggy Sue
“Here's the plan, Ms. Palmer. We are going to adjust the ship's attitude to allow railgun shots at these three targets.” Bobby highlighted the targets on the main display. “We will hit them in order of decreasing distance: the one on the far side first, the lower front second, and finally the upper front.”
“Aye, Sir,” the young lieutenant replied. “I thought there were four frigates?”
“The forth is masked by the station, we'll have to come back for it after we handle the big boys.”