Riaz continued walking, seeing the black and camouflaged uniforms begin to disperse through the doors at the end of the room, previously the entrance for the wounded. Curiosity overcoming him, he followed them to the open doors, glancing outside. In the corridor, he saw the last of the Royal Marines jog round the bending corner, some of them still coughing. Then his eyes fixed on the window set at the bend, the circular design of the Space Station having similar enforced windows at uniformed intervals along each outer ring, the many rooms on the inside of this corridor.
He slowly approached, his eyes widening as his changing angle with the transparent reinforced glass enabled him to see through it effectively. Looking in awe, his eyes widening further, he took in the scene through the window. The darkness of space was infinite, the distance stars sparklingly brightly. To the right, the planet below seemingly glistened in its atmosphere, the cloud formations drifting slowly across the darkened surface. Several broken and torn satellites were floating in their individual orbits, the signs of the ongoing prolonged battle for the planet below.
As he drew breath at the sight, he saw the many lumps of floating rock debris on the outer edges of the atmosphere. Distant flashes, both on the planet surface and in the depths of space indicative of the ongoing struggle added to the scene. Focussing his gaze on the planet, he looked at the dark land masses, mostly covered in a white layer of snow, the darker less frequent masses of frozen water seeming to occasionally sparkle in the rays of the distant sun shining from behind the space station.
He became aware of the presence of others, looking round to see the astonished faces of his three colleagues, their mouths open as they took in the view before them. Shino slowly raised her hand to point to the left, the group seeing the Morgon fighters approaching in the distance. Small dots at first, the craft seeming to get larger as they sped towards the station. Seeing the flashes as their forward guns fired, the Laser Shield glowed slightly as blasts of high powered light shot from the droids towards the incoming fire, the explosive rounds shattering on impact and flashing across the darkened space.
Debra coughed as the lasers fired again, the fifteen Morgon fighters screaming past to the far left as they banked to avoid the droids. Far in the distance, they could see the dots of the Morgon invasion ships, the large vessels discharging drop ships towards the surface of the planet. The space station shuddered as the heavy calibre guns fired from high in the levels above, the short shafts of blue light shooting towards the fighters as they banked round and back into view in the distance. As they flew away from the station, Shino pressed her nose to the cold glass-like barrier, looking directly below and seeing the drop ships recommence their runs to the surface, the Laser shield now extended towards the planet’s atmosphere.
More small flashes on the planet’s surface could be seen as the desperate battle raged on, the Morgon ground forces now using heavy artillery against the Trevakian defensive positions. As they watched, the Morgon fighters seemed to hang in space, then shoot upwards as they flipped to recommence a second attack. Now aiming for the drop ships, they sped down across the viewing window, attempting to breach the weaker shield below. Lighter flack cannons opened fire from below the station, the smaller blue lights shooting out to intercept the fighters as they approached the thinner Laser Shield. The flashes continued as the droid’s lasers intercepted the incoming fire, the missiles exploding before the shield. Several explosions within the droid ring indicated the success of concentrated fire breaking through the shield. One transport shuddered as the explosion hit its side, the drop ship spinning and breaking into the small droid field, the craft spiralling out and into open space.
As they watched, three Morgon fighters broke from formation to hurtle after the stricken vessel as the transport’s pilot desperately tried to enter the atmosphere and potential safety in time. As the vessels got more distant, the four colleagues strained their eyes, seeing the smoke trail across the atmosphere as the drop ship began to break through the outer fields at a steep angle. The Morgon vessels gaining on their prey, their front guns blazed as the drop ship veered from side to side in counter measures.
Holding his breath, Riaz gritted his teeth. The flash as the drop ship exploded causing him to exhale in frustration, the Morgons sweeping past across the top of the atmosphere, barely visible in the distance.
Then he spun round in surprise as the deep voice startled him, bellowing along the corridor, ‘What are you soldiers doing?’
Looking round sharply, startled, Riaz and the others stared at the three Trevakian marines at the bend in the corridor, their officer standing with his hands on his hips glaring. He indicated to them, ‘Why are you waiting? All able soldiers are to report to the armoury!’ He indicated to two of his men to proceed, the marines stepping towards the four at the viewing window, their assault rifles held across their chests.
Debra Hardie stepped forward defiantly, ‘We are from Earth…we are not combat soldiers!’
The officer hesitated, then his eyes narrowed, ‘Heathrow Battalion?’ He held his hand up as Debra opened her mouth to protest, looking at one of his soldiers next to her.
The marine checked the insignia on their shoulder armour and stood back officially, nodding to his commander, ‘Yes Sir, Heathrow Battalion!’ He snapped to attention.
The officer nodded, his face still grim, ‘I understand this may be quite a surprise for you, but the rest of your unit is collecting their new weapons from our armoury before going on to the surface.’ He indicated to the two marines stood next to them, ‘Escort them to their weapons private!’
The marine nodded, ‘Yes Sir!’ He gripped his weapon tightly, indicating for the four to move towards the officer, his visor snapping down.
Debra Hardie spluttered, ‘Listen! We are Heathrow security, not regular army! The uniforms…’ She indicated to their clothing, ‘…they were provided as a welcome for us on Earth!’
The officer shook his head, ‘Interesting story, but unlikely…’ He indicated with his hand to the other marine, ‘Get them to the armoury now. You are responsible for escorting them to the planet’s surface. We need all the troops we can get!’
Debra Hardie shook her head in exasperation, her arms raising in frustration as the marine pushed her, ‘We are citizens from Earth…you cannot treat us this way!’
The officer was becoming impatient, ‘Signal 2487 from Earth, Admiral Karladen orders are specific, ‘All earth soldiers to be placed under Trevakian command upon initial deployment.’ You four fall under that instruction!’ His hand reached towards his pistol, ‘Now get to the armoury!’
Shino quickly grasped Debra’s arm to prevent her talking again, whispering, ‘Let’s just go there, he is not going to listen…’
Debra turned to look at the others, seeing the fear in their eyes, their heads nodding nervously. She shrugged, walking slowly as the marine indicated for her to continue, ‘Dryden is our guide, he will explain!’
The officer grinned menacingly, ‘Dryden is not on the station…he is on earth. The transporter link is closed!’ His eyes softened slightly as he saw the fear on their faces, ‘I will check your story once the transporter is re-connected.’ He nodded sympathetically as they passed, ‘Until then, my instructions are to collect all able bodied soldiers for the defence below, you four fall into that category and your unit insignia matches that of your countrymen in the armoury!’ Seeming momentarily to reconsider, he then indicated to the marine next to them, ‘Carry on Private, get them to the surface. Assign them to the reserve in the city until we establish their story.’ He looked into Debra’s stare, ‘That should buy the time for any information to get through. Now Go!’
The four walked nervously along the corridor, their faces grim. Sam leant towards Shino, his voice shaking, ‘They must have left the armour setting on Heathrow Battalion…they think we belong to the soldiers’ unit!’
Shino nodded, a wry smile crossing her lips, her voice low, ‘Fate is playing with us I
think……This is our time, Sam! We make of it what we can!’
A look of horror crossed the young black man’s face as he hesitated, staring in incomprehension at Shino, ‘What the f….?’
The marine next to him grasped his shoulder roughly, ‘Keep moving, we need to get to the last of the transports before the Morgons break through the field!’ Sam shook his shoulder free, turning to glare at the marine defiantly, the man’s face seeming surprised as he spoke again, ‘Look, we will stay with you. If your stories are true…we will escort you back. In the meantime, Keep Walking!’
The other Trevakian marine escorting them indicated to the door ahead, punching the access code into the keypad. As the doors swept open, they glimpsed the last of the soldiers exiting the armoury from the doors at the opposite end, the Royal Marines and Special Air Service now all dressed in Trevakian combat uniforms.
The marine indicated to a counter on the right, a blue dressed Trevakian officer stood behind it, ‘Four combat rifles?’
The lead marine nodded, ‘Yes, semi-automatics and plenty of ammunition. Three grenades each.’ He looked at Debra, smiling. Then he hesitated, seeming to re-consider, ‘No, change that…..three semi-automatics and one sniper!’ Indicating to Sam, ‘This one will take sniper! He is the silent type.’
Turning to the group as the officer went to get the weapons, the marine lowered his hand from his ear, pursing his lips, ‘We will join your unit until we get information from earth…to keep an eye on you.’ He leant forward towards them, ‘We need to keep you safe from the Morgons and I am worried you may try and desert.’ His expression seemed to mellow, ‘Deserting will mean the Morgons will probably capture you or worst still, dissect you. I will not let that happen, you are our allies now.’
The four nodded in apprehension. Riaz slowly raising his hand, seeing the marine indicate for him to talk, ‘We have little or no weapons experience…will you help us?’
The marine nodded, smiling more comfortingly, ‘There is a reserve unit on the planet in the capital city, stationed away from the fighting. We will head there when we land and I will teach you. They are quite straight forward weapons, and personalised. Your visor will assist with the targeting too, it shouldn’t take too long.’ He turned as the blue uniformed quartermaster returned carrying two rifles, the man behind him another two.
The marine indicated to Riaz, glancing at his shoulder armour, ‘First weapon to this soldier. Name R-I-A-Z, check heartbeat and body temperature for synchronisation.’
The officer nodded, handing the weapon to Riaz’s outstretched hands, the young Asian smiling as he felt the lightness of the combat weapon.
The officer looked down at his console, ‘Heartbeat seventy, body temperature and DNA synchronisation in progress.’ He looked up, ‘Complete!’
Riaz twisted the weapon in his hands, seeing the illuminated digital ammunition counter flicker into life and set at eighty rounds. He smiled admiringly, looking up at the marine, ‘Is this my weapon now?’
The soldier grinned at his innocence, ‘Yes. No one else can fire it unless we reset in an emergency…only unit commanders can do that. Semi-automatics are pre-set to fire one or four bullets every time you press the trigger…they are high velocity rounds and do a lot of damage. There is also a safety measure…they will not fire at a live ally unless you press the trigger multiple times.’ He hesitated, ‘Aiming your weapon at an ally is a punishable offense!’
Sam stepped forward to reluctantly receive his different weapon, the barrel longer and the top of the rifle fitted with a sight. His voice shaking, he glanced at the marine, ‘What is the penalty?’
The marine looked solemn again, ‘Execution…your weapon has no such safeguard, so aim carefully!’ He glanced round the group, fearful expressions on their faces. Becoming comfortable they all now had their weapons, he started to turn away, ‘Good, pick up your ammunition and grenades and follow me to the drop ship!’ he turned and walked towards the doors at the far end, passing the discarded equipment of the Royal Marines and SAS.
Sam hurriedly picked up his grenades from the counter, slipping the ammunition clips into his belt pouches. The others following suit, then they jogged apprehensively after the leading Trevakian marine.
Chapter Nine: The seatbelt sign is ON
‘Your Time is Now!’ The Trevakian Captain walked slowly down the line of soldiers inspecting their uniforms and equipment. The green combats of the regular Trevakian army were sporadically placed amongst the combat uniforms issued by the stores for some of the reserve soldiers. Several blue uniforms stood out amongst the collection of soldiers, the non-essential staff of the Space Station now being deployed into infantry roles.
Captain Dugachard slowly turned at the end, her boots squealing on the metal grate floor of the drop ship, her lean five feet seven physique complimented by the combat uniform. She exhaled loudly, then raised her voice again, ‘Fasten yourselves in! I want no injuries on this ship. The Morgon’s are beginning to breach our lower Laser Shields so this may be a bumpy ride!’ She hesitated, grimacing, ‘They are also targeting our drop ships from the ground now as they approach the landing zones, so I want you all to be ready to bail out quickly when we land.’ She began walking along the lines of troops again, three deep on either side of him fastened into their seats, ‘If we are hit and have to crash land, then ensure you relax your bodies for impact, grip the seat in front of you and tense only if you are propelled forward. This will keep you alive.’ The captain smiled briefly at one of the male auxiliaries from the station, ‘Those of you at the front should bend double and place your head as near to your knees as possible, this offers some protection.’ She turned again, the squeal of her boots spreading though the passenger cabin, ‘If we land in enemy territory, we form a defensive shield around the ship and use controlled bursts to suppress any attacks.’ Her voice raised as she considered the lack of experience before her, ‘If the soldier next to you is wounded, it is their responsibility to withdraw from a fire fight. Do NOT, I repeat, NOT attempt to assist a fallen soldier by your side during battle, this removes a fit soldier from battle and exposes the unit to being overwhelmed, understand?’
The uniformed response of voices echoed across the interior walls of the transport craft, ‘Yes Sir!’ The captain lowered herself slowly into the one remaining seat at the end, overlooking the soldiers, her hand buckling the straps across her body from the chair. Reaching to her ear, she spoke into the internal microphone in her neck, ‘Drop Ship 5 ready to depart!’
Muffled clanking could be heard, then a murmur as the engines engaged on pulse. The ship dropped suddenly, numerous screams coming from the startled soldiers as the small craft fell from the space station dock.
Riaz gulped as he felt the small craft bounce in the turbulence within the Laser Shield cone to the atmosphere, the small vessel gaining speed as it thrust down towards the planet. Debra Hardie closed her eyes, the rush of adrenalin almost overpowering her emotions as the ship accelerated further. The radio communications from the cockpit of the transport burst across the cabin, the pilot’s voice excited, ‘Shield weakened below, accelerating to maximum speed. Morgon fighters active below us, chasing previous transport!’
The craft rocked as the energy from an explosion outside engulfed the craft, the radio burbling, ‘Indirect fire! Morgon craft approaching to intercept, deploying flares!’
Sam grasped his hands together tightly, the terror rising within him as the craft bucked and rocked again, the ship approaching the outer limits of the atmosphere. The radio broke across the cabin again, ‘Angle of entry to atmosphere steep, expect turbulence! Morgon craft in pursuit along Shield! Enemy craft gaining, counter measures deployed!’ The pilot’s voice was rising more, his adrenalin and excitement high as he started to jostle the controls.
Sam felt the chilled sweat run down the outside of his chest, the liquid seeming cold against his skin as the follicles prickled in his fear. His muscles tensed hard, the strain pushi
ng pain through his body as the adrenalin pulsed. The ship bucked again as a nearby explosion rocked the craft, the small vessel buffeted by the blast wave.
‘Brace for atmosphere!’ The pilot was now shouting, the moans of fear from the rear occupants filling the cabin. The ship bucked and started shaking as it entered the atmosphere ring around the planet. The screeching of metal becoming deafening in the small rear passenger compartment. ‘Morgon Vessel closing! Maximum velocity achieved! Ship sustaining damage on entry!’
Riaz swallowed hard, the nausea rising within him as he listened. The craft was shaking and buffeting furiously, items falling from the overhead racks and load moaning from the soldiers, their eyes clamped shut. The pilot was almost screaming, ‘Starboard engine burnout! Atmosphere breakthrough in 5-4-3-2-1! Break!’
The shaking stopped abruptly, the craft buffeting as it entered the atmosphere, the lowering temperature causing the craft to contract rapidly, the metal screeching in response. The pilot’s voice shook the cabin again, ‘Morgon fighter in pursuit! Ground fire commencing! Hold On!’
The craft spun as the pilot twisted his controls, the Morgon fighter overshooting into the flak range below as the pilot flipped the small craft upwards momentarily. ‘Stall! Stall!’ The craft bounced on turbulence and then plummeted towards the planet, the screams of terror rising amongst the passengers. ‘Morgon vessel hit, going down! Flak heavy!’ The craft shook again as the explosions around it bounced it around. ‘Losing altitude…using velocity to purge and restart remaining engine!’
Tears flowed down Debra’s face as she heard the terror in the pilot’s voice, the drop ship falling towards the planet out of control. ‘Engine burst one….FIRE!’ The small vessel seemed to jolt, then continued falling, beginning to spin. ‘Engine burst two…FIRE!’ The craft seemed to cough, then spun further, the pilot struggling with the controls as the planet’s surface filled his forward screen.
The Last Marine in the Galaxy (Galaxies Collide Book 1) Page 9