by Jay Allan
Mondragon nodded. “Thank you again, Admiral Garret. I cannot properly express how much your confidence means to me.”
Garret nodded and forced a smile. “Then you best go get ready. I’d like you to leave in 12 hours.”
Mondragon stood up abruptly. “Yes, sir!”
Garret rose as well and extended his hand. “Good luck, Francisco. I will have orders out to the ships within the hour, and they will be assembled for you by 2200 fleet time.”
“Thank you, sir.” He shook Garret’s hand and walked quickly through the door.
Garret watched him leave, the false smile fading from his lips. He knew Mondragon would face all kinds of dangers on the way to Sol, if he made it at all. But Garret had to try to make contact with someone – the high command on Earth, Roderick Vance, anyone. He had to know what was going on.
Garret wondered if Mondragon would have been so excited if he knew his beloved admiral didn’t think he had more than a 50% chance of reaching Sol and coming back alive. For the thousandth time, Augustus Garret sighed, wondering if any of his ambitious officers realized that the top command was nothing but a curse. The glory was false, a glittering prize that turned to dust in one’s hands, and the burden of supreme leadership sapped the soul of anyone who wielded it, leaving nothing but the dried out husk of a man and a uniform covered in pointless medals.
Chapter 17
Cargo Hold
MCS Sand Devil
Just Off Asteroid 175405
Sol System
“I want everyone to be extremely careful. No mistakes.” Cain stood on the edge of Sand Devil’s depressurized cargo hold, gripping a handhold and looking though the open hatch into space. “This is dangerous, and none of us have been trained for it.”
He was about to lead his small force out of the Martian vessel, through 500 meters of open space to the asteroid’s surface. It was a bold plan. Some would call it crazy, but Cain’s companions were the cream of the elite, and they would have jumped into the sun if he’d ordered it.
Cain had fought once before on an asteroid, though it had been substantially larger than the one looming beneath him now, and he’d gotten there through far more conventional means. He’d been a private then, and he’d only had to follow orders. Now, he was in charge.
“When you push off, you’ve got to pay attention. If your direction is bad, you’re screwed. There’s no way we can get to you if you’re off-target. You’ll end up in deep space.” Cain stared out at the looming bulk of the asteroid. “And don’t push off too hard. This thing’s got minimal gravity to worry about, but you can give yourself a hell of a velocity off the ship with the macros in your legs.” He pointed out the hatch toward the asteroid. “And that thing’s almost solid iron.”
The ten Marines with him were the best of the Corps, veterans of dozens of landings and battles. But it was still carelessness that got Marines killed, even experienced ones. Cain didn’t really expect any of them to come back from this mission, but if they were going to expend their lives, he wanted it to be chasing down Gavin Stark, not smashing into an asteroid or launching themselves on a slow tour of the solar system.
“All this takes is true aim and a gentle push off.” Cain had never operated in space himself, though he’d commanded a Seal team once, and he’d watched them maneuver around the outside of a space station. But Seals had specialized training and suits designed for work in space. The Marine armor could sustain life in the frigid vacuum, but it lacked the positioning jets of the Seal equipment.
Captain Jennings had brought Sand Devil around the opposite side of the asteroid from Stark’s base. The small transport ship didn’t have the armament to blast the better-base, and Cain had directed him to approach without coming near the facility. He suspected Stark had enough scanners deployed to pick them up, but he was betting the base itself was lightly armed, with no weapons deployed on the opposite end of the asteroid. It wouldn’t take much to destroy the fragile Torch, and Cain wasn’t about to chance a direct move on the base itself.
“I’ll go first.” Cain’s voice was clear, emotionless. “I want one of you to follow every 30 seconds.” He looked around at the cluster of armored Marines standing in the bay, holding on to whatever they could. “I mean 30 full seconds. One of you at a time. Stay calm, and think through everything before you make a move. Understood?”
He got a series of acknowledgements over the com. He nodded once and turned away from his people, looking back out into space. He leaned forward, positioning his feet on the edge of the cargo bay hatch and took a last look ahead, toward the looming bulk of asteroid 175405. He could feel his heart pounding in his ears and the sweat pouring down his neck and covering his hands.
Cain had a reputation for fearlessness, but that was all nonsense. He knew fear very well, and that was just what he was feeling. There was something about space, the endless emptiness waiting to swallow something as small and insignificant as a man. He tried to focus, but images filled his mind, him floating helplessly in the endless blackness, without hope of rescue, arguing with Hector, trying to convince the AI to administer a suicide dose of tranquilizers. He gritted his teeth and forced everything out of his mind. Everything but the task at hand.
He took a deep breath and pushed off gently. He moved slowly, weightlessly through the blackness. He could see the rocky surface ahead, becoming larger as he drew closer. His direction was true; he was going to hit the asteroid. If he hadn’t pushed off too hard he would be OK.
It felt like he’d been floating forever, drifting steadily closer but never reaching his destination. He could see the surface closely now, the fine dust covering its iron bulk, the small pebbles strewn across the surface. Then it was upon him. He reached out to cushion the impact. He felt a jarring up his arm, and he bounced off the surface, rising about five meters before coming down again slowly and landing on the gray, dust-covered rock.
He stood up slowly, carefully, looking back up to the ship, no more than a small dot to him now. He knew he was OK, but he checked all his readouts anyway. “I’m down without incident.”
“Got you, Erik.” It was Teller’s voice, and Cain could hear the relief. “Breyer’s coming down now.” They had agreed that Cain would lead the group down, and Teller would bring up the rear.
Cain looked up, trying to spot Breyer, but he didn’t see anything. A man in a charcoal gray suit of armor was hard to spot against the blackness of space. “Hector, activate display.”
The AI responded immediately, and the familiar shimmering blue image was projected against the inside of Cain’s visor. His eyes went to a small icon, halfway from the ship to the surface. It looked like Breyer was on target to land about half a klick from Cain’s position.
He watched as the graphic moved slowly toward the asteroid. Finally, his com unit crackled to life.
“Breyer here. Down without incident.”
Cain felt himself exhale loudly. His people could do this. He was starting to believe they could all make it down.
“What the hell is going on here?” Stark was raging, losing control of the fierce temper that was one of his only true emotions.
“Sir, we had a brief contact when your ship approached, but it vanished before we could get any solid data. Now, it appears that an unidentified vessel is positioned on the far side of the asteroid.” The officer’s voice was shaky. Delivering bad news to Stark was never pleasant, but it was downright dangerous when it smacked of any level of incompetence.
“Destroy the ship.” Stark was nearly apoplectic with anger. “Now!”
“Sir, it is outside of the firing arc of our defensive laser batteries.”
Stark’s fists were clenched tightly. He’d rushed the completion of this base. It had been one of the final projects, and he’d been nearing the end of his stolen resources. The base’s primary defense was supposed to be secrecy not weapons, yet here he was with some kind of vessel less than a kilometer away.
“Get me the data fro
m the remote scanners.” Stark sat down hard, punching at the keys of his workstation like he was trying to put his fingers through the keyboard. He took one look at the image, and he felt a new wave of anger and frustration. “That is a Martian Torch.” His words were dripping with rage. “It is a Martian Intelligence spy vessel.” He looked around the small control center. “What is it doing right outside my base?” His voice was menace itself.
There was no answer. The terrified staff just sat quietly, trying not to make eye contact. “I want a platoon with heavy rocket launchers on the surface immediately. That ship is close enough to hit from the ground, and I want it destroyed!”
“Yes, sir.” The tactical officer punched a series of keys, sending an alert to the Shadow Legion barracks. He turned back toward Stark and said nervously, “The duty platoon is scrambling now, sir.”
“What is that ship doing?” Stark whispered to himself. “How the hell did they follow me here?”
“I’m glad to see you down here in one piece.” Cain walked up to Teller and slapped his armored hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Everybody made it.” It had taken about half an hour to get them all landed and gathered together. The Marines had come down over a 2 kilometer area, but now they were organized and ready to move out. No one had been injured, and all their equipment was undamaged. It was the best Cain could have hoped for.
“That’s a ride I hope I never have to take again.” Teller turned and looked back at the rest of the Marines. “So, let’s go do this. What do you say?”
Cain nodded, a greatly exaggerated gesture in a fighting suit. “All of you remember, your leg servos have enough power to launch you at escape velocity off this rock. And even if you jump a little off the ground, it will take forever for you to come back down. So stay low and shuffle along.”
There was a chorus of yessirs on the com. Cain nodded again and started walking cautiously over the hard, dusty surface. It was time to go kill Gavin Stark.
They walked along in single file, following their pre-programmed displays toward the end of the asteroid that housed Stark’s base. They moved slowly, carefully, but they still had a few minor issues. Breyer tripped over a small rock and inadvertently leapt into the air. It took half a minute for the asteroid’s miniscule gravity to bring him back down to the surface. If he’d have been in a combat situation, he’d have been shot 50 times before he landed.
They’d gone about 4 kilometers when Cain stopped dead. “Bogies up ahead.” He crouched down low, sliding over to take cover behind a large rock outcropping. “Spread out. Get some cover, all of you.”
The unit sprang into action, the veterans moving swiftly into position to deal with the approaching threat. It was only a few seconds before they were ready, eleven Marines crouched behind good cover and ready for whatever was approaching.
Cain stared at the monitor. He wasn’t sure if the enemy soldiers had spotted him yet, but he knew it was only a matter of time. They were carrying several large items, but he couldn’t make out what they were.
“Rocket launchers.” Hector’s voice interrupted Cain’s concentration. “H-104 heavy rocket launchers. Almost useless in ground combat in this environment. Most likely intended to target the Sand Devil.”
Of course, Cain thought. Stark’s people detected the ship, but they didn’t have any weapons they could bring to bear on the opposite end of the asteroid. But the ship was close enough for ground troops to hit with rockets. That also explained why they didn’t seem aware his people were there. They were focused on the ship, and they’d neglected to scan the surface carefully.
It was an advantage, but a fleeting one. The enemy could detect his people at any second. He didn’t have proof they were hostiles, but it seemed inconceivable to him they weren’t. “Fire,” he yelled into the com, taking aim with his rifle and pulling the trigger.
“Sir, the surface team is reporting they have been engaged by unidentified soldiers.”
Stark’s head snapped around. Fuck, he thought. That ship somehow landed a ground force. “They are to eradicate the invaders. At once.” He felt the frustration almost overcoming him. His final plan was about to unfold, and in 72 hours there would be nothing on Earth but radioactive ruins and stunned, defenseless refugees. And 300,000 of his Shadow Legion soldiers, ready to establish his control over every centimeter of the globe. He couldn’t allow anything to interfere. Not now.
“Sound the alarm. All forces are to deploy to repel the invaders.”
“Yes, sir.” The officer pulled a lever, and the klaxons started sounding.
Stark’s mind was racing, trying to analyze the situation. How did they find him? No, he thought, that’s not important now. It didn’t matter anymore. His base had been compromised. But had the Torch been able to get word back to anyone? Mars was in an uproar, too busy dealing with the consequences of his attack, and his based was surrounded by a jamming field. Still, he needed three more days, and that was a long time if his secrecy was at risk.
“Send another platoon to the surface. And I want those rocket launchers firing. That ship must be destroyed at once.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And get me video feed from the ground team. Immediately.” Stark was trying to restrain his anger, but the rage was obvious in his voice.
“Done, sir.”
Stark stared at his workstation’s display, watching the scene on the surface. He glanced down at the notation below the picture. The relay was from the senior section leader. That meant the lieutenant and the platoon sergeant were already down. He could see his people were caught out in an open area, taking heavy fire from behind a line of large rock outcroppings. They were being cut down like a row of crops.
He stared at the image, trying to get a good look at the troopers firing at his men. They were well hidden, but finally he got a glimpse, recognizing the armor immediately. The attackers were Marines. What the hell were Alliance Marines doing on his asteroid?
Cain was firing his assault rifle, picking off the enemy soldiers in bunches of 2 or 3. His people had caught Stark’s soldiers on a large open stretch of rock, and they were able to gun them down from the relative cover of a line of boulders and outcroppings. It looked like the enemy was platoon strength, but Cain’s people had taken half of them down in the initial exchange, and they hadn’t lost anyone yet.
He saw a few of the enemy troopers trying to get around the flank, to a rugged area where they would have some cover. “To the right,” he said into the com, as he turned his rifle and picked off two of the enemy who had almost made it into cover. “Finish them off.”
Up and down the line, his men fired on full auto, wiping out the last of the enemy platoon. “Cease fire.” Cain stared out around the rock, looking cautiously over the field. “I think we got them all.” He glanced up at his display, and he felt sick. There were eleven small icons displayed, and one of them was flashing red. “Hardy?” In his gut, he knew the lieutenant was dead, but part of him held out hope anyway. “Lieutenant Hardy, report.”
Nothing. “James, go check out Hardy.” Teller was closer to the stricken lieutenant.
Cain turned back, looking out over the battlefield, now strewn with enemy bodies. He’d never expected to maintain any level of surprise on the operation, but he hadn’t been ready for a firefight on the surface either.
“Hardy’s dead.” It was Teller’s voice. “He caught a shot in the head. Must have looked out too far trying to line up a shot.”
Lieutenant Hardy had over ten years of combat experience, and his death was a reminder that even veterans could be careless. And one instant of poor judgment, one moment of weakened vigilance, was all it took to get a Marine killed.
“Alright, guys. Let’s stay focused.” Cain knew he didn’t have to remind his veterans, but he did it anyway. The mission came first. It always did.
“Wraith is to launch at once and destroy the enemy vessel.” His stealth ships were lightly armed and armored, not really designed for comba
t. But neither was the Martian Torch. And Stark was fairly certain the enemy vessel had been damaged in the exchange at Mars.
The Martian ship had begun to move away from the asteroid, leaving the Marines on the surface behind. It was a cold, calculated move, one more suited to him than his often overly sentimental enemies. It reminded him of Erik Cain, though he put that thought out of his mind. Cain would be on Columbia, fighting against the Shadow Legion army there, not prowling around the Sol system.
“And I want Spectre prepared to launch on short notice.” He’d planned to direct the final phase of the Earth campaign from the base, but if his location was compromised he could easily be attacked before it was completed. He was still trying to analyze the entire sequence of events, to make the soundest choice possible. But if he decided to abandon the base, he wanted his ship ready to go.
“Yes, sir.” The officer turned and relayed to order. “Sir, maintenance reports that Spectre is under repair. Her rear stabilizers were loose, sir, and her dampening field had a slight leak.” He looked back at the readout. “Engineering says the repairs will be complete in less than an hour.”
His head spun around. “Tell them minutes count.”
We were trailing debris, he thought angrily. Of course! That’s how they followed me here. If Wraith destroyed the enemy vessel before it could get a message back to Mars, perhaps the base location would stay secret. But he couldn’t be sure, and it was too close to the endgame to start taking unnecessary chances.
He knew what he had to do. Wraith would destroy the enemy vessel before it could escape the base’s jamming field and get a message back to Mars. And his people would wipe out the Marines on the surface. But he still wasn’t going to take any needless risks. As soon as Spectre’s repairs were finished, he’d take off in the stealth ship and direct the rest of the struggle for Earth from there. It wasn’t ideal, but it was better than ending up stuck on the base if the enemy knew he was there.