Hell Fighters from Earth

by William C. Seigler

  “How do you hold it, and how does it reload?”

  “Reload?”

  “Oh boy.”

  “Friend human not of the Separatists, this is the first weapon designed by The People in almost three thousand years, our years which are only slightly longer than yours.”

  “Oh. Well, it’s bound to have some bugs.”

  “Bugs?”

  “Problems that need to be worked out. It’s always that way with something new.”

  “How can that be? You are always making war?”

  “So it would seem.” He sensed the alien was tired.

  “I tell you what; let me take it with me. I’ll see what I can do. Why don’t you get some rest?”

  “Yes, friend.”

  With that, he left. As he walked down the hall, he knew there were some serious problems with this mission. For that matter what was the mission, exactly.

  * * * *

  There was him and his guys, the alien, the flight crew, and Fitz. This was not a unified command. Fitz is okay and speaks to ET, but what combat experience does he have in space?

  He found the crew chief. “Hello Chief, you got a minute?”

  The crew chief did not look him in the eyes but instead looked at the headband he wore. It took a moment for it to register. “Oh, this. I had tea, of a sort, with him.” He slid it off and put it into a breast pocket.

  “Do tell. We’ve been here for years, and none of us ever got invited to tea.”

  Smith looked sheepishly at the deck. “He had some things on his mind.”

  “Yeah. What you got there?” asked Chief.

  “A very rough prototype of some sort of weapon, I think. He thought so anyway.”

  “How does it work?”

  “Well, it develops a wave field somewhat like they use to power their craft and I guess this one as well. That is right, isn’t it? You don’t use rockets anymore do you?”

  “No, we adapted their technology to our spacecraft. Okay, so what do you do with this?”

  “Well, the round sits here and somehow is propelled down the shaft. He imagines it exploding on contact. Sort of a grenade launcher I guess.”

  “Grenade launcher?”

  Great, not only do I not have a common reference with the alien, I do not even have one with these humans.

  “Yeah, you shoot this thing from the shoulder, and it arcs over. When it hits something, it explodes.”

  “How do you put the round in?”

  “That’s what I asked him.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He didn’t, he was tired and needed to rest. So I have this thing and need to see if you and I can figure what to do with it.”

  “How do you plan to hold it?” asked Chief.

  “Can you affix it to one of the maintenance suits?”

  “Maybe. I can try. How do you load it?”

  “I don’t think he has had much experience at designing weapons.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah. So unless you happen to have some infantry weapons on board…”

  “No, afraid not. I don’t think they thought this thing out too well.”

  “Me neither. On the one hand, we are to get in take a look and get out. Then on the other, what’s the alien for unless we are supposed to get either the crew or the ship back. And by the way, how are we to plant the nuke?” asked Smith.

  “Well, the flight crew and I think the nuke is for us.”

  “Ouch.”

  “We think this mission is a disaster going somewhere to happen.”

  “So, it’s not just me huh?” asked Smith.

  “And what’s with you; you trying to take over?”

  “Hey look, I was hauled out of my unit, told to grab my kit and get in the truck. When I got on board, we were given some slapped together gunnery practice computer simulator to work on. My people have busted their asses to be able to hit something, but your own simulation shows that this tub needs to move out of the way of missiles. So your flight crew got involved. We all want to survive don’t we?”

  “You better believe it.”

  “Look Chief, I’m just trying to stay alive. For this mission, I need everyone to stay alive if I’m going to stay alive. I am smart enough to know that your people separated themselves from the rest of humanity a long time ago and that fact has built a wall between the ship’s crew and the gunnery crew.

  “I also know this problem will have to be rectified at some point, but probably not by us. We just need to stay alive,” Denver continued.

  “Why don’t we get the flight crew in on this conversation?” suggested Chief.

  “Excellent idea.” With that, they headed to the flight deck.

  The FO was sitting on the flight deck looking over the flight manifest. “Sir,” began Chief, “you got a minute?”

  The FO looked up. “What can I do for you Chief?”

  “Where’s the skipper?”

  “Asleep, I hope. What you got there?”

  “A weapon the alien developed,” offered Denver.

  Yang looked at him annoyed. “Chief, what you got?”

  “Apparently, Corporal Smith had tea with the alien and the alien gave him this.” He handed it to the FO.

  “Well say something,” said Chief.

  Yang looked at Smith. “What is it?”

  “We would call it a grenade launcher. Only instead of using powder to launch it, they use a field generation device like the one that drives your ships. When the projectile hits something, it explodes.”

  “You people sure know your weapons. All you know is killing.”

  “Sir, if we all are going to stay alive, we are going to have to work together. Now, I don’t know what they teach you in school, but the rest of the human race has soldiered on as best it could while you were out here practicing being holier than thou.

  “I don’t know much about you yet, but we on this ship have got to learn to work together if we are going to survive. And we don’t have much time to do it.”

  “He’s right sir,” added Chief.

  “He’s right about one thing. We don’t know one another. We’ve been apart for too long,” answered Yang.

  Suddenly, there were faces on the flight deck’s forward viewport. The skipper spoke into his com. “What is going on in there?”

  “Sir, we are learning to work together,” said Yang.

  “Well, join us out here,” ordered du Bois.

  “Yes, sir. You heard the man. Let’s go,” Yang directed.

  The hangar was a smallish affair, not what Denver had hoped. He had hoped to see flying saucers. He would, at least, get a good look at the ship on which his life depended.

  All he had seen when they were hastily brought aboard looked like a cartoon flying saucer. A ramp had been set up to step up over the aft end. He could feel the hair stand up on his arms as they moved forward.

  This time they went down steep stairs to the deck from the front. While the ship had looked like a flying saucer, or as he thought it, an inarticulate brachiopod from the aft end, here it was totally different. From what would be the end where the two valves came together, a long passageway stuck out from the main ship for about 10 meters. A cross section of the passage would look football shaped. At the end was a small saucer shaped unit that housed the flight deck.

  Men were busy grafting rocket pods onto the belly of the spacecraft. These were for the big missiles fired from the flight deck.

  “Corporal, care to join us?” barked the skipper. Smith spun. Fitz was with him.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “These are your two side looking turrets, they can cover everything to the sides, but not the aft. There will be a top turret to cover that. The problem is, right under the ship we will be vulnerable,” said du Boi
s.

  “Your work in the sim has given us some ideas. I can just roll the ship as necessary to give us protection all the way round. You will not be in a turret. You will have a firing station in the aft end of the flight deck. If you’ll come over here, you can see where we have hooked up two sets of rocket pods.”

  “Do you think firing the missiles will interfere with the side guns’ sighting ability?” asked Denver.

  “Don’t know, and we don’t have time to experiment with it, but you will be able to survey the battle if there is one. Commander Fitzpatrick will have a console behind us, and he can watch the battle and communicate with either you or us,” answered du Bois.

  “Sir, where will the alien be during all this?” asked Chief.

  “An excellent question. I don’t know. Commander, what do you think?” questioned du Bois.

  “He doesn’t really need to be on the flight deck. In fact, that would only be a distraction for him and for us. I can communicate directly with him using the headband. I would like him to have access to all the ship’s sensors. He may be able to find out what happened to the missing ship. Chief can you set something up?” answered Fitz.

  “It shouldn’t be a problem. There is a data port near his … um…quarters. I can run a cable back there, or would you prefer me to set him up in the sim lab?” answered the crew chief.

  “No, he already got sick in the sim lab. His quarters should be better.”

  “When?”

  “Let me contact him and find a good time. Sooner is better so that he can integrate it into his conscious space.”

  “I’ll get it ready and will stand by to hear from you.”

  “The alien seems to be asleep,” said the Commander removing the band from his head. “I’ll try again later.

  “Corporal Smith has come up with some ideas that might help us survive an encounter. Can you implement them?” he said to the ship’s captain.

  “I don’t see why not, but I’m not sure if we can operate with the mask on.”

  “A good point, sir,” said Smith. “Commander, I recommend we go through one complete dress rehearsal before going in. There might be something we haven’t thought of.”

  “I’m sure there is. Maybe we should. It couldn’t hurt. How long should it take to get this finished?” he asked the skipper.

  He picked up his communicator. “I’ll check in and find out,” he spoke into the mic.

  “Sir, we need you up here.”

  “On my way. Commander, the head of the tech crew needs to see me topside. I’ll get back with an answer for you momentarily.” He headed off around the spacecraft.

  “Oh boy. Uh … Commander, might I have a word with you?”

  The chief spoke up, “If you don’t need me, I had better get started.”

  He turned to the FO. “Could I trouble you for a hand?”

  “Sure, sure.” They both hurried off.

  “Well Denver, you sure know how to empty a place out in a hurry.”

  “It’s a talent of mine.”

  “What you got on your mind?”

  “I was lying in my bunk, and the alien came in and well, invited me to tea.” He waited for whatever the reaction might be.

  “He did what?”

  “Tea.”

  “Give me the blow by blow replay.”

  “Like I said, I was lying in my bunk trying to get a little sleep. I was just about to doze off when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned to see the alien. I nearly jumped out of my skin.

  “Well, he mouthed the words, like I don’t know if I heard him or just felt it, but he said, ‘Come’.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Put on my flight suit and went with him. What else could I do?”

  “What else indeed. You could have gotten in touch with me.”

  “How?”

  “Good question. I’ll get you a communicator.”

  “He gave me a headband and started preparing tea. Good stuff. At first, we were not doing too well, but after a while, I was really getting on with him. We talked for a while. He seemed tired, so we called it a day. Then I left.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Yes, a couple of things. First he seems to have a problem staying focused on the here and now. His thoughts keep floating off.”

  “Yes, that’s to be expected in the beginning. A lot of it is what’s going on in your mind that distracts him. Some of it is probably the stress and the fact that there are hundreds of them on this ship. Partly, that is the way they are. All of us who interface with them have run into similar situations. Only they are trained.”

  “I guess he understands that we don’t have much time.”

  “Maybe, but why you?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe I represent another ‘tribe’ of humans as he puts it. He could just be curious.”

  “What’s the other thing?”

  “He gave me the prototype of an infantryman’s weapon.”

  “Weapon, they don’t make weapons.”

  “Well, they designed and built this thing. Apparently, someone on the ship is supplying the ammo. He seems quite proud of it.”

  “If these people have even gotten to the point where they can even conceive of weapons and their use, it will be a pivotal turning point. Where is it?”

  “I think Chief laid it down on the flight deck.”

  “Let’s go have a look.”

  “I hope I didn’t break any rules.”

  “No, not exactly, but we generally discourage such visits by all but a select few of our own people.”

  Once on the flight deck, Smith handed him the weapon. “Interesting,” mused Fitz as he looked over the strange device. “How are you supposed to hold it and reload it? You say it uses a primitive method of propulsion like their ships?”

  “That’s what I understand. As for reloading and holding for firing, I don’t think he worked it out that far. Chief thinks he might be able to do something with it.”

  Fitz replied, “I think we’ve already placed enough on Chief.”

  “Maybe so. However, I do think we need an infantryman’s weapon and pressure suits.”

  “Why, we are just going in and looking around.”

  “Well sir, then why did they send along a nuke? Is this a suicide mission?”

  “Definitely not.”

  “Commander, how are we supposed to place this thing?”

  “I guess that‘s up to us.”

  “I mean, how are we supposed to get outside and place it somewhere? We are lucky enough to have two maintenance suits on board, but that was not planned. They are just there.”

  “You want to go into the fight with a couple of guys already in these suits,” said Fitz.

  “What are we going to do if we depressurize? If we have a couple of guys suited up, they may be able to get the rest to safety, or at least, fly us out of trouble.”

  “The ship’s captain is totally against it.”

  “That’s another problem sir. There is a certain attitude problem among certain members of the crew.”

  “Toward you and your people?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “I don’t know that it can be helped.”

  “If we are going to survive out here, we need to get on the same team.”

  “You are correct, but the question is how.”

  “Training together in the sim is a start.”

  “Yes, that will help, but it’s only a start.”

  “Yes, but absolutely necessary for victory. However, right now I’m interested in surviving this mission.”

  “Me too,” added Fitz.

  “Okay sir, we jump into the system, they drop us off, and jump out, right?”

  “That’s right.”

  “If the enemy
is paying attention, we will be in trouble right away and unable to get away.”

  “That possibility exists.”

  “Is there any way we can be dropped off where we can’t be seen?” asked Smith.

  “I’ve been thinking about that. Let me show you what I’ve come up with.” He led Denver to the flight deck and turned on his computer.

  “Look at this. You see, we could get dropped off way out here and use the ship’s engine to fly into where we think the activity is occurring. If I was their commander, and one ship had already entered the system, that’s where I would be looking, outward.”

  “Yeah, I would too. What about out of the plane of the ecliptic?” asked Smith.

  “That’s a possibility, but they should have that covered as well. Now, look at this.” A diagram of the target star system floated above the table. It was a strange system with two large planets fairly close to the star. There appeared to be both an inner and an outer asteroid belt along with other comet-like objects in wildly elliptical orbits.

  “You see, what I’m thinking is, we jump into the system on the side of the star opposite our target. That should hide any trace of the jump. Then see here, these big planets can shield us as we come around the star. That should protect us for a while, and then we shoot out at the target as fast as we can and get to the rendezvous point here.”

  “Good idea, but we don’t know what we’ll be running into after we clear the planet. If they detect us and have any serious defense we could have trouble getting to the rendezvous point.”

  “That’s a possibility.” They both turned around. The skipper had walked in without either of them noticing. He walked over to the floating hologram.

  “Mind if I join you?”

  “Of course not, we were just looking over how to get in without creating too much suspicion,” said Fitz.

  “The weapons have been installed, and missile loading has commenced. Let’s be careful what buttons we push till we get dropped off.” He grinned.

  “I’ve never seen a corporal in on mission planning before, especially a uh …”

  “Groundling or whatever other derogatory term you folks have devised. You see Commander; you aren’t all that superior to us after all.”

  “What do you mean by that?” demanded the skipper.