Hell Fighters from Earth

by William C. Seigler

  “If the docking system is not damaged,” added the skipper.

  “We’ll see in a minute,” said Fitz.

  “It’s still docked with a pretty good chunk of that Reptilian spacecraft,” said Chief. He saw on short range a jagged piece, almost as large as the alien craft, still attached.

  The CO was holding his temple again. “Okay, we’ll take care of it. Chief, Smith you’re going to have to get back in your suits. The alien can’t undock from the piece of debris, and the hull is compromised. You’re going to have to go over there and use the manual override to disconnect.”

  “Manual override, it’s got one?” asked Smith.

  “Yeah, it’s something they added because they did not have full confidence in our technology,” added Fitz.

  Denver and Chief headed back to the airlock and busied themselves sorting out their discarded suits. “Chief, these things are already picking up a funny smell.”

  “That’s just what the aliens say.” They carefully checked each other out, first one looking for the obvious than the other. “Turn around.”

  Soon they were ready to go. A slight bump told them that they were about to dock, but then they bumped it again. “Uh oh.”

  “Uh oh. What do you mean, uh oh?” asked Denver.

  “The skipper must be having trouble docking.”

  “Commander, it won’t hard dock.”

  “Try again.”

  “Yes sir, but even if I hit it just right, it may get stuck on us and make us an easy target.”

  “One more time.” He did, and it stuck. Over the radio, “Okay guys, get in there, and find a nice place for our little present.”

  “We better hurry,” said Chief. “Debris and missiles are whipping around the planet, and we don’t want to be here.”

  “Right. I have one question though.”

  “Hey careful, don’t crush me with it.”

  “Sorry, you said we don’t have much time.”

  “What’s your question?”

  “Won’t the debris pretty much ruin the lizard carrier?” queried Denver.

  Fitz had been listening. The debris field was sweeping around the planet, and even if there was something left of the carrier, it would probably be destroyed. Then why were they doing it?

  Denver continued. “Even if it doesn’t destroy the carrier, so much flack will be in orbit, they won’t be able to get to it.”

  “In other words, they might not be able to take the bait,” interrupted Fitz.

  “How much longer?” It was du Bois. “We are seriously running out of time.”

  “Here, this looks like a good spot. Even if they get the ship back, they might not find our little surprise. Secure it with these, I’ll get rid of the chunk of the carrier,” said Chief. With that, he floated quickly away.

  Denver was getting used to the suit, even though the gloves were bulky. Soon he would have the hang of it. Something moved out of the corner of his eye. He quickly turned. It was a spacesuit like the ones he saw earlier during the fight, attacking the ship.

  “Uh oh.” He turned and dodged a hastily swung piece of pipe. “Chief, I got company!”

  The second swing was better placed and his nose impacted the inside of the face shield. Blood splattered across the inside of his helmet and his face, and he flew across the room. He was not sure how much abuse the suit could take.

  The lizard’s suit was dark and bulky. He could see its snout and flat, expressionless eyes. He got his feet under himself and launched at the lizard catching the makeshift weapon, which swung them both around spinning and crashing into things.

  Chief appeared at the door and quickly caught the lizard from behind with a makeshift club. It seemed to stun him for a moment long enough for Smith to come around with the pipe and catch him square in the helmet. The effort sent them both spinning once again.

  The lizard was holding a crack in his helmet with one hand and waving his free arm over his head. Chief took his container of sealant and used it to secure the crack. He then taped the lizard’s arms to his side.

  In spite of the blood, Denver was able to secure the nuke. Together they led the lizard back toward the airlock. Suddenly the field generator came on and they all dropped to the floor.

  Waves of nausea swept through them as the field generator tried to make up for the unusual arrangement. They dragged themselves to their feet and did the same for the prisoner.

  “Chief, you’ve got to get that thing off the ship. It’s messing with the field. Is the nuke ready to go?” demanded du Bois.

  “Yes it is,” said Smith. “Don’t touch it off just yet.” He grinned.

  “Come on Smith! Pull your arm inside and use the cloth in the pocket to clean up your visor.”

  He did and managed to smear blood all over the inside of the visor. Smith pushed the prisoner on toward the airlock. Chief found the manual controls and went through the sequence to jettison the chunk of the carrier holding them.

  “Skipper, how much time do we have?” asked Chief.

  “We don’t. I’m trying to get over the Pole and out of range of the worst of it, but that will not help us for long. Get back up here.”

  Chief went back to the nuke first. “I’ve got to double check this thing. No offense intended.”

  “None taken,” responded Smith over the radio.

  “Looks good. Let’s go.”

  They bounded for the airlock and started to remove their suits until the CO’s voice stopped them. “Stay suited up, in case things don’t go the way I want them to.”

  They were off. The generator made standing in one spot difficult as it adjusted to the fact that it was dragging another ship. “Okay, drop it,” commanded Fitz. Denver half expected the thing not to come off, but amazingly it did.

  “Get back up here,” commanded Fitz.

  They dropped their suits to the floor again. “What about the prisoner?” asked Chief.

  “What the devil are you talking about?” demanded Fitz.

  Chief and Denver looked at each other then at the prisoner. “Put him in the airlock and get one of your men down here to stand guard.”

  “Right.”

  “I asked, what are you talking about?” demanded Fitz again, this time he let out his anger and frustration. If they were destroyed now after it was his idea to go back out, he would get the blame. He knew it.

  “Sir,” answered Chief as he bolted for the flight deck, “we managed to capture one of the Reptilians alive. It’s locked in the airlock and Smith is putting one of his men to guard it.”

  “A prisoner! How? Just get up here and make sure that thing is secured.”

  “Done. Smith, don’t let that thing loose in here.”

  Denver had already plugged into the intercom. “Gotcha’ Chief. Tyron, I need you down here to the airlock now.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I got a lizard taped up and locked in the airlock. I want you to stand guard. Now hurry!”

  The field generator continued to have trouble compensating for the ship they were dragging, but soon Tyron came running and staggering down to the airlock. He was carrying Denver’s improvised weapon.

  “Better not use that thing in here if you can help it.”

  His gunner stared through the porthole at the alien-lizard-man in its spacesuit. “Wow man, how’d you capture that thing?” He turned to look at Denver’s bloodied face.

  “Oh, that’s how. You shouldn’t lead with your big mouth you know.”

  “Funny. If it tries to get out, kill it. I’d better see if I can get you a pistol.” Denver took off for the flight deck.

  While Denver was setting guard, Chief was read into the current situation. “Sir,” began the skipper, “at this speed the Grey’s ship will drift toward the carrier. There is no way we
can get there before coming into firing range from the approaching fleet. Sir? Sir, can you hear me?”

  Fitz ripped the headband off and grabbed his head. The aliens were going crazy. “Skipper, how much time do we have before…?”

  “Sir, we don’t. We have to release the Grey’s ship now. The Reptilians are determined to get it back. If the nuke fails to blow…”

  “Sir,” spoke up Chief, “I double checked Smith’s work. All you have to do is lift the two safety covers, and both of you push the buttons. Besides, it’s booby-trapped. If they try to move it, boom.”

  “Will the blast be enough to get the carrier?” asked Fitz.

  “I don’t know sir, but we are going fast enough that the ship should drift into it if they don’t get to it first.”

  “Sir,” interrupted Denver, “the Reptilian ships are getting blasted by their own shrapnel. That’s the good news. The bad news is that’s not slowing them down.”

  The FO spoke up. “Sir, I’ve fed in a course that will give us the best chance of avoiding the debris fields.”

  “Okay, drop that thing and get us out of here.”

  He did, then swung over the planet, and shot out the other side. They were safe from being fired on now, but not safe from running into a tiny piece of shrapnel which would act like a bomb if they hit any of them at these speeds.

  Once clear of the debris field, the skipper slapped his copilot on the shoulder. “Good work. It appears that your calculations were right on the money.”

  “Thanks boss.” Denver noticed how much the FO was sweating. He was glad he had not known how bad the danger was.

  They picked up speed and angled for an intercept with the transporter. “Chief, how close are they to the Grey’s ship?”

  “The lead ship is less than 500 kilometers away.”

  “Put it on my screen.”

  Denver switched to the gunners’ channel. “Hey Willy, we’re about to touch off an atomic bomb. You might have a better view than you want. I don’t know for sure, but it might be better to look away.”

  “Thanks for the head’s up. I can’t really see anything but stars out here now.”

  Chief spoke up. “The carrier has been hit, starting to outgas, and their relief fleet is getting pounded.”

  “I guess they’ll have to look at that tactic again. Range to target?” asked Fitz.

  “One hundred kilometers.”

  “Okay, stand by. We’ll fire when the lead ship comes alongside.” He hesitated for several minutes. “Skipper, up with your safety, and in 5-4-3-2-1-fire.”

  It was strange that nothing appeared to happen for a few moments. Denver thought something might have gone wrong or that they should fire it again.

  The topside gunner came on the intercom. “Something just happened.”

  “Something,” replied Denver, “what kind of something?”

  “There was a big flash, back in the system.”

  “Okay, stand by.” The rest of the men on the flight deck could not hear the report. They could only hear Denver talking into the mic. “Topside reports a bright flash. It must have worked.”

  Chief spoke up. “Must have worked is an understatement. The first ship is no longer on the screen. There is something left of the second and third, but not much. Can’t say about the last.”

  “Skipper, take us home. Now I want to get a look at that prisoner.” He motioned to Denver, and together they headed for the airlock.

  Tyron and the Reptilian were just staring at each other. It did not move, like a lizard or snake in a zoo. It made his skin crawl. How could it be sentient?

  “You’d better take this pistol. Shoot that thing at him and you’ll take out a chunk of the ship,” offered Fitz.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Commander, do you think the Grey could get anything from him?” asked Smith.

  “Maybe, but I’m not going to suggest it.”

  Denver felt a strange tingling in his skull. He turned around, and the Grey was behind them. “Uh, sir, that won’t be necessary.”

  Fitz turned then put on his headband. “Are you well? You are out of your station.”

  He waited a moment and spoke to Denver. “He wants you to put on your headband.” Denver fished it out of his flight suit and put it on.

  “One of The People follows your adventures. You have captured one of the Reptilians as you call them?”

  “Yes, we have,” replied Fitz aloud. He saw Denver’s eyes open wide. Then without speaking, “Denver, can you hear me?”

  “Yes, I can. I didn’t know these things would work for us as well,” he said silently mouthing the words.

  “Usually, they don’t. I don’t know why.”

  “Is it because you both are in contact with one of The People?” suggested the little alien.

  “Possibly,” replied Fitz.

  “May one see what you have captured?” the alien continued.

  “Of course.” The three men moved out of the way, and the alien moved toward the airlock. This appeared to make the Reptilian agitated. He began to pace, then for some inexplicable reason he fell over on his back with one leg slightly raised up in the air.

  “What the devil was that all about?” asked Denver of no one in particular.

  Fitz’s com beeped. “Yes?”

  “Sir, you might want to see this,” said du Bois.

  “On my way.” He removed his headband and spoke to Denver. “Keep close guard on your thoughts; they can be dangerous.”

  On the flight deck, he checked the long range monitor. The shrapnel had damaged the carrier and the rescue fleet, but the blast had completely destroyed the first ship and most of the carrier, creating more shrapnel. The others were extensively damaged and burned as long as there was a convenient source of oxygen. Debris from the relief fleet had further damaged what was left of the carrier.

  The extent of the damage was overwhelming. It might be a long time before anything could fly near this planet, too much debris flying around in orbit and at the libration points.

  “How long before they pick us up?”

  “About fifteen minutes.”

  * * * *

  “Are you getting anything from the lizard?” queried Denver of the gray alien.

  “Lizard?”

  “The prisoner, are you receiving anything from the prisoner?”

  “Images and primitive emotions, nothing one can understand. When he laid down even that stopped.”

  “Sensory overload? Too much happening to him, he just plays dead or something. This I’ll be happy to leave to the experts.”

  “One is in contact with the ship. We must prepare to board.” He turned away and bobbing along headed for his quarters. Denver and Tyron just looked at each other.

  “Let me know if that thing gets up before we turn it over to someone else.”

  “Yeah right. Hey Denver, we really kicked ass, didn’t we?”

  “You mighty right.”

  * * * *

  Aboard the transport craft, Fitz had reported to his superior. “What do you mean a failure, Admiral?”

  Admiral La Pierre was a portly man in his sixties. He listened as Fitz wound down.

  “Sir, we rescued the aliens alive, destroyed the Grey’s ship, we destroyed that new spaceship carrier they were building, and destroyed several of their vessels, and brought you a living prisoner.” He could not go on.

  “I understand your incredulity and I do sympathize, but the boys over at Intel have it from the Greys. They have evidence that the Reptilians got the main component of the drive system out before you even got there.

  “The next time we face them, they may have the same technology we have. I’m afraid your mission was a failure.”

  Chapter 17: First Major Action

  Denver was strapped in th
e troop lander, which was oriented in such a way that when it launches it feels like forward acceleration. Two squads are in each lander. They are part of the lead element in the first attack to take back a friendly world taken by the lizards.

  This will be the first test of the human legion, their organization, their leaders, and the alliance. Intel does not think the aliens have completed digging in, and this is as far from their traditional worlds as they have gotten. In theory, they were not sticking their necks out too much.

  Denver knew what every combat soldier knows; his neck is always stuck out. If this attack was successful and they succeeded in holding the world, he would be rotated out for R&R.

  If…. if, if, if, always if. If he had not gotten on the wrong side of what passed for law, if he had not escaped, if he had not decided to cross between the stars to fight an enemy who may, or may not, be a threat to Earth, he wouldn’t be sitting here strapped into this combat assault landing craft. Nonetheless, here he was, and it was too late to back out now.

  Argentina was back with her medical unit. The field hospitals would burn in through the atmosphere soon. That was part of the deal. People who before had no one, now had the legion, and the legion takes care of its own. She had turned eighteen during training and no longer looked like a lost waif. She was confident in herself and her craft as a medic.

  The ship shook, and he was back in the present. He could see his squad mates lined up like ducks in a row. There were Willy, Chuy, Tyron, and Habib; guys he knew he could trust. He was a team leader in the third squad.

  He was wearing light body armor, and over it was a pressure suit, just in case. The super-combat suits were not ready. They were riding down behind an almost unbelievable wall of firepower, but it was as it had always been before a fight. The warrior knows and now he knew.

  The platoon sergeant spoke into his lip mic, “Turn on your combat information system.” Denver obeyed and instantly the picture of the combat situation hung in space before him. He could switch between the general situation, the battalion situation, and his squad. Now the fog of battle should be pushed back, if things worked as planned, which he knew almost never happens.

  He could see the missiles coming up from the surface. The computers in the Combat Landing Assault Craft were already calculating possible incoming and starting to juke right, left, up and down. The ground attack aircraft were just kissing the top of the atmosphere as they came around the planet. You could not see where the missiles came from just yet. They were already launching their anti-missile ordnance.