The gateway was now active, and the fleet soared forward.
"You look scared," Cohen said to Jones.
"Yes, and you would be, too, if you had seen what we saw," Santos replied for him.
"Whatever is out there, you don't have to fear it any longer. We go in right this time," she replied.
Jones was still not convinced.
They passed into the gateway, and Jones could feel his stomach churn as he thought of the prospect of seeing the vast alien vessel once again. There was none of the excitement he felt the first time. He was asking himself why he was crazy enough to volunteer, but it was too late now. They passed through the gateway into the light of Kepler-186. The first thing they saw was part of the hull of one of the Bulwark’s support vessels still floating in space and with debris all around it. Other than the remnants of the battle, the space was completely peaceful.
"Scan the area with everything we have. I want to know if we're alone out here. And set a course for 186f," ordered Cohen.
Once again Jones watched as they banked, and the planet came into view. But there was no excitement this time. There was no hope; only a fear of what was coming next. He could feel sweat dripping down his face now, despite the fact the ship's temperature was carefully monitored and regulated. Cohen noticed his perspiration and smiled sympathetically.
"Don't worry so much, Lieutenant. We're here to end this threat."
As the Commander's words came out, a flash of light erupted on screen and soared towards them, striking just as she turned to see the impact. They were thrown violently off their feet, and the lighting fluctuated for a moment. Cohen pulled herself up onto her chair and barked her orders.
"Shields up! Prepare to launch fighters!"
She looked over to the XO for a report.
"Minor hull damage, but we're okay," replied Nichols with a sigh of relief.
"What the hell was that?" Cohen yelled.
"I'm getting nothing on the scanners, except for...a small energy signature two klicks ahead."
They looked back at the screen to see nothing but space between them and the planet. But before they could do anything, the lone Aranui vessel opened fire. Its beam-like weapon soared out to what seemed like open space until it appeared to pierce an object. A moment later the target seemed to materialise, as if from some camouflage device, and break apart from the high-energy blast.
Nobody said a word as all watched and waited for what would happen next and carefully studied the wreckage of the ship that had just been destroyed. It was smaller than a Human frigate. It had what appeared to be three talons or mandibles protruding from an oval and almost featureless hull, though it was hard to tell for sure, as the powerful blast had ripped the vessel apart.
"Is that the ship that attacked the Bulwark?" Cohen asked.
Jones shook his head.
"If only," he replied.
As he finished, a flash of lights burst out in the distance, and a volley of gunfire soared towards them as three similar vessels revealed themselves.
"Brace for impact!" Cohen ordered.
Just one of the shots hit the Guam, and it rocked them once again. Warning lights flashed over the console where the XO was already sectioning off floors that had been breached.
"Launch fighters and fire everything!"
The railguns opened fire and were quickly joined with trails of missiles as the crew did exactly as ordered. Another impact struck the Guam, and somehow Jones couldn’t believe they were still alive. Off to their flank they could see a flash, as one of the smaller Human frigates was blown apart and another Cholan vessel was smashed so badly it lost power and was now nothing more than a floating wreck.
The Allied fleet did not need any direction to return fire. They joined the Aranui vessel and the Guam in unloading a salvo into the hostile vessels.
“The Manchester has been destroyed!” Nichols called out.
But their attention remained focused on the enemy vessels. They watched as waves of fighters swooped in to attack. Jones couldn’t help but feel helpless as he watched everyone around him fight the battle while he did nothing but stand and watch and hope for the best.
The fighter wings strafed one of the enemy vessels, and the continued bombardment from the rest of the fleet smashed them into oblivion. Even as one of the wrecks began to break apart, the guns of the Guam continued pounding into its hull just to be sure.
“Hold fire!”
“All vessels hold fire,” Nichols relayed the order.
Everything fell silent, and the bridge crew stared out into space at the wreckage of the alien vessels. On the side screens they saw the devastation to their own fleet. Everyone was frozen now, but Commander Cohen was checking the displays at Nichols’ console. She seemed to keep going through anything with a cool head and professional touch.
“Leave three ships here to carry out rescue and research operations. Set a course for 186f, and get us moving,” she ordered calmly.
No one moved for a second as they took in the horror of their own losses.
"You can save lives and protect even more if you get to your jobs, so get to it!" she barked.
The engines drove them forwards once again. Jones approached the Commander with Santos close behind him.
"What exactly is our mission here, Sir?" Jones asked her quietly.
She looked up into his eyes as if to be surprised he had to ask.
"This was never going to be a fact finding mission, Lieutenant."
"But you know how hard we have worked for hundreds of years to circumvent major conflict? Could we not have at least tried to avoid it?"
"I can't see how. All I see right now is a small potential threat a long way from the Allied races’ worlds. But if it is allowed to continue, it could become a big problem much closer to home. I will not allow that to happen."
"So we're here on a search and destroy mission?"
She didn't answer, but it was clear from the expression on her face that it was true.
"Now, those ships, do you believe them to be of the same origin as the one which attacked the Bulwark?"
"I...think so, but..."
"Speak plainly, Lieutenant."
"Same origin? I believe so, but they were...well. Small, a pushover compared to what we saw."
"You didn't have the power of a fleet at your side."
"And you weren't there," replied Santos.
"Commander, I don't mean to be rude. But if the thing that attacked us shows up again, you don't want to be here to see it."
"Lieutenant, if that thing turns up, then it will be subjected to the same treatment it visited upon the Bulwark."
"I think you are underestimating the strength of what we are facing, Sir."
"Thank you, Lieutenant. Have your Company prepared for ground deployment."
"Yes, Sir," he replied, groaning as Santos followed him back across the bridge and out of earshot of the Commander.
"Do you think she wants war?"
"I don't think the Commander believes that is a possibility. She thinks this is just an isolated incident of some lost civilisation."
"And you know otherwise?"
Jones’ eyes went wide as he stared at the Captain, but he would not give an answer.
"What are you not telling us?"
Jones shrugged. "I don't know anything for certain. All I know is you don't go meddling with something this powerful. Ever heard the meme 'don't poke the bear?’”
"No."
"It's an old saying, pretty self explanatory."
"Yeah, I got it. What are we really doing here?"
Jones was surprised to hear the Captain ask him, but he also knew a lot more than he was letting on.
"We've come to destroy the threat completely."
"And you think that can be achieved with this fleet?"
"No," he replied bluntly.
"So those ships that attacked us, what do you think they were?"
"The welcome party," he repl
ied.
The view before them suddenly flickered and distorted until the vast enemy vessel that had assaulted them before revealed itself. It blocked the path to the planet and filled the screen. Cohen's head snapped around and glared at Jones.
"Is that it?" she yelled.
"Yes," he replied, and he looked terrified.
He didn't know what he was expecting, but he prayed they wouldn't have to see it again. They could already see the charge building at the base of the mandibles protruding from the immense hull.
"We're getting hailed."
"Put them through," snapped Cohen.
The screen went black as it did before, and once again Jones could see what appeared as two eyes glowing in the darkness. It felt as though they were looking at him and growing wider with recognition. It was a sickening feeling to think he might be singled out, but there was no way he could tell for sure.
"I am Commander Cohen of the United Earth Navy and representative of the League of Four races. We do not come here with any hostile intentions, but we will defend ourselves when fired upon."
No response came.
"Resend that transmission in every language we have on record," she said to Nichols.
"Already done."
"What do you want from us?" Cohen asked.
They still weren't sure if they were even speaking to a sentient being or some kind of computer. But the motion of the lights appeared as eyes moving slightly before them, and it gave a sense of a living creature.
"What do you want from us?" she asked again.
Once again the transmission ended without a word, and they were left with the foreboding sight of the titanic vessel.
"What now?" Santos asked.
"Fire," replied Jones, "Don't wait, fire now while you still can."
Cohen hesitated, and just a few seconds later the energy reached the end of the maniples of the vast super weapon and joined. Cohen was speechless as she watched the beam of light burst out from the vessel and strike one of the destroyers off their port bow. The ship was blown apart into three pieces and smaller debris.
"All vessels engage target!" Cohen shouted, and her orders were quickly relayed.
The weapon systems once again opened fire, and they watched the screens as the fleet poured fire into the massive ship. They had no idea where or how to best target it, so they simply held position and opened up with everything they had. Bursts of energy from hidden weapon platforms aboard the enemy vessel opened fire on them, and for a moment it seemed the lone vessel was putting out as much fire as their entire fleet.
“Get us out of here…leave now while we still can!” Jones shouted at the Commander.
But she ignored him and turned back to the operations display.
“Have the Cholan vessels move to the stern of this thing and target its engines!”
Fire continued to pour into the ship, and they could feel the impacts at their feet as the whole ship was rocked by salvos from the mysterious craft. A light flashed before them, and Jones looked just in time to see the main gun blast another of the Human destroyers and destroy it in a single shot.
“We can’t stay here. We can’t beat this thing, Commander!”
“We must. Those are our orders,” she snapped.
Jones looked past the Commander and could see a number of shadowy outlines growing nearer.
“What the hell is that?”
Nichols brought up a display to show it was a wing of small vessels. They looked too large to be fighters and nothing like the object that boarded them before. These were craft with stubby wings and possibly a cockpit. The nose was more like a mining drill than the front of an aircraft. Jones didn’t know what was on board, but he knew just where they were heading.
“Do not let them reach us. Last time one of theirs got aboard, it nearly cost us all our lives.”
“Direct forward batteries now,” ordered Cohen.
The rain of fire obliterated two of the enemy craft, but another two passed within their firing solution and smashed into the hull of the Guam. Just as before, they felt no explosion, but warning lights and sirens flashed up on the hull breaches. Nichols was quick to direct the appropriate measures.
"Have we just been boarded?" Cohen asked.
Nichols was busy sealing off areas to patch up their hull.
"Have we been boarded?" she repeated in a stronger tone.
"I don't know."
Nichols was flicking through internal security monitors now. Several were not working, but they reached one that showed a ruined interior wall and part of the alien ship they had seen protruding through the breach. There was no movement for a second, but then what seemed like a double door slid inside the hull. Everyone watched out of mostly morbid curiosity and terror. They saw something move out into the light for just a moment. Nobody could tell what it was in the brief second they saw it, as the camera feed cut off.
"What the hell just happened?"
"Camera has been destroyed or deactivated," replied Nichols.
"Find another."
"They've been knocked out throughout most of the deck and elements above and below that position, Sir."
"Deploy drones, contain them!"
Nichols sent command orders on his screen to deploy the initial units.
"Let me go in," said Jones.
Cohen looked at him in surprise.
"You need eyes down there and someone to command the defence in person. You still have Captain Santos to hold and protect this position."
She quickly agreed and turned back to the battle before them. Jones rushed off the bridge and was glad to be able to do something rather than stand and watch helplessly as the fleet was torn apart. He raised his left arm and brought up the control orders for the Company he had been given. He sent the command for 1st Platoon to escort him and the others to his flanks.
Jones rushed into an elevator and hit the command for level five where he knew the enemy had breached. He was still alone when the doors closed, and he couldn't help but feel scared.
"Keep it together, keep it together," he whispered to himself.
He dropped the magazine from his rifle and pulled out another from his armour. He took one quick look to see it was filled with red tip armour piercing rounds, and then slammed it into the rifle. He knew they were not permitted for use about a ship, but he also knew they needed to survive.
He looked down at his compact and contour fit body armour. He'd always felt like a million credits in it, as he knew how much protection it provided against conventional weapons, but now knew how little it meant. About the only thing he could say for his equipment was that it was light and gave him great mobility.
The door to the elevator opened, and he found 1st Platoon waiting for him. Though they didn't make him feel any more comfortable or safe in the scenario. Having other Humans around gave a sense of safety, but the drones didn't provide the same factor. He knew it was purely psychological, but it still bothered him. The corridor ahead was broad and with only a few paths and doors off it. It reminded him of the urban combat training that he had practiced so many times, but he knew this was far worse. The ship was feeling like a dungeon now that he had to hunt some enemy far beyond their technology or understanding.
"1st Squad lead the way," he ordered, as he gave the command to the nearby platoons to close in on his console.
He had almost two hundred of the UEA’s finest drones at his command, more than he'd ever had in his career. He clung to that fact now, in the hope that it would mask his fear and see some hope of victory.
Gunfire rang out to his right flank, and he looked down at his console. The lights flashed where one of his platoons had made contact. He clicked to get a video feed from one of the drones, but it was being jammed.
"Damn it," he said to himself and carried on with one of the squads in front. He used the drones to screen and protect himself, just as he had been trained. With all of the soldiers before him, he could not see ahead. Instead, he
watched the feed from the drone on point from the console on his arm. It was like watching a video game, and yet the risk to his life made him feel otherwise.
The ambient lighting suddenly cut out without warning.
"Halt," he ordered, and the platoon came to a standstill.
Red emergency lighting cut in, and for a moment Jones felt relieved, but that soon failed also, and they were left in complete darkness.
"NVGs on," he ordered.
He pressed a button on his console, and a visor slid down from his helmet that dropped down to nose height. Lights flickered, and suddenly everything was illuminated with a three-colour palette and almost perfect visibility.
I hate these things.
He remembered when his failed during a night training exercise the year before. Lights flashed in the corridor up ahead, and he looked back down at his console. The camera feed dropped to the ground as the drone was hit. Jones leapt to the side of the corridor and took shelter in one of the large support beams running along the corridor. White flashes of energy zipped down the corridor and struck several of the drones. Jones saw two of the impacts blow the drones apart, but he saw another drop motionless from a lesser impact to the shoulder, as if it had simply been switched off.
He hunkered down in the cover and controlled his unit from his console. From the foremost drone's camera he could just make out the enemy up ahead, but the flashes of their weapons made it hard to get a bearing on exactly what he was seeing. The drones were returning fire with controlled bursts, but they seemed to have little effect on their attackers. He looked at the GPS positioning of his drones and could see 1st Squad was almost gone, with just two still in action. He directed 2nd Squad to move forward, and for 2nd Platoon to move in on their left flank from a parallel corridor.
2nd Squad went forward without fear or hesitation. They were nothing more than machines, but Jones could not help feel the loss when several more were cut down, and he wondered if they could make any progress.
"Ah, hell," he said and decided to weigh into the fray. He got up and peered around the pillar enough to get a view of the enemy. They were just twenty metres ahead. He raised his rifle, flicked the selector onto flash, and pulled the trigger. He looked away for just a moment but knew he didn't have to notify the squad beside him. They were programmed to block visuals when any friendly flash device was fired.
Battle Beyond Earth: Resurrection Page 5