by G. H. Holmes
Joel yanked the door open and found two men from Chaos Company in the seats, manning the gun, whose barrel pointed out through a vitrum dome into space.
"Boy, what happened to you guys?" Joel asked. Their uniforms bore dark-red stains, which made them look as if they'd been bleeding.
"We fell down in a dusty environment up in the Armory, Sir," one corporal reported.
"You look a mess," Joel said.
"This dirt's just dust."
"Well," Anderson said, "I have orders from the general for the entire MARDET. He wants us to commence to the hangar bay for immediate evacuation."
"What?" the other gunner said.
"You heard me," Joel said. "Get out of here! On the double."
The news that the station was no longer a safe environment spread among the troops like wildfire. They left their gear in their camps and, guided by their officers, jogged down towards the transport area. Certain walkways and vitrum tubes were filled with running troops as far as the eye could see.
They were about one klick away from the hangars when they spilled into a wide concourse. Here, Joel wanted to assemble all that were following him for a quick headcount. But while the troops were still streaming in, a rumble shook the walls. Right behind Joel, an armored fist, bigger than a man's, crashed through the wall and the captain turned around, startled. He staggered backwards when he saw how another armored fist punched through the sheetrock. Two knees followed and then a Mech warrior had broken out of its hiding place. Its head turned with stop-and-go motions as it took in its environs.
All over the concourse Mech warriors now broke through the walls. The silver androids were each at least three meters tall. They stomped towards the troops, which evaded them.
"Mech-bots!" somebody screamed.
Joel knew, if those Mech warriors began to shoot sharp, they'd destroy not only his Marines, but the station as well. What were they? Some kind of suicide squad?
They were probably just paralyzers. A crowd-control measure.
Which was bad enough.
The first Mech warrior pointed his fist at a soldier and fired. A crackling lightning hit the man. He screamed and went down.
"Move on!" Joel screamed at the top of his lungs. "Everybody move on into the next tunnel! They won't be able to follow us there!" The din almost drowned out his voice.
"Aim at the heads!" Lieutenant Stella Halvorsen shouted. "Aim at the necks. Let's try to short-circuit those tin cans!"
The Marines that weren't streaming towards the next duranium tunnel did as told and fired at the Mech bots, which lumbered after them. Lightnings flashed from many guns and the first Mech suit toppled over, blocking the way for two other ones.
The klutzy bots fired at the troops and succeeded in getting some of them down. When that happened, another soldier immediately grabbed his fallen buddy by arm or scruff and dragged him into the nearest tunnel.
In the end the concourse was empty but for Joel Anderson. The robots idled in front of the entrance to the vitrum tunnel in which he stood. Joel took a grenade from his pocket, pulled its fuse and tossed it towards the tin cans. The flash-bang exploded and messed up the robots' cameras. Stunned, they stopped their motions and seemed to freeze.
Joel ran away as fast as he could.
Ben Harrow stood in the door of the round tugboat when the troops from Aleph Company rushed into the hangar bay. Behind him, the inside of the blue pilot craft was glowing in warm orange colors.
He'd already turned it on!
Captain Wakka Wakka, who seconds earlier had spilled in from another tunnel with his Berlin Company, shook his head. How had Harrow managed to get in here anyway? Wakka peered out the window and saw an untethered x-jet parked right outside the window. The captain knew that Harrow had been flying around in space a short while ago, presumably in that very craft he was looking at. But who had helped him get in?
Wakka scratched his head.
His gaze wandered back to the general, who stood atop the stairs, broad-legged, his hands behind his back. He was watching the troops stream into the big hall.
When no more troops were coming in from the tunnels, Harrow said, "Captain Anderson, Captain Wakka! Are your troops all present?"
Both, Wakka and Joel were out of breath. They worked their way through the crowd until they stood in front of the general, where they saluted.
"I think I speak for both of us, Sir, when I say that we don't know," Joel admitted.
Harrow's eyes were scanning the crowd. They saw it in his bouncy gaze. Was he doing a headcount?
"I see that even Chaos Company made it!" Harrow said. He smiled.
The hibernators were awake again! How did that happen?
"But I'm missing Mr. Gruzka. Lieutenants, where is your Captain?"
"We assume he's still in the Armory, Sir," an officer from Chaos Company shouted. "He may be agnostic to the order, Sir."
Ben bounced on his feet. "I see… Well, we have no time to lose. Our space is limited; form a line and file in everybody. Those wounded go in first. We need to get going as fast as possible."
Ben turned to Anderson and Wakka standing next to him. "Your companies are both here. Every troop."
Both captains' eyebrows went up. They wondered how he knew that when they didn't. But they didn't dare question him.
Instead, Wakka said, "Aye, Sir." And then both officers stood to the left and right side of the door and watched as the troops passed them by and entered.
Wakka turned to the general and said, "Excuse me, Sir."
"What do you want, soldier?"
Wakka stepped away from the entrance and Ben followed him. "What are we going to do about Captain Gruzka, Sir?"
"That depends, Captain Wakka," Ben said. "If it's safe to do so, we will fly over to the Armory in order to retrieve him. If we come under attack, however, we'll make for the pylon road as fast as we can. We'll be safe there. As you may know, one cannot make war jumping in and out of hyperspace."
"I see." Wakka nodded thoughtfully.
Anderson came over. "It's getting tight in there, Sir."
Ben went and peered into the tugboat's cargo space. He saw that the crowded troops were still carrying their rifles. They wouldn't need those were they were going.
"Pass your guns on to the person next to you and get them out of my ship!" Ben said. "They are taking up too much space."
The troops understood, took their rifles and handed them over their heads to the next person, until the guns arrived by the door, where Anderson and Wakka were throwing them out into the hall. After the last man was in and the last gun was out, Ben shepherded the two captains into the boat and stepped in himself. He punched a button and the staircase came up, turning into a closing door.
Harrow sat in the pilot's seat and stared at the wide screen in front of him. Wakka Wakka sat by the navigation table. Anderson was in the back with the troops.
Ben touched the desktop's glass display. On the big front screen, the door to the hangar bay slid open and they looked out into space. The tug began to vibrate gently as Ben eased it out of the hangar and passed the x-jet off to its side. As soon as he was safely outside, he sped the ship up and flew up towards the Armory. They sped past the arches and tubes and angles of the giant station.
"Gruzka, Sir?" Wakka Wakka asked.
Ben nodded curtly. "Keep your eyes out for incoming bandits," he ordered.
"Bandits, Sir?"
"Any kind of enemy craft, Captain," Harrow clarified.
Wakka's gaze fell on the screen in front of him. "Of course, Sir."
Ben deftly maneuvered the clumsy craft around the vitrum tubes and duranium tunnels and steered it towards the Armory.
When he broke free of the station's tangle and glided towards the gate close to the Armory, Wakka suddenly shouted, "I've got action on my screen, Sir!"
"Your information is unspecific, Captain," Ben said with a calm voice. "Clarify."
Ben's gaze was on the round gate on the b
ig screen that filled the cockpit's front wall. He obviously still meant to stop by the Armory in order to retrieve Gruzka, even though Wakka was very nervous.
"If I read this correctly, Sir, it appears that two jets are coming our way," Wakka said. He was calm now, too.
"Does the computer give you an estimated arrival time?" Harrow asked.
"Now that you say it, Sir," Wakka replied, his eyes searching the icons on the screen. "It appears they are still fifteen minutes away, but closing in."
"Now, that's what I call information you can work with," Ben said. "If we hurry, we can still take Captain Gruzka with us."
Wakka's gaze was on the general. "Who's gonna go get him, Sir?"
After a pause Ben said, "I will."
His answer didn't calm the captain. "But, Sir, you are the only certified pilot we have."
"I'll be back in time," Ben said.
At that moment the tug connected with the gate, sending shudders through the ship.
Ben got up from his chair. "Be right back. Don't go anywhere."
The bridge door slid open and Ben disappeared.
Wakka looked after him. He blew up his cheeks and released his breath.
Ben entered the grimy hallway beyond the gate and immediately began to run. Dust swirled around him. He raced the distance to the Armory and soon arrived by its entrance.
Staring at his target screen, Pere Gruzka in the bucket seat of the big gun didn't notice Ben, who stood by the door. Gruzka made his big weapon to rotate around its axis. Sitting four meters up in the dome, he looked to Ben like a passenger in a rollercoaster for one.
Suddenly Gruzka fired and a red flash momentarily filled the Armory.
"Captain!" Ben yelled. "Who are you shooting at?"
Gruzka looked to see who'd spoken and became aware of the general down by the door.
"Hello, Sir!"
"The next enemy is fifteen minutes away!"
Gruzka seemed surprised to see Ben. From up in his perch he said, "I found two small craft about a thousand klicks away. Probably some critters from the planet that are hiding, but I found them."
Intrigued, Ben asked, "Two small craft? Give me their coordinates, Captain."
Gruzka checked his target display and told him.
"Did you hit them?" Ben inquired.
"Don't think so, Sir," Gruzka replied. "I've been blowing steam mostly. This gun is wonderful to shoot."
"You bet. So you didn't send any torpedoes at them?"
"No, Sir."
"Forget them," Ben said, "and come down from there. We're evacuating. As in right now!"
Immediately Gruzka worked his touchpad and his seat sunk to the floor. The captain got out, saluted, and then the two officers jogged back to the gate, where the tug was waiting.
Ben noticed a weird gleam in the man's eyes, but didn’t want to read anything into it. Probably came from stress and excitement.
"I see that your troops woke up," Harrow said while they ran. "How come? They are already in the transport, by the way. The rest of your company, too."
"Just couldn’t leave them lying there like a bunch of stiffs," Gruzka replied. "Just didn’t seem right. Sat 'em up along the wall and after a while they came back. Hope you don’t mind, Sir."
"I don't."
Just as they entered and the tug's door closed behind them, Kasa Station was rocked by incoming energy rounds. Looking through a porthole, Ben saw a vitrum tunnel explode, scattering glistening splinters. He dashed into the cockpit, where he immediately sat down in the pilot's seat.
"Long-range energy torpedoes, Sir," Wakka on the navigation table informed him.
"They must have fired them quite a while ago," Ben remarked as he disconnected the tug from the gate.
Another volley of energy torpedoes crashed into the station. Shouts came from the cargo hold, where the troops wondered if they were coming under attack.
"Captain Gruzka, please go back into the cargo hold and tell the troops that all is well," Ben said.
After another second of standing there, Gruzka blinked and said, "Aye, Sir."
Ben engaged the tug's thrusters and dashed away from the gate as fast as he dared. The round craft hurled out into space.
After a minute Wakka Wakka noticed something. "We're not heading towards the pylon road, Sir?"
Ben's eyes were on the screen in front of him. "Gruzka told me of two minor craft a thousand klicks out of the station," he informed his nav man.
"We're heading towards enemy fighters?" Wakka was incredulous. "Beg your pardon, but this tug's unarmed, Sir."
Ben cast him a quick glance and smiled. "These are no hostiles."
"Not to question the general," Wakka said. "But how do we know, Sir?"
"Gruzka gave me the coordinates and the area he mentioned is the precise location of a battle between Gargoyle and Rambler on one side and some Kasa fighters on the other. What Mr. Gruzka found are the rescue bubbles of our combat space patrol."
"Our pilots are still alive?"
Ben sighed. "Captain Wakka, you're from Australia, aren't you?"
Wakka's face lit up at the mention of his home country—continent!—on Terra Originalis. "Why, yes, Sir."
"Australians are not known to be slow on the uptake, Captain. Of course we found our pilots. We're on our way to rescue them right now. You don't want to let them freeze in space, do you?"
"God forbid, Sir."
"That's what I figured."
The tug was much slower than an x-jet and it and the MARDET in it puttered along. After what seemed an eternity, Wakka on his console got excited. "Sir, I think I found them!"
"Very well, Captain," Ben said. "Now feed their coordinates into our beam cannons. We have more than one, don't we?" he hoped. Ben wasn't fully familiar with the tug's equipment.
Wakka, who was not an aviator by trade but had come into his current position mostly by accident, searched his screen and replied, "As a matter of fact, we have six tractor beams available, if I'm correct, Sir."
"Right now we need only two. Now match our cannons with their coordinates like I said."
"Aye, Sir," Wakka answered. As soon as he'd done that, the big view-screen at the cockpit's front changed and in the new portion of space it now showed, two marbles of yellow light could be discerned.
"There you go," Ben said, clearly pleased. He touched two buttons now present on his touchpad and two tractor beams shot out towards the two points of light. The tug's camera was slaved to the beams and as they zoomed in on their intended targets, the camera zoomed in, too. After a couple seconds the vitrum bubbles with the pilots in them loomed large on the screen in front of them.
"There they are!" Wakka shouted, momentarily forgetting that he was working with the general and not an officer of his own rank. As soon as he realized it, he said, "Pardon my exuberance, Sir."
Ben's gaze was on the two pilots. "You're excused." They were properly strapped in, seemingly unharmed, but were they still alive? Both had their eyes closed and showed no signs of life.
This did not bode well.
The tractor beams were gently reeling in both fragile rescue bubbles. When they were close enough, Ben opened the pressure chamber of the loading bay and the two pilots and their insulated ejection seats glided in. The hatch was closed and the chamber pressurized.
Ben had no time to check on the aviators. He needed to see that he got the tug onto the pylon road as fast as he could. This had already taken almost fifteen minutes; enemy interceptors were on their way and Ben hoped that he wasn’t sacrificing the entire MARDET for two navy pilots. He accelerated the tug as quickly as he could and raced off into space, towards the entrance to the pylon road.
The general thought the ride was going smoothly and even fairly fast, considering that this was a plodding pilot craft, when Wakka by his side suddenly got excited.
"Jets are about to catch up with us, General! They are much faster than we are."
"Put them on my screen," Ben deman
ded.
Wakka again searched his tabletop for the appropriate button. When he'd found it, he punched it and the picture on the view-screen changed once again. Two swift-traveling dots of light came into view.
"That's not what we need right now," he said.
But then he had an idea.
As soon as the two jets from Kasaganaan were within reach of the tug's immensely strong—and long—tractor beams, Ben fired two at them, effectively lassoing the jets. When they realized that somebody had taken over their trajectories, they began to fire madly at the tug—and missed it, because, caught in the beam, their targeting systems were now off kilter.
Ben slowed the tug down and began to spin it around its axis. The two captured fighters rotated around the tug like stones in a slingshot might have rotated around the steely fist of an ancient warrior. For the second time on that day Ben calculated faster than a target system, this time faster than the computer of the tractor beam gun. He released one craft and watched it being hurtled away. At precisely the correct moment he released the second craft, which raced after the first one, but with greater velocity. Within a few seconds the second one caught up with the first one and they crashed into one another, exploding in an orange fireball—which turned into a pulsating star when their energy ordnance went off.
Wakka, who'd watched the spectacle on the big screen, was speechless. He stared with an open mouth.
"And I thought we were unarmed, Sir," he said, eyeing Ben with awe.
Harrow acted like it was nothing. "How far away is the gate, Captain Wakka?"
Wakka's eager eyes searched the screen. "Rendezvous with vector address in two minutes, Sir."
Ben regretted having to take the troops on this trip without them being properly harnessed into seats. This was going to be one crazy ride. It would be hard on them all.
"Captain, please go back to the troops and tell them to lock arms with one another. The pylon road's no picnic. We want to arrive at home in one piece, don't we?"
Wakka was already out of his seat and on the way. "Of course, Sir."