Epic: Dawn of Destiny

by Lee Stephen

  “This part of the world is above the tree line, so we won’t have the luxury of good cover. Once we start over the ridges, there’s going to be nothing but snow between us and the entrance. The Twelfth and ourselves will clear the area and storm the entrance. Once we’ve secured it, we shall enter the complex as the Third move in from the north.”

  The Russian officers whispered among themselves.

  “Commander Baranov will work in conjunction with Captain Keldysh and his team from the Twelfth. The captain will evaluate the situation once the entrance is breached, and he will determine the next course of action. General Thoor will supervise the situation from his position with the Third, inside Vulture-3. Are there any questions?”

  No hands raised.

  “Very well then. Ivan, please gather your team and prepare for first action.”

  The large Russian nodded, and the teams gathered together.

  It was only a matter of minutes until the Pariah descended upon the snow-covered ground.

  “We’re down,” Travis said.

  Baranov stood and clamped on his helmet. His tone intensified behind its zombified stare. “All of my operatives, remember to put your heaters on. As soon as we get the signal from Thoor, we shall move.”

  Becan watched David and Scott as the two men prepared to disembark. “Good luck then, eh?”

  “Yeah, you guys be careful,” Jayden said.

  David offered them a half-smile. “Just like Chicago.”

  Scott smiled. It was nothing like Chicago. In Chicago they had been on the defense. This was the opposite. Scott’s eyes swept across the troop bay until they rested on Svetlana, whose hands encircled Lieutenant Novikov’s waist.

  She leaned her forehead to rest against his shoulder. She whispered something, likely in Russian, and her eyes closed.

  Novikov slid his hands around the small of her back as he held her against his body.

  “Don’t have to speak Russian to know what that’s about,” David whispered.

  “No joke,” Scott answered.

  David held out a fist. “To women who want us home.”

  Scott hit it. “To women who want us home.”

  Baranov hoisted his assault rifle to the ceiling. “My team! Get ready to move! The doors will open soon!”

  Travis peered into the troop bay. “Back door’s comin’ down! Put on your mittens!”

  The cold blew in like an arctic hurricane. As soon as the first crack appeared at the top of the rear door, the temperature in the Pariah plummeted. The operatives shrank back as their skin froze, despite their armor. Icy air whipped through the bay.

  “Good God that’s cold!” Jayden said, his teeth chattering.

  “Great,” Fox said.

  Travis announced over the speaker, “No mercy from Weather Mike today, huh?”

  “Why can’t they build a base in Bermuda?” Fox grumbled.

  As the initial blast of ice died away, Scott bit back his groan and stared out the bay door. Whiteness. It stretched out ahead as far he could see. Pure, smooth, pristine whiteness. Not a single tree anywhere. Only the occasional gray rock jetted up from the ground. If not for the reality of why they were there, it might have been beautiful. Far ahead, the incline of the western ridge loomed.

  “Reminds me of how I used to walk to school,” David said.

  Scott remained silent, his thoughts in prayer. Father, I don’t know why we’re here or what You have planned, but protect us. Protect us from whatever is out here to harm us. Give us the strength to…harm it instead… Choose us over them. But was that right? What if the Bakma, the Ceratopians, and the Ithini were all on a Holy War granted by God? Who was to say that the conquering of Earth wasn’t for the greater good of the universe? Could that be…right? I know that I don’t understand, Father. Just give me the wisdom and clarity to see Your will, and the strength and courage to follow It. I will not be afraid, for Your Hand protects me. So be it.

  “Gotta quench the imagination, huh?”

  Startled out of his reverie, Scott turned to the unexpected voice. Max.

  “No god’s gonna save you out here, Goldilocks,” Max said.

  Scott was silent. His attention returned to the terrain. “Whatever.”

  Max laughed disdainfully and stepped away.

  Baranov stalked down the ramp. “We move now. Rows are me and Tolya, then Max and Fox, then Remington, Galya, and Kostya, then Kevin and Jurgen in the rear.”

  The teams acknowledged him and took their place in row. The air was fresh, and as the operatives’ heaters came alive, they assumed more comfortable postures. Aside from them, there were no signs of animal or plant life. Together, the strike teams trudged ahead.

  The top of the ridge rounded off into a ledge that plunged into the valley where the Bakma facility was located. The teams moved at a snail’s pace as each step seemed a step into nowhere, but gradually the ridge grew closer. Only Galina was hindered by the snow, though she managed to keep up enough to not get left behind.

  “We are close,” Baranov said through the comm. “Almost there.”

  Within minutes, the ridge’s depth became tangible. Baranov knelt and raised an open palm.

  “Inch forward to look down. Nobody cross to other side.” Their sight lines declined with every step until the bottom of the valley came into view.

  The Bakma structure was no larger than a shed, and it was covered in snow. If not for prior knowledge of its whereabouts, it could have been mistaken for a shaft of rock. No Bakma were in sight.

  “When we go down, we will proceed in two rows,” Baranov said. “Front row is myself, Tolya, Remington, Fox, and Jurgen. Back line is Max, Galya, Kevin, and Kostya. We wait for confirmation before we move.”

  Becan and Jayden listened from the transport, where the operatives were clustered around the wall speaker.

  “Twelfth in position.”

  Baranov’s voice emerged a moment later. “Fourteenth in position.”

  “Third in position.”

  Grim looks were exchanged throughout the Pariah. Svetlana fidgeted.

  “Proceed.”

  “We move,” Baranov said. “Go!” He charged down the hill, assault rifle in hand. The other operatives sprung to life behind him. The snow loosened as the hill declined, and the charge shifted into a tactical slide. Far across the valley, the Twelfth began their rush.

  The first signs of resistance appeared. Four Bakma emerged from the structure. The front row of Baranov’s team dropped to their knees and opened fire. The Bakma unleashed several blasts of their own, though they were felled before they could mount a defensive.

  Baranov reached the bottom of the valley a moment later. “Fourteenth clear, four Bakma down.”

  “They’re still okay,” Becan said to Svetlana. Her gaze remained riveted on the speaker.

  Vindicator fighters buzzed into a low orbit over the structure. Scott and David paired together at its outer entrance—a metal doorway. The remainder of the Fourteenth and Twelfth assumed defensive positions. The snow beneath them was tainted with the red sprays of Bakma blood.

  A slim, pale-skinned officer slipped past Scott and David toward Baranov. “Commander Baranov?”

  Baranov nodded.

  “I am Captain Keldysh. Our orders are to storm this compound and isolate it. We take as many hostages as possible and we keep the facility intact. If we cannot do this, our orders will be to destroy the facility by demolitions. Our technicians have high explosives. They will set the charge and explode the facility remotely if need be. Is this understood?”

  “Yes, captain.”

  “Your technicians will now open the door to the facility, and we will send a six-man strike team down the shaft into the complex’s core to set up a stronghold. The rest of our operatives will follow as needed. Our technicians will go down second, followed by your operatives if need be. Is this understood?”

  “Yes, captain.”

  “Very well,” Keldysh said. “Open the door.�
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  Baranov turned around. “Max!”

  Max moved quickly to the metal door, where he removed a round suction device from his belt. He placed it against the door and depressed a small button. The device clicked and whirred. The door slid halfway open. A small circular lift was inside.

  “That’s as good as it gets,” Max said. “It’s not compatible enough to open all the way.”

  “That is all we need,” Keldysh said. Six soldiers from the Twelfth slid through the metal doorway. Keldysh turned to Baranov. “We will need your technician to operate the lift.”

  “Go with them,” Baranov said to Max.

  “Naturally, sir,” Max answered. He slid through the door into the lift. “Goin’ down, fellas?” He used the same suction device, and the metal door slid shut. Behind it, the lift rumbled. Max’s voice emerged through the comm. “We’re on our way down.”

  Kevin slung his assault rifle over his shoulder and said to Scott and David, “Now what?”

  “Now we wait,” Scott said.

  Baranov fidgeted as he placed a hand to his helmet mic. “Progress?”

  “Still going down,” Max answered. “Hell of a deep hole. It’s been a straight drop, totally vertical. Best guess is about fifty meters so far, but we’ve got to be getting clo—all right, sir, we’re slowing.”

  “Okay. We’re down…opening the door…”

  Metal clunked through the comm, then the channel went silent. Baranov placed his hand against the door. The silence broke. Gunfire erupted. Shouts flooded the comm. The noise lasted for almost ten seconds before it faded, and a Russian voice emerged.

  “Area secure, bringing the lift back up. One casualty on his way.”

  “Max?” Baranov actually sounded frightened.

  “It’s not me,” Max answered.

  Baranov closed his eyes and exhaled.

  “Thank you,” Keldysh said. “Bring him up and we will send down our technicians.”

  Keldysh signaled to his team of techs, who positioned themselves beside the structure’s door. Within a minute, the lift reached ground level and the door slid open. Max was the first to emerge, followed by the wounded man. His shoulder was gored straight through the armor, and his teeth clenched firm. Scott stifled a gag as he deliberately looked in the opposite direction. The wounded man was ferried past, where Galina began to examine him.

  The same Russian voice from before spoke through the comm. “We are going to need more help down here, there are many more hostiles.” The sound of sporadic gunfire rattled in the background.

  Keldysh whirled around to face Max. “How many can fit in the lift?”

  “I wouldn’t send anymore than what we just had, about seven. Maybe eight,” Max said.

  Keldysh shifted his attention to Baranov. “Send three of yours.”

  Baranov paused, before turning to Lieutenant Novikov. “Tolya,” he said, “take Jurgen and Kevin.”

  Novikov nodded, “Yes, commander.” He glanced to the two indicated soldiers. “Jurgen, Carpenter—come! You too, Max!”

  “Should be fun,” David said to Scott as he and Kevin slid through the door.

  “Be careful!” Scott said.

  As Novikov and Max followed behind them, David laughed out loud. “Come on man, it’s me!”

  “That’s what I’m worried about!”

  In the Pariah, the remainder of the Fourteenth listened as Novikov, David, Max, and Kevin were lowered into the compound. Svetlana clutched her wrist, pressing her hand against the hull. She stared hard at the floor.

  Keldysh knelt beside Galina and the injured operative. “How is he?”

  “He cannot stay here, captain,” Galina answered. “We must get him to a transport.”

  Keldysh motioned to two soldiers from the Twelfth. “Ebeling! Zamanian! Escort these two to the transport!” The soldiers acknowledged him and rushed to Galina’s side.

  At that moment, the Third became visible as they approached from the north valley. Keldysh and Baranov gazed in their direction as the sound of gunfire again erupted through the comm.

  Keldysh rushed back to the structure. “Status?”

  The Russian voice crackled through the comm. “We are under heavy fire, captain!”

  “There is a team dispatched,” Keldysh answered. “They should arrive soon.”

  As the lift lowered Novikov’s team to the sublevel, the crackle of gunfire intensified. “Assume defensive positions,” Novikov said. “Get ready to exit.” David, Max, and Kevin pressed themselves against the walls of the lift. The technicians huddled out of the way.

  Max gripped the lift controls. “Get ready.” The lift slowed, then clunked to a halt. They were down. “Open in three…two…one!” yelled Max.

  The door slid up. Plasma bolts streamed into the lift. All four members of the Fourteenth stayed pressed against the lift walls, out of the line of fire.

  Novikov leaned around the lift door and unleashed a blind volley. “Out of the elevator!” He dashed free amid the plasma fire. Projectile retaliation ensued. David affirmed his grip on his assault rifle and followed in step. As soon as he stepped out, he knew they were in trouble.

  The circular lift had dropped into a circular room not much larger than the lift itself. A corridor led straight forward, and a quick glance to the left and right indicated two more on each side of the lift. They were surrounded by options.

  Bakma were fortified at the end of the front corridor. Plasma fire rained at the lift.

  “Take position!” Novikov said as the rest of the team poured from the elevator. “Where the hell is isolation team?”

  “Over here, lieutenant!”

  The voice came from the corridor farthest left. Novikov spun to face it. “Technicians, go! Max, come on!” David and Kevin took positions around the corner of the front corridor, where they exchanged fire with the Bakma. “Kevin and Jurgen! Hold the lift!”

  “Yes sir!” David answered as he angled around the corner and fired a volley. As he flung himself back out of danger, his gaze stopped on Kevin’s leg. A fresh char mark stretched across the soldier’s armor. Open flesh sizzled beneath. David held his fire. “You all right?”

  “Yeah,” Kevin answered as he knelt around the corner and popped off a shot. He rolled back out of fire. “Got skimmed is all!”

  Novikov followed the voice down the far left corridor until he came across a trio of soldiers fortified at a T-junction. As two soldiers exchanged fire with Bakma defenders on their end, one pivoted to face the lieutenant.

  “What happened?” Novikov asked.

  The soldier reloaded his assault rifle. “Lieutenant, we did not have the position we expected when we came out of the lift. There was no cover, we had to move or we would have been killed!”

  “And now?”

  “Now we are holding okay. If we can get more men down here soon, we can take this facility!”

  Max emerged from behind Novikov. “If it’s an outpost as we expect, there won’t be very many more Bakma. We’ve got the entrance covered. That’s the most important part.”

  Novikov adjusted his comm. “Captain, we are holding the lift area as of now. I suspect we will need perhaps ten or fifteen more soldiers to begin a tactical sweep. We can take this outpost.”

  The channel hissed with static. “Understood, Novikov. We will assemble a strike team once the Third arrives. Hold your area until then.”

  “Understood, captain.”

  On the surface, Keldysh tromped toward Baranov. “Commander Baranov, you will lead a team of two down the lift to assist in isolation. When Captain Gavich arrives with the Third, a larger team of his men will join you.”

  “Understood, captain,” Baranov said, turning. “Remington, Kostya! You two, come with me! We assist the isolation team!”

  Scott and Konstantin moved to Baranov’s side. Konstantin. Scott didn’t know him well. He didn’t know if he was reliable.

  “Tolya,” Baranov said through the comm, “myself, Kostya, and R
emington are on our way down. Send Max up with the—”

  He was cut off mid-sentence as the sky erupted with a tremendous explosion. The operatives threw back their heads to witness the display. Behind the Third, the fiery remnants of a Vindicator fighter plummeted to the earth.

  The comms exploded with pilot chatter.

  “Noboats! We have Noboats! Two mat—three materializing!”

  The squadron of Vindicators streaked past and three Bakma Noboats appeared behind them. Within seconds, a second Vindicator was set ablaze with plasma fire.

  On the ground below, Keldysh swung toward the operatives as two of the Noboats rotated for a descent. “Behind the structure! Take cover behind the structure!”

  Novikov’s voice broke through the comm noise. “What is going on up there?”

  “Three Noboats have just materialized!” Baranov answered. “Two are coming in for landing!”

  “So what are we supposed to do?”

  The scattered Vindicator fighters reoriented over the structure. Their pilots’ voices flooded the airwaves.

  “Pull back and close in. We have two descenders, one strafer.”

  “Copy that, wing commander.”

  “Red Flight, are you in position for a run?”

  “Negative, Green Flight, we’re split two-one.”

  “Red, run the gauntlet on the ground, we’ll take the strafer.”

  “Affirmative, Green Flight, regrouping.”

  “Travis,” Clarke said from the bay of the Pariah, “please take us to the ridge!”

  Travis acknowledged him, and the transport dragged itself off the ground.

  Clarke faced the operatives with him. “Ladies and gentlemen, ready yourselves for a ground assault! We’ll attack the Bakma from behind the ridge and give them something else to shoot at!”