AMP Rebellion

by Stephen Arseneault

  Booom! Booom!

  Our advance was cleared.

  I stopped with Bellows as he knelt down to assist Chance Moler. The Major had passed out from the injury and the pain. Bellows looked up and shook his head. The Major had sacrificed himself for us all. I continued forward with an angry scowl on my face.

  I yelled as I came to the doors and fired on two fleeing Dakar. “Aaaaaagggh!

  Ak-ak-ak-ak-ak!

  Laser bolts were flying from several fallback locations as the Dakar attempted to regroup. Frost led a team into the control room for the doors and began the process of first closing and then sealing them shut. Lights flashed and an alarm sounded as the massive blast doors began to close. I pulled a TIG from my pack and heaved it down the entranceway corridor as an army of Dakar soldiers rounded the far corner in our direction. Four ion bolts struck the outer side of the doors as they closed and locked. It was now us versus the 350 Dakar that occupied the port facility.

  I yelled, “Abouye! Lightfoot! Park your squads here and don’t give up possession of this control room. Finch! Breslin! Take your squads and clear out those admin offices and the warehouses. Fachetti! Flush out that docking bay and tell me if there are any ships in there that we could fly if need be. And Aaron! You are coming with me. We are going to take ingress control and stop any ship that attempts to land in this port. You all have your orders. Move out!”

  As we moved over a crosswalk the occasional ion bolt would flash over our heads. There was a strange thing about the Grid station construction. Ion bolts were largely absorbed by the materials that made up any bare station walls. Anything we had constructed since our arrival acted in the normal manner, it would explode violently if a full ion charge met it full on. But the original walls only gave off sparks. The Grid was made up of materials that we could not reproduce. It was another of her mysteries we had yet to unlock.

  The port itself rose for three levels from Wallace-16 through Wallace-18. From our position we would have to make our way down a local trans-way to the base floor where the ingress control room was located. Once on the floor it was an 850 meter run to the outer port wall. Cover across the port floor was minimal at best.

  I spoke, “We have a 250 meter run to that first set of materials out there. From there we have another 150 meters to those cargo containers and 150 meters beyond that to that floor conveyer. Beyond that is where we will be most vulnerable. The last scan showed 40 Dakar in and around that control room area. I don’t think we have anyone here that can throw a TIG 200 meters. So, we are going to have to figure something out.”

  We moved across the port floor in a zig-zag fashion. The occasional ion bolt came over our heads to which we returned a hail of AK rounds. The Dakar taking the long range shots soon decided it was not worth being shot at. Our first two hops across the floor went off without incident. When we arrived at the floor conveyer I sat behind a row of cargo containers.

  I spoke, “Bellows. What can you give me for this arm? That prior shot has worn off. I’m starting to get finger cramps and this is my trigger hand.”

  Bellows replied, “I was afraid that might happen Sir. That rib tore through your muscles that control the tendons in your hand. If you are having cramps it is because those muscles that are left in there have been stretched beyond normal. You are going to have to stop using that hand Sir, or you risk tearing them all and having a long recovery from it.”

  I replied, “Oh great. I have to fight with my left hand? My aim is going to be worthless.”

  Bellows replied, “Don’t know what to tell you Sir. If we were back on the Suppressor I could give you an exo-shell for that forearm that would alleviate some of that muscle strain. Can’t do much here but tell you to not use it.”

  I looked around at my team. “Anyone have an arm on ‘em? And if so, how far do you think you can throw a TIG?”

  Corporal Lance Johnson spoke up, “I played in the Delta leagues before joining the Corps Sir.”

  Johnson held a TIG in his hand and bounced it up and down.

  Johnson continued, “I’m guessing about 60 meters in the air and another 60 meters of rollout, but it will go off before it gets to that distance with a five second fuse. I’m guessing we would get maybe 90 meters.”

  I got on the comm to Frig. “Frig, what are the chances you can drop a NIB near the ingress patrol room of Wallace port?”

  Frig replied, “I will need 15 minutes Sir. Admiral Chaulk is in a fierce battle at the moment and I am using the portal in support of his efforts. The Durians are heavily involved in the fight and they are using an explosive grenade of their own. Chaulk is taking heavy losses.”

  I replied, “Roger that. Let me know when your time is coming available. We may need you. And have Jeb see if he can come up with a launcher for these TIGs. It would have come in handy for us right now.”

  I closed the comm and looked around at the faces that were awaiting my command. “Looks like we are going to have to do this the hard way. Frost, check those containers and see if they can be pushed across that floor. We might be able to use them as a kind of moving cover.”

  Frost looked over the container closest to her. “It appears solid enough Sir. If we had an auto-pallet we could push it wherever we wanted.”

  I punched up the area inventory on my arm pad. “Over on that wall we came from, there, by that blue number four sign is a stack of them. Who wants to go get a few?

  Lieutenant Aaron answered, “We got this one Sir. Give us a little cover and we will be back in a few.

  Ak-ak! Ak-ak! Ak-ak!

  Several minutes passed as Aaron’s squad zig-zagged their way to the pallet stack and back. Upon their return they were rewarded with a two minute rest.

  I got on the comm. “Abouye, what’s your status?”

  Abouye replied, “Resistance around the door was light Sir. Breslin and Finch chased the bulk of them into warehouse five. I believe it’s only a matter of time before they have them finished off.”

  I switched channels. “Fachetti, how are the docks?”

  Fachetti replied, “We dispatched about a dozen Dakar Sir. Docks are clean. We have 16 small haulers parked here, but the controls on them have been smashed. They aren’t flyable Sir.”

  I replied, “Are the computers intact? Can they be flown remotely?”

  Fachetti replied, “I didn’t think to check for that Sir. I’ll be right back.”

  The first of the shipping containers was pushed onto the auto-pallet. A switch was toggled and the auto-pallet came to life. The container rose five centimeters off the port floor. It could now easily be pushed around by an individual.

  I spoke, “Let’s get half a dozen of these containers floating and see if we can use them as cover to move in closer. Aaron, keep your squad here and provide cover. We are going to try for that wall just down and to the right of the control room. If this works, I want you to take those remaining pallets and move to a position to the left. From there we will attempt to move in.”

  Aaron turned to his squad. “You heard the man! Get into position. I want rounds plinking those walls there and there. That should help to keep their heads down. Let’s move people!”

  Aaron’s squad took position as we began to push our cover containers slowly across the open expanse of the port floor. The containers were a metal infused plastic. Ion bolts would heat them up and add a slight electrical charge to them, but the containers would hold.

  Frost spoke from behind her container, “What’s the plan when we reach that wall Sir? And have you considered that walkway up there? If they come out when we are against that wall we would be easy targets from that position.”

  I replied, I’m hoping we can move on that control room before they figure that out. If they do come out there, Aaron’s team is going to have to keep them busy for us. Let’s just focus on making that wall for right now.”

  The Dakar fi
red almost continuously at the containers as we pushed across the floor. At 60 meters, the lead container took a hit to the auto-pallet. Johnson’s progress came to a halt.

  I called out, “Get a TIG up against that control room wall. That should quell those blasters for a couple minutes. Jump to the nearest container the instant that goes off!”

  Johnson replied, “On it Sir!”

  Pop!

  Johnson turned and sprinted towards a container that was being pushed by Sergeant Melody Darrow.

  Darrow cheered him on. “Come on Johnson! Almost home!”

  With four meters left in his sprint, two laser pulses converged on his position at the same instant. The second pulse struck Johnson in the forehead, slicing off the top of his skull. A dead Johnson fell to floor beside Sergeant Darrow. She knelt beside him and looked on helplessly.

  I yelled, “Darrow! We can’t help him now. Get back on that container. We need to push on!”

  We soon reached the wall and Aaron’s squad began to make their move. From our angle we had a much better shot at the control room. We provided cover for Aaron as we slowly moved along the wall.

  Frost leaned back and threw a grenade upwards towards the walkway that overlooked us. The grenade exploded, sending shrapnel across the walk.

  Frost spoke, “If they come out there Sir we can frag ‘em. But if they persist we are in trouble.”

  I replied, “Well, let’s keep moving until that happens. Aaron will be in position in about 30 seconds. We can storm that control room then. Pop off another TIG right in front of their position. And focus any shots on where you see laser pulses originating from. If we can take them out or keep them pinned that control room will be ours!”

  The Dakar failed to take advantage of the overhead walkway and our flanking maneuver soon had them out positioned. After one final push we rushed their position.

  Ak-ak-ak-ak-ak! Ak-ak-ak-ak!

  Grenades rolled and TIGs popped as the AKs we carried continued to spray the area. The last of the Dakar in the port soon fell silent. The control room was ours and with it control of the Wallace-18 ore port. Frig provided instruction and the ingress landing tunnel was soon blocked by the Grid’s gravity repulsors. We had achieved our objective.

  Chapter 17

  I raised the Colonel on the comm. “Yes Colonel, The port is under our control. The squads are checking every nook and cranny for hiders, but I don’t think we will find any. How goes your progress?”

  The Colonel replied, “We are on Lima-4 and moving up the trans-way. I don’t like the fact that there has been little resistance since you released that Chlorine gas on ‘em. They were giving Chaulk a heck-uv-a fight and then they backed off. I get the feeling they are luring us in for some reason.”

  I replied, “I guess we’ll know once you reach that drive room.”

  Frig came on the comm. “Sir, the Durians have just landed several large transports. Initial scans are pointing towards 65,000 Helgrons coming aboard at Beta bay. I’m attempting to raise video now.”

  After a moment of looking at my arm pad the video stream began to show. “Colonel? What do you suppose those weapons they are bringing aboard are?”

  The Colonel replied, “Those are ion rifles. I would have to say they either figured out how to isolate and shield them or they have mastered a negative ion pulse technology. Frig! See if you can drop a NIB in their path. Time it to go off just as they arrive at its position. We are then going to need a volunteer to fire off a couple rounds at them and then turn and haul ass out of there. Arrange for a portal pickup in a secluded room. We need to see just what those weapons are.”

  The Colonel’s team was soon converging on the gravity drive control room on Lima-22. Upon arrival the Colonel got on the comm. “Grange! Looks like they trashed the place. We can’t start that drive up from here. We are in real trouble Grange. Our entire strategy consisted of taking those controls.”

  I spoke, “Colonel, how many ports are there, that would allow the Dakar and the Durians to resupply? If we can shut off access like we did here, that might turn the tables for us. We would have to first take and hold them all, and the rest would have to fight, but we would at least have a fixed enemy that we were dealing with.”

  The Colonel replied, “There are 45 such access points leading on and off this station. Twelve of those have been in mothballs for ages. We control one of the others. It would take us days to get control of the lot of them, if we are able to fight our way around this place.”

  I looked down at my arm pad and spoke, “I think you should begin planning for that Colonel. We need time to figure out a new long term plan. If you have any techs on your teams I would suggest putting them to work on attempting repairs on that place. Maybe there is a minimum of controls we will need to start that drive. Frig, is that something you can look into? I know those control rooms were kept secret. There may not be schematics or parts lists available to us.”

  Frig replied, “I’ll get to work on it Sir. I also have Sergeant Rambo here as our volunteer to take a shot at the Durians. I have a room selected and he should be going through the portal shortly Sir.”

  The Colonel quizzed his Marines for any with a technical skill set. They were put to work at attempting to repair the gravity drive controls. The drive, its mechanisms and monitors, were all original to the Grid. We did not hold out much hope of a functional repair.

  Frig detonated a NIB and Sergeant Rambo popped off two AK rounds before ducking back around a corner and into a waiting room. Once through the portal it was closed, leaving no evidence of its existence. The Durians fired the new blaster rifles. As suspected, they had conquered the negative ion pulse.

  For two hours the Durians marched down and towards the gravity drive control room on Lima-22. Admiral Chaulk’s men had been gathering ion blasters from the Dakar soldiers they had encountered. When the Durians first arrived the firefight was a bloody mess.

  “This is Alvarez! We have to pull back! I have eight dead from three squads. The Durian guns have a reach just around the corner enough to knock you down. If you fall the wrong way they make you pay for it!”

  Similar chatter was filling our comm channels. The Durian Helgrons were skilled warriors with superior weapons. Use of our conventional grenades was the only thing holding back a complete rout. The Colonel would not be able to hold the control room for long. We were now confronted with a game of survival.

  I spoke, “Colonel, pull out of there and send your men to the ports. The Durians won’t be able to get through those blast doors. It should at least buy us some time.”

  The Colonel replied, “I don’t think we have much choice at this point Don. We don’t have the means to hold them back out there. Frig! See if you can map out paths to each of the ports for us. I’ll connect with the Admiral and we will start sending teams out to take them.”

  Frig replied, “I will have that for you in a moment Sir. Travese algorithm is complete, data should be coming over the link now.”

  With a few clicks on his keyboard Frig had employed an algorithm that yielded paths to 32 open ports around the station. Admiral Chaulk and his units were given 16 ports and Admiral Zimmerman’s men another eight with the remaining eight assigned to the Colonel’s team. A force of 50,000 would remain to combat the Durians until the ports could be captured and sealed.

  I got on the comm to Frig, “Pop open a portal on the floor of Wallace-18. I’m coming back through. This port is secure. I am no longer needed here.”

  Frig replied, “I’m afraid the portal is in use Sir. We are attempting to transport the injured back to the Suppressor. The Doctor has set up a triage area for those with immediate medical needs. We can only transport one at a time Sir. There are hundreds waiting to be sent. You may have to hold your position for some time Sir. Do you have any injured there?”

  I looked around at my squads and replied, “No, we don’t only minor bumps and bruises or dead. We
lost a couple men, but everyone else is in good shape. I have a torn up forearm, but I’ll live.”

  As I sat on a bench looking out of the glass window of the ingress control room, Frost came over and sat beside me.

  I spoke, “Not now Frost. I have too many things on my mind.”

  Frost smiled as she scooched closer and replied, “We have time Sir, and the troops need a little R&R.”

  I held my hand out, contacting her shoulder and preventing her further progress.”

  I replied, “Please stop the games Frost. We are at war and I need to focus on that and that alone. That’s an order. Leave me be.”

  Frost frowned, “Not a problem Mr. Grange. A girl knows when to give up and besides, I take following orders seriously Sir. I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

  I removed my arm from her shoulder. “Is there any way we can make use of those ships in the docking bay? They can be flown remotely from right here in the control room. We just need to figure out a use for them.”

  Frost thought for a moment. “Well, we took this port with ten squads. Could we fly one of those around to another port and do the same?”

  I replied, “I would have to believe we would get incinerated just after flying out of that egress tunnel. The Grid is surrounded by Dakar warships. And, they control the Grid defense guns.”

  Frost messed around with the view-screen on her arm pad. “The closest port is on Mako-7. Flight time would be under 30 seconds. I doubt the Dakar would react in that time. There are two Grid defense guns between here and there Sir. If we could disable them, a quick flight to Mako is possible.”

  I called the squad leaders over. “We need to evaluate our options here. We can either sit here useless, or get back in the fight where we can do some good. This port is locked down. The Dakar and the Durians will not control it, but they rule the space outside of it. Frost here has an idea about taking one or more of those defensive guns. Study the schematics we have and the results of the last scan and tell me if it is doable. Can either one or both of the two guns local to this port be taken or not?”