A Show of Force

by Ryk Brown

  Sergeant Lazo just shook his head in dismay at Sergeant Torwell’s need to continually talk. “I wonder if your friend Dunny says the same thing about you?”

  “Fifteen to go.”

  “You see?” Torwell exclaimed. “I told you the Ghatazhak have a sense of humor. Sarcastic as all hell, but a sense of humor nonetheless.”

  “Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to provoke a Ghatazhak?” the lieutenant wondered.

  “Ten to go.”

  “Ghatazhak,” Sergeant Lazo called out, “make ready.”

  The other four Ghatazhak soldiers checked their safeties and powered up their energy rifles. Sergeant Torwell powered up his energy weapons turret as well.

  On the flight deck, the copilot continued to watch the jump status displays. “Five to go, twenty-five seconds.”

  The lieutenant shifted in the pilot’s seat, preparing himself for whatever they would face when they came out of the jump series.

  “Three to go; fifteen.” Ensign Latfee continued to watch the jump status displays, checking that each position check between jumps showed green, indicating that they were on course as planned. “Ten seconds.”

  Sergeant Torwell put his hands on the turret controls, readying himself for action.

  “Last jump in three……two……one……jumping.”

  A second later, the shuttle’s windows became clear again. Before them was Weldon, the same planet near which they had released Lieutenant Dorn and his squad of Ghatazhak for a five-day cold-coast and space jump insertion to the surface. Above the planet was a massive debris field, with another even larger one just beyond the first and at a slightly higher orbit. Flashes of blue-white light appeared intermittently in the distance as Falcons and other jump shuttles jumped in and out of the immediate area. A large explosion was seen to their port side, followed by an even bigger flash of jump light.

  “Jump series complete,” the copilot reported.

  “Damn!” the sergeant exclaimed as he witnessed the battle taking place over Weldon, not more than a hundred kilometers away.

  “Position verified,” the copilot added, “We’re right on target.”

  “Pitching down,” the lieutenant announced.

  “Come to course, two five five, twelve down relative.”

  “Jung fighters! Port side!” the sergeant reported as he swung his turret to port and opened fire.

  “Two five five, twelve down,” the pilot confirmed.

  “Where the hell did they come from?” the copilot wondered as he glanced at his threat display.

  “Hold your fire!” the pilot ordered as he brought the shuttle onto a new heading in preparation for their next jump.

  “Jumper One Zero, Falcon One Four!” a voice called urgently over the comms. “Hold your fire! We’re on the tail of the inbounds! Break right and down relative!”

  “Jumper One Zero, breaking right and down,” the copilot replied as the pilot rolled the shuttle to starboard and pushed the nose down as they turned away.

  “Goddamn it, Torwell!” the pilot exclaimed as he maneuvered the shuttle out of the line of fire of the incoming Falcons.

  “Fuck, L-T! They were coming right at us!”

  “You knew there would be friendlies out there! Check your threat board before you fire!”

  Three explosions just aft and to port of the shuttle lit up the inside of the sergeant’s bubble as the Falcons destroyed the Jung fighters threatening the combat jump shuttle.

  “Three down!” the pilot of the Falcon reported. “Jumper One Zero, you’re clear for insertion, but make it quick. There are more bandits in the area.”

  “Jumper One Zero copies,” the copilot replied. “Thanks.”

  “Give me a new heading,” the lieutenant urged.

  “We’re not that far off,” Ensign Latfee replied. “Pitch back up four, and come left to two two zero. We’ll be a little shallow but still good for insertion at alpha four.”

  “Up four and come to two two zero,” the pilot replied as he brought the shuttle back on course. “How late are we going to be?”

  “Twenty seconds at the most,” Ensign Latfee replied. “We can increase speed to make up for it if you want.”

  “We’re already going to be coming in fast as it is.”

  “Adjusted jump course plotted and ready,” the copilot reported.

  “Very well.”

  “Five seconds to jump,” Ensign Latfee added.

  “Ghatazhak, be ready,” Sergeant Lazo prompted.

  “Three……two……one……jumping.”

  The jump shuttle’s windows again cycled from clear to opaque, and then back again. The shuttle lurched violently as it suddenly found itself plowing through Weldon’s atmosphere. Lying before them was one of Weldon’s capital cities, Parando, its lights twinkling below them as they fell from the sky. The pilot immediately pitched their nose up, and the copilot swung their engine pods downward and brought all four thrust levers to full power in order to slow their descent.

  “I’ve got more inbound, four o’clock high!” Sergeant Torwell announced as he glanced down at his threat display. He looked to his left as more flashes of blue-white light reported the arrival of the other combat jump shuttles. “I’m not picking up any Falcons on them!” he added as he swung his guns to starboard.

  “I’m not seeing any either!” the lieutenant confirmed.

  “Jumper One Zero, enemy fast movers at our four high!” the pilot broadcast over the combat channel. “Engaging!”

  “Open up, Torwell!” the lieutenant ordered.

  Red energy bolts passed just over the top of the sergeant’s head as he brought his guns to bear and opened fire. An explosion rocked the shuttle from behind as he continued to fire. Four distant lights in the sky grew larger as the Jung fighters dove in on them, their energy cannons blazing away.

  “Where the hell did they come from?” the lieutenant wondered as he started an evasive maneuver. “The attack only started two minutes ago!”

  “They must have already been in the air!” the copilot surmised. “A patrol or something!”

  One of the growing dots of light became enveloped in a ball of orange-yellow fire as the sergeant’s energy weapon found its first victim.

  “Fuck yeah!”

  “Fifty meters!” the copilot called out as the pilot swung the ship back around to the left and continued his descent toward their assigned insertion point. “Twenty seconds!” he called out, turning to face aft toward the Ghatazhak troops about to deploy. “Pop the doors!”

  Another explosion rocked the shuttle. Sergeant Torwell glanced down at his threat display as he continued to fire. “Shit! Two of our shuttles are gone!” he exclaimed. “Where the hell are the Falcons?”

  “Just keep firing!” the lieutenant ordered.

  “Twenty meters! Ten seconds!” the copilot reported.

  Sergeant Lazo reached over and unlocked the starboard door next to him, allowing it to slide aft into the side of the ship. At the same time, the Ghatazhak soldier in the aft-facing seat on the port side did the same. A rush of air filled the interior of the shuttle, swirling forward into the cockpit as well as up into the sergeant’s gun turret bubble. The squad leader looked out at the streets below. They were the first wave of troops to hit the ground, and although there would not yet be significant resistance, they would be on their own until the next wave of troops arrived a few minutes later.

  Bolts of energy from the diving fighters streaked past them on all sides, slamming into the street and buildings below. The fact that the Jung fighter pilots seemed to be unconcerned with collateral damage to the civilian population told the Ghatazhak much about the forces they were about to face.

  “Stand ready!” Sergeant Lazo ordered. The remaining members of his team stood, hanging onto the overhead rail to maintain their balance as their shuttle swerved to miss a building on its way down.

  “Three……two……one…… Go! Go! Go!” the copilot ordered.

 
; The Ghatazhak soldiers jumped from the open doorways, one after the other, falling the last ten meters to the surface. They hit the ground running, the legs of their suits tensing to absorb the force of landing. The Ghatazhak immediately headed for the cover of nearby buildings, as the Jung fighters were still diving on the eight remaining combat jumper shuttles directly overhead.

  The copilot looked out his window at the Ghatazhak soldiers running for cover, counting them and confirming that all five had left the shuttle. “All five on the ground!”

  “Full power!” the lieutenant ordered.

  Ensign Latfee pushed all four thrust levers forward, and the shuttle began to accelerate forward and upward. The lieutenant rolled slightly to the right and pulled their nose around, steering the shuttle around and as close to the buildings on their right as possible to shield them from incoming fire.

  Sergeant Torwell’s line of fire was temporarily interrupted by the maneuver, the bolts of energy from his twin barrels slamming into the upper edge of the building to starboard.

  “Pitching up!” the lieutenant announced as he pulled their nose up slightly. “Micro-jump us out of the line of fire! Quick, before we come out from behind the building!”

  The copilot checked their trajectory and angle of climb, ensuring that there was nothing in their current flight path to block their safe jump line. “Jumping!” he announced as he pressed the pre-programmed escape jump button.

  The windows of the shuttle turned opaque again, clearing up a second later. The shuttle crew found themselves now ten kilometers to the east of their original position, and at an altitude of several thousand meters instead of twenty meters.

  “Goddamn!” Sergeant Torwell exclaimed, now that he had stopped firing.

  “Coming about,” the pilot announced as he started his turn.

  “What?” the sergeant asked, surprised.

  “We have to provide cover for the first wave of troop shuttles,” the copilot explained. “I guess you missed that part of the briefing as well.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Just keep our six clear, Torwell,” the lieutenant instructed. “We’ll handle anything in front with our forward guns.”

  “Where the hell are the Falcons?” the sergeant wondered.

  “I’ve got them on long range,” Ensign Latfee reported. “They’re on their way to intercept more fast movers inbound from the south.”

  “Jump flashes!” the lieutenant announced, pointing slightly right of their course and below them.

  Ten more jump flashes appeared spread out below and ahead of them, as the larger cargo shuttles that carried twenty Ghatazhak soldiers each prepared to deliver their forces to the city streets below.

  “I’ve got four more Jung fighters inbound, headed for the troop shuttles,” Ensign Latfee warned.

  “Plot me an intercept,” Lieutenant Kainan ordered.

  “Are you crazy?” the ensign asked. “We can’t keep up with those fighters.”

  “We don’t have to!” the lieutenant explained. “We just have to shake them up a bit, keep them more concerned with us than those troop shuttles!”

  “But…”

  “Just be ready on that escape jump button!” the lieutenant added.

  “I’ve got two more coming in from the west,” Sergeant Torwell announced as he rotated his guns aft. “They’ll be on us in one minute.”

  “Just keep them off our tail,” the lieutenant urged as he brought the ship around and dove toward the troop shuttles landing on the city streets below and a few kilometers ahead of them.

  “I’ll try,” the sergeant replied as he opened fire.

  “What are you doing?” Ensign Latfee exclaimed. “They’re not even in range yet!”

  “I’m just trying to scare them!” the sergeant replied as he continued firing.

  Ensign Latfee looked forward again. “There!” he said, pointing to their right. “Four engines! Diving toward the troop shuttles!”

  “Are we at full power?” the pilot demanded.

  “Yes, sir. Forward guns are online and ready to fire. Range in twenty seconds.”

  “Those fighters will be on them in fifteen.”

  “Troop shuttles, Combat Jumper One Zero. Fast movers at your five high. Ten seconds out. Get your troops on the ground and jump out!” Ensign Latfee looked at his threat board again. “Ten seconds to range.”

  The lieutenant pressed the trigger, opening up with their side-mounted forward guns.

  “What are you doing?” the copilot wondered.

  “Trying to scare them,” the lieutenant replied. He glanced at his copilot. “Hey, maybe they’re wrong about the effective range of our guns,” he added with a shrug.

  Flashes of red light could be seen several kilometers ahead of them as the Jung fighters began firing on the troop jump shuttles depositing their forces on the ground below. One of the shuttles took a direct hit, causing their aft starboard engine pod to come apart. The sudden loss of lift caused that corner to drop sharply, and the troop shuttle rotated to the left, its aft end swinging around to the right and striking a building as it fell to the ground. The impact broke it apart and its fuel tanks ruptured, spilling propellant that immediately caught fire and exploded, killing all twenty Ghatazhak aboard as well as the shuttle’s flight crew.

  “Range!” Ensign Latfee announced. Their weapons fire found a target, ripping a Jung fighter into pieces. The remaining Jung fighters broke off their attack, peeling off to either side as they pitched up and went to full power to climb. One by one, the troop shuttles finished depositing their troops onto the surface, and quickly disappeared in flashes of blue-white light.

  “Pitching up,” the lieutenant reported as he pulled the shuttle’s nose up toward the night sky.

  “We’ve still got two on our ass!” Sergeant Torwell, reminded him.

  “Micro-jump us out of range,” the lieutenant ordered.

  “Jumping!” Ensign Latfee replied. The windows went opaque for a moment.

  “Plot us a jump back to Porto Santo,” the lieutenant ordered. “We have to pick up another load and return.”

  “We have to do that again?” the sergeant asked, genuinely shocked by the news.

  “Yup.”

  “How many times?”

  “Until they tell us to stop,” the lieutenant replied.

  Commander Telles studied the first reports from the ground attack on Weldon being transmitted from the jump shuttles as they arrived at Porto Santo. “We lost thirty Ghatazhak and three ships and crews in the first wave?”

  “I’m afraid so,” Master Sergeant Jahal answered. “It appears that the Jung forces on Weldon live among the locals, rather than being clustered in centralized locations. While the Aurora was successful in destroying their bases from orbit, troops are appearing in small squads all over the capital city. As more of these squads report in, the squads will become platoons, and so on.”

  “What about their air cover?”

  “They had three squadrons in the air at the time of the attack. One was in orbit doing training, the other two were doing exercises in the lower atmosphere. Just bad timing, I suppose. Had they not been in the air, our losses at this point would have been minimal.”

  “Their air bases have been destroyed, yes?” Commander Telles inquired.

  “Yes, the latest field reports via comm-drone have confirmed that. The Falcons are now engaging the last of their fighters. The skies should be ours within the hour,” Master Sergeant Jahal assured his commander.

  “The tactical environment will be fluid, and difficult to manage,” Commander Telles said. “We will go now, rather than waiting for the fourth wave.”

  “Without the armored command bunkers?” the master sergeant wondered, appearing concerned.

  “Our forces on the ground need centralized coordination now, not later. Without it, they could be overrun by these Jung bezattes. Bump the team from Combat Jumper One,” Commander Telles ordered. “Our team will take their place.”


  “Jumper One did not return,” Master Sergeant Jahal replied. “They were destroyed in orbit before they reached the surface.”

  “Whichever shuttle is closest, then,” Commander Telles said as he grabbed his energy rifle and helmet and headed for the door. “We leave now.”

  “Yes, sir,” Master Sergeant Jahal acknowledged.

  “Lieutenant Morley, take command here. We will rendezvous with the command bunker once it is in place.”

  “Yes, Commander,” the lieutenant answered.

  Master Sergeant Jahal followed his commander out of the command center and down the corridor toward the exit, picking up his own rifle and helmet along the way. “Forgive me, Commander, but is it wise for the commander of all Ghatazhak forces in the Sol sector to enter into a combat zone that has not yet been secured? Were you to fall…”

  “Then another would take my place,” Commander Telles replied as he opened the door and stepped out into the light of day. He paused, turning back toward his friend and master sergeant. “I cannot lead these forces from a secure bunker in a safe zone, Jahal. You and I both know this. I must taste the battle, witness the skills of the enemy first hand. Only then can I develop an accurate understanding of the enemy’s strengths and weaknesses.”

  “Or, you could listen to the reports of your platoon commanders,” Master Sergeant Jahal said.

  “That is the way of fat, old generals,” Commander Telles retorted as he turned to continue toward the nearest landing spot as a newly returning combat jump shuttle came in for a landing in front of him. “I am not yet that man,” he insisted, “and I don’t plan on becoming him any time soon.”

  Sergeant Torwell slid the starboard door open to allow the next group of five Ghatazhak soldiers to board. “Let’s go!” he yelled out at the soldiers standing just off the landing pad.

  “Wait!” an officer yelled from behind the men.

  Sergeant Torwell looked toward the officer, his eyes turning wide. “Oh, shit,” he said over his helmet comms.

  “What?” Ensign Latfee wondered.

  “Is that Telles?” the sergeant wondered.

  Ensign Latfee turned and looked out the window to his right. “Uh, yeah, it is.”