by Dark Knight
She rapidly deployed all of her warriors in a wide-spread, fan formation. True to their clan tradition, they all carried portable shuttle-craft shield generators, and she could see the all but invisible to the naked eye blobs of energy surrounding them. Each group of six warriors were shielded by one, and although expensive, that was probably the best way to board a ship with its point defense guns still active. Though the enemy was all but motionless now, Vala expected a reaction.
She got one, though not one that Terrans would commonly have responded with in that particular situation.
Their main hangar opened, spewing one single shuttle sized craft. Definitely of spacer design, the vessel descended upon her boarding teams, shredding two of them with accurate railgun fire. The ship was armed with two small railgun cannons that all but plowed through their energy shields. Vala angrily ordered her dropships to engage, but the spacer ship bypassed them like they weren’t even there, descending towards Carrola Prime’s surface on full engine burn. Utterly confused, the pirate Marine looked even more distraught after those wing mounted railguns suddenly rotated back and pulverized one of her dropships! They, of course, launched their long range missiles at the vessel as it rapidly moved out of their weapons’ range, only to see them too shot down in the distance by the spacer’s PD turret. Her pilots knew when not to act like idiots and disengaged, lugging their dropships back into position.
Flying into the starship’s PD range, she and her boarding teams were instantly met with... a whole bunch of nothing. No devastating barrage of railgun pellets, no lasers, missiles, nothing. She flinched every time when those local suns’ rays glanced off her target, before what was left of her teams had locked their mag-boots successfully on the enemy’s hull.
“Prepare for an ambush! All warriors move and take cover, Slayers, deploy your tower shields and surround the hangar – we are going to hack our way inside if need be!” – Vala linked her faceplate layout with one of the team’s scanning experts and inspected her data. The woman was a good computer specialist, and as always on such operations, Clanners had at least one Slider per team, as those warriors were called. Always lightly armed and armored, they carried either a snub gun or short vibro-blade. Some were sporting expensive thermo-optical-camouflage units (TOC), sneaking undetected through a ship’s airlock and hacking internal systems. Her warriors weren’t that well equipped, but still, they had good scanners and when she was told that they detected no remotely detonated devices, mines, or auto-turrets, Vala trusted them.
Four of her teams moved, now rapidly, taking positions around the main hangar bay doors of their target. She unlocked her mag-boots and was about to jump forward, when her warriors death screams echoed in her helmet’s link! Multiple chain blasts of directionally set up explosive devices were shredding them to bloody chunks. Vala noticed those were followed by thin megasteel wires that entangled more of her warriors, some of them even losing their limbs or being completely sliced apart. The directional force of those IED’s was so strong that the long metal wires acted like blades, killing even more of her marines!
Slowly the hangar door opened in the silence of space – beckoning, inviting her surviving warriors to venture inside and meet their doom...
Vala kept her composure. That starship was small and the crew complement were at best no larger than two dozen men and women. Spacers or no spacers, she still had three full platoons of hardened pirate warriors. The honor of her clan was at stake too. She ordered a cautious advance forward, and hiding behind their broad shields Vala’s heavy marines first leaped through the doors. Pieces of their mangled bodies, armored spacesuits, and shredded shields flew out together with exploding auto-railgun pellets. Somebody had unleashed the devastating firepower of a fighter size railgun set on full auto.
“Missiles! Fire six of your missiles inside, NOW!”
Her warriors followed the order and seconds later, six remotely controlled missiles flew inside the opened bay. Nothing happened. There were no explosions, and Vala, now much angrier than before, ordered a re-scan of that area. One of the closest sliders reported a jamming field set up throughout the entire hangar area, perfectly maintained and with its outer borders not leaving the bay – almost too perfect for it to be both set up, and regulated by one person alone. Someone had stolen the initiative from her and was slowly winning the battle for hull superiority!
Vala shouted new commands and directed one of her surviving sections to breach using the airlock, while she herself personally led two of her remaining platoons of Star marines. Instead of flying in front of that auto-railgun she set up a couple of breaching charges, fashioning for her warriors a new entrance into the bowels of that ship. Grinning behind his faceplate, her trusted slider was the first to die one second after his mag-boots locked onto the enemy floor-plating. A seemingly random floating piece of debris decapitated her warrior, and wielding a great vibro-sword, pinned two more, while somebody else shot at the marine next to her, disintegrating his helmet with one single shot!
More and more angry screams echoed in her helmet’s link. The team she’d sent to flank using the starship’s airlock reported that they are under attack by some strange, vicious animal, and if that wasn’t enough, faced an Avern’a witch head on. Vala ordered the rest of her warriors to pour in through the breach and enter the fray. The last platoon she at once called to her position because one glance at that “debris” was enough for Vala to fully commit what was left of her clan mates. The suit design and markings were widely known among the Clanners, and reviled. What was with that luck of hers today?! Not only did they have to meet with Spacers, but a member of the First Terran Marines! The stuff of nightmares, those monstrous warriors were probably the only one thing on the battlefield that brought true terror into a pirate’s heart. Another second was enough for Vala to inspect his suit closely and note the starship marking on its left pauldron. Eyes widening with now barely hatred and rage, she read the strange styled Terran letters who spelled – “INS Bremen”.
That was the name of one legendary Terran Destroyer who all but annihilated most of her own Clan’s fleet!
Somehow the Terran Star Marine had gained access to their comms frequency and Vala heard his terrifying, booming voice that reverberated throughout her very being:
“Listen to me pirate filth, you, who bear the markings of clan Aleska! I, Alric Von Englebert, Commander of the First Terran Star Marine Corps Battalion, spent years slaughtering your clan mates. They ran hapless before me, as I chased them throughout the stars, blade in hand! Face me now and face your better, all who dare call yourselves star marines!”
Vala did everything that she could and screamed new orders in the comm link, but her warriors were overcome with sudden, strange sluggishness. It was as if something, or someone, was seeping their very breaths away. She herself found it hard to breath, and yet her spacesuit face-plate showed no signs of battle damage, nor anything else that was physically affecting her. And then she slowly remembered that they were flanked. Turning around Vala ordered her third platoon to advance at their second opponent; after all it was only one man, albeit armed with a most horrid, terrifying disrupter weapon, his armor was not heavy. Looked strange though, seconds later after her face-plate locked on to his suit’s markings she realized the truth – he was a Terran lawman. She aimed and fired her laser rifle at him, ordering that her warriors did the same, but all of their beams vanished a step before hitting the target. Surrounded by a golden red halo of starlight, the Terran had absorbed the very heat from their attacks, and safely shielded shot dead two more of her warriors. What was left of their disintegrating helmets, faceplates and flesh floating before her, warped in a harrowing to behold, ugly mess.
A telepath!
She quickly gave command to her second platoon and they, power weapons in hand, charged the telepath in melee. Whoever this man was, they were warriors of the Aleska! Trained in space warfare, unflinchingly vicious and hardened in dozens of battles. No mere tel
epath, however strong he was, could instantly wipe out her underlings. And everyone knew – telepaths were cerebral fighters. Once swarmed in close range, her capable warriors should end the upstart quickly and then – then they would turn back to help her seal that star marine’s fate.
The Terran marine chose this moment to again yell in their comms:
“I can see all the service numbers of those looted lasers that you are so ineptly firing at me and my brother in arms. Those were taken in battle against armed free citizens, whom you miserable wretches had somehow bested. Yet now you are now facing a weapon! Do not cower, but stand and fight. I don’t wish to chase you pathetic cowards, not again...”
Her slider was dead, therefore Vala had no dedicated specialist that could counter this, not unless she herself disengaged. Not going to happen! That defiant human had to die, even if Vala would lose most of her warriors here, or float dead in the Holy Darkness herself – any survivors of ’Bremen’ were worth dead thousands of decats to hers, and other Pirate clans. Whoever survived was to become rich and powerful beyond their wildest imaginations, and probably influential enough so that the clans once more could be united! With Death itself standing before her and the warriors of Aleska, Vala steeled her shaking voice, screaming back at the Terran:
“Space take you human! I am Vala, Clan boss of Aleska, one who was never defeated in battle, not by your kind, nor anyone else! You will be surrounded and killed. Even if you are a space warrior of the dreaded ’Bremen’, you are alone!” – She aimed at him with her laser rifle and motioned to the rest of her platoon – “Forward warriors, encircle him and attack! Our death at his hands means glory and riches for the victorious survivors. Doom to those who defiled Our Space with their weakness!”
Raging and raving in their comms, her warriors threw themselves at their hated enemy, vibro axes swords and fists swinging, while the Rangers shot the star marine from afar –aiming carefully at his legs and arms. Pirates were adept in space warfare, they truly were, and yet the man albeit shot multiple times, refused to fall! Instead he took all of their hits and with suit opened to outer space, continuously slaughtering more and more of them, his wounds closing, surrounded by a pale whitish glow. Vala had also hit her mark a number of times already; two slagged power packs were floating beside her, and had this rifle been of their standard arms and not a Terran issue, it would be completely overheated and useless by now.
Something screamed from the inner-deep edge of her mind, part of the thought conditioning that every Aleska warrior had to undergo before donning the Clan’s spacesuit. Vala turned back with lightning fast speed, instinctively placing the weapon before her chest.
It was a molten hot fist that slammed into her! It hit the rifle and blasting it to pieces, mangled Vala’s chest-plate sending her flying back with such power, that her locked mag-boots ripped pieces from the floor-plating.
She could now clearly see that other man. Wearing a grey-colored, I-sec uniformed spacesuit, dragging one of her best warriors like a rag-doll with his hand impaled straight through the face-plate. The man was surrounded by star fire, and left behind molten steps on the floor-plating. Vala saw her clan mates’ decimated, burning remains floating behind him. Some of them were still twitching and she saw flames coming from inside their spacesuits... This time and from that range, her eyesight was unphased by the telepath’s might, and so she could see the big Terran letter omega painted in white on the right side of his chest-plate.
What?!
Even the devilish Psy-corps were here?! What manner of Star Deity had reviled her so, as to place such obstacles on her path? And as her back smashed hard upon the edges of the blast hole, Vala, screaming with pain all but lost consciousness from the hit. Yet she still reached for her pistol and with hazed sight aimed at the marine. Something again exploded on her chest and she suddenly flew back in outer space, the engines of her spacesuit roaring, all but uncontrollable. Screaming as hard as she could, Vala ordered:
“Retreat! All of you who can hear me still, run for your lives! The human Psy-corps are on that starship!” – pressing the override button on her suit’s belt, Vala ditched the whole main engine assembly, and floating aimlessly in outer space shot her emergency flare. What was left of her battered and disheartened warriors rapidly flew out of the entry hole, firing feverishly back with their particle-beam sidearms in an attempt to slow down their relentless, monstrous enemies. Her dropships instantly flew close, their pilots now in main gun range and with bouts from the rapid firings lasers blasted the battered hull of that starship, providing cover for their clan mates.
One of them though was not moving towards them but in an attempt to dock with the ship proper, flew ever-closer to their enemy’s airlock. From that close a distance Vala saw that there was somebody else on that dropship, dueling with her warriors. Wearing a flashy alien spacesuit and wielding a plasma saber, the man was all but toying with the crewmen of her craft. Floating beside its open side doors were some of their chopped remains, still trapped in the vessel’s gravity field, orbiting it like some grizzly satellites. The man even found a second to do a duelist salute while the dropship flew right past them, and since her own pilots were spooling their drives on full burn in the opposite direction, away from the ship, it was but a momentous exchange of looks.
They were stealing her dropship!
Vala’s short vengeful impulse to delay her own vessel’s escape was quickly vanquished as the human telepath and marine both exited their ship, stood at the edge of that hole, and under blistering fire from all of her warriors attacked again. The fourth dropship’s engine was engulfed with fire and a thick laser beam shot by that marine splintered it in two, melting its way starting from the cockpit, turning its entire hull into a fireball of drive plasma. The surviving warriors used their engines and tried boarding the next ship, but as they were flying away she heard them choking, suffocating to death over the comms.
________________________________________________________________________________
Her proud warriors, a full company of Clan Aleska star marines, was reduced to two battered platoons! The dropships were quickly speeding away from that Terran starship as suddenly one of the pilots exclaimed:
“Clan boss look at that, a TA escape pod with its occupant still alive inside!”
“What?! Who is this? Double check it! It might be a Terran trap, pilot!”
“No boss Vala, it is a taz’aran. I can see it with my own two eyes on the optics!”
“Grab it then, we will tug it behind us. Any pilot strong enough to survive in battle against the bloody Terrans is worth saving!”
The taz’aran space mecha pod securely grappled, both dropships changed their course and quickly vanished inside the debris field. There, Vala and her warriors pulled the ejected pilot, discarding the pod. Still alive but deathly hurt, the taz’aran had a fist size hole in his spacesuit’s chest-plate barely covered by sealant. Thankfully the suit he wore had a medical system integrated and emergency vacfoam dispenser. Both of his hands were turned into charred stumps, as he instinctively raised them up to protect himself. A thoughtful fellow this taz’aran pilot, and seemingly well trained. Lucky too... well, at least luckier than her, that is.
Vala looked around and inspected her warrior’s faces. All were as disheartened as angry, some even enraged. They too, realized that the Terrans had goaded them into a trap! A simple one, yet all effective traps were simple. The explosive devices they mined their hull with were primitive, detonated not by wireless signal or expensive sensors, but wires.
Wires that her own warriors had probably tripped when she gave them the order to advance. And that marine, commander Alric, he pulled all of their attacks towards him, while the rest of his crewmates were able to kill her warriors piece-meal! That wasn’t in any way close to the overly brutal Terran space warfare tactics but in fact was brilliant, as it allowed four to stand in the way of her whole company and be victorious in the end. What was worse, t
he Terrans weren’t exactly human, not all of them.
That marine! Vala was sure of it now – he was a half-Aryan monster! That was why he was so confident and sure when drawing fire at himself. The accursed Aryans were able to heal their wounds by use of unholy magics. Clan legends spoke of Aryans calling them Life-stealers, as it was known that they leeched the very lives of everyone else in the Galaxy to extend their own, accursed existence.
Filthy space vampires they were, all of them!
Vala was not surprised to find out that one, or perhaps more, of the vile Terran star marines on board of ’Bremen’ was a foul Aryan. Had it been he, by himself, Vala would’ve never given the order to retreat. Even if only a handful of her brave warriors had survived, even if she herself had died, that wouldn’t matter. Only victory against the Terran defilers mattered! But Clanners were, as always, pragmatic to their very core. What was to be the point if they should fall, all of them, and not vanquish one of their most hated foes?! Nothing.
Better yet to retreat now and fight another day. A day for which Vala would be well prepared.
The minutes slowly passed and her two dropships finally reached the rendezvous coordinates. Turning from behind one large, molten hull debris, Vala’s gaze finally locked at the silhouette of her mothership. She gasped in shock but quickly took a hold of herself and gave orders to dock. All was not yet lost. The vessel was not destroyed. Heavily damaged, yes, but her employer was still alive, and she’d left her enemy’s starship in shambles. The sensors of her dropship had detected a wide and expanding radiation field of deadly potency. What was left in her craft’s fuel tanks she used to push her mothership away from it, somewhat prolonging the lives of those taz’aran crewmates who were surely about to die because of it. The ’Empress Throne’ had lost her main reactor core it seemed and blasted badly with some sort of anti-capital ship weapon. Connecting with her still alive warrior on the bridge, Vala linked her comms and reported in: