“Lies! The so-called Four Horsemen are as bad as you traitors! They left us when we needed them most!”
She sighed and shook her head. “You’re behind on the news, Captain, and we’re not traitors. I don’t care what propaganda you’ve heard or have been spewing. If you want, I can have Captain Sloan send you an information dump of the latest news from Earth.”
“Right, and let you send some kind of program to make our ship shut down or something? No chance! I’m going to destroy your transport, then I’ll deal with you.”
“You’d better bring professionals if you survive that long. I don’t have time for rookies. Goodbye, Captain.” Moore shut down the transmission. “He’s going to die today,” she said to Jeremy.
“But he has a frigate! You just have a transport!” he cried as a tear rolled down his cheek. He’d finally realized the gravity of his situation.
“Not just a transport, Jeremy. An Intergalactic Haulers transport. Do you know what we do? The kinds of situations we go into?” She shook her head. “A frigate isn’t a match for the Stone Mountain, I’m afraid. If he’d attacked from range with missiles, maybe he’d have had a chance.”
“It’s a laser frigate,” Jeremy said quietly.
“It’s about to be a ball of plasma, Jeremy.”
“You’ve got to tell him! Stop him!”
“I can’t do that. Give your uncle a tactical edge? No, he’s going to learn the hard way. Don’t screw with the Haulers.”
“Dropship’s pacified, LT,” McKnight said over the speakers. “It’s not spaceworthy.”
“So you’re stuck here with us,” Jeremy said sullenly, staring at the ground in front of him again.
“We’ll see,” she said.
“Want me to bandage up your shoulder?” he asked suddenly.
She blinked and glanced at her shoulder, then shook her head. “I’ve had worse,” she said and knocked on her cybernetic left leg.
* * *
Intergalactic Haulers Transport Stone Mountain, Zaotov-3 Orbit
“Frigate is adjusting course, and the shuttle bay doors are opening,” Aruan reported.
“Fire all weapons,” Sloan ordered.
Aruan checked her target points for the tenth time, and then activated the weapons systems. Along the length of the Stone Mountain, laser and particle accelerator arrays opened fire. With the range and plenty of time to calculate the impact points, the result was devastating.
One moment a shuttle was deploying from the frigate; the next moment the ship had a hole clear through from one side to the other. In the middle was what had been the fusion plants. They weren’t destroyed so much as they’d simply ceased to exist. The shields on the frigate were weak and only stopped the first few pulses from the assault. The rest cut through the hull like a hot knife through butter.
The crew members close to the impact point never knew what hit them. The rest of the frigate was intact, but without power, and more importantly, life support.
“Cease fire,” Sloan ordered into the silence of the bridge. They’d been in more than a few combat situations, but this had been the most one-sided battle they’d ever fought. The enemy frigate never even got a shot off.
As they watched, explosions went off along the length of the frigate, followed by a massive blast at the center of the ship. The Stone Mountain shuddered as pieces of the ship struck them, and damage indicators lit up.
“Damage report!” Sloan demanded.
“Damn shrapnel came in like slugs. We’ve got a few decks open to space, casualties. Damage control teams are on the way,” Wilson responded immediately.
“We good to launch the shuttle?”
Wilson tapped on his console a few times, then nodded. “Yes, sir. Minimal damage to the bay. It’s operable.”
“Send it down to get our people; send medics, as well.”
“Prisoners?”
Sloan considered for a moment. He was tempted to leave them there to rot, but he sighed and nodded. “Bring back anyone who wishes to surrender. Leave them there if they want to stay. Lieutenant Mitchell, tell them we’re on the way.”
“Yes, sir!”
* * *
Zaotov-3, Surface
“Thanks, Omar. We’ll be waiting,” Moore answered after Lieutenant Mitchell notified her that the assault shuttle was on the way down. “Decision time, Jeremy. You can come with us, or stay here. The same goes for your friends. Frankly, this doesn’t seem like the kind of place I’d want to settle down, but it’s your call.”
“What will you do with us?” Jeremy asked sullenly.
“That’ll be up to Captain Sloan, but you did shoot me, in case I need to remind you. Not to mention you killed a damn good trooper and shot down a dropship. You’re not exactly in a situation to bargain for leniency. Frankly, I’m surprised he didn’t just order me to leave you down here.”
The door opened, and Corporal McKnight walked in and closed the door behind him. “Well, this is cozy. What’s the plan, LT?”
“Shuttle’s on the way down. If any of the prisoners want to come along, they can.”
He nodded. “Well, he’s your only prisoner. None of the others made it,” he said with a frown. McKnight didn’t like needless deaths.
“Damn,” Moore swore.
Jeremy closed his eyes, and the tears came in earnest. His chest heaved as he sobbed.
“That’s the major?” McKnight asked.
Moore nodded.
“Right. Okay, I’ll get the team ready for evac.”
“Come with us, kid. You’ll never survive down here alone,” Moore suggested.
He wiped his eyes with his sleeve and pushed himself up to his feet. He looked at Lieutenant Moore, and his mouth worked, but he couldn’t find words. Eventually, he nodded.
* * *
Intergalactic Haulers Transport Stone Mountain, Hyperspace
“Good job down there, Lieutenant,” Captain Sloan said. He’d had her come up to his office once they had repaired the ship enough to get back into hyperspace toward Azure.
“Thank you, sir,” she responded. “I just wish we hadn’t lost Anita…Specialist Freeman.”
He nodded. “I know. How’s Corporal Mack?”
“Still in the med bay, sir. Doctor Wells said he should make a full recovery.”
Sloan tilted his head and leaned back in his chair. “What’s on your mind, Lieutenant?”
“What are your plans with the prisoner, sir?”
“That. Well, he is responsible for killing one of your troopers, shooting down my dropship, killing its pilot, and shooting you.”
“Sir, this is nothing,” she said and gestured to her shoulder.
“No, it’s not nothing, Lieutenant. And to your question, I haven’t decided yet. You have a suggestion?”
“Give him a second chance, sir.”
He pursed his lips. “Second chance at what?”
“Being a good trooper.”
“You want to recruit him?” Sloan asked, surprised.
“I want to let him pay for what he’s done constructively, sir. I just get the feeling he’s never had a chance.”
“Hm. I’ll take it under advisement. Thank you, Lieutenant.”
She stood and saluted, then pushed her way out of the office.
* * *
Intergalactic Haulers Transport Stone Mountain, Azure Orbit
Captain Sloan, Commander Wilson, Lieutenant Moore, and Doctor Wells were all waiting when Sergeant Carrie Baker walked off the shuttle that had brought her back to the Stone Mountain. She was back in her Golden Horde uniform and looked as good as new.
She snapped to attention at the bottom of the ramp. “Permission to come aboard, sir?”
“Permission granted, Sergeant. Welcome back. Good to see you on your feet.”
“Good to be back on my feet, sir,” she said as she cautiously stepped onto the deck and the magnetic boots locked down.
“It’s going to take a while,” Doctor Wells sai
d. “You’ve got a lot of therapy in front of you, Sergeant.”
“You must be Doctor Wells; I recognize your voice,” Carrie said with a smile.
Wells nodded. “I am. I have the report from the clinic…it’s amazing.”
“Guess I’m lucky the colonel wanted me back.”
Sloan cleared his throat, and the rest of the welcoming committee left the bay. He walked over and offered his arm. “Disengage those boots, I’ll get you to your quarters.”
She flushed, embarrassed by her weakness, but did as he suggested. “Thank you, sir,” she said as she took his arm.
He nodded and walked as she floated along beside him. “It wasn’t Colonel Enkh.”
“Sir?”
“I’m not sure if he meant to tell you this or not, but…well, I’ll answer for it if he doesn’t like it. It was Captain Nicolos who paid for all this.”
“Paid for…all what?”
Sloan grinned. “He personally contracted us to bring you here and paid for your treatment at the clinic.”
“How did he—”
“I have no idea,” Sloan interrupted her question. “And I’m not about to ask. None of my business. Ah, here we are. Your quarters. I’ve set you up with an officer’s bunk. The gym is right down the corridor, which I’m told you’ll need for your rehab.”
He pushed the hatch open on the small room, and Jeremy snapped to attention. “This young man is Jeremy. He’ll be your personal assistant and will fetch anything you ask for while we get you back to Earth. He’s paying off a bit of a debt to my crew and me.”
“Sir, I’m fine with a standard bunk. I don’t want to put anyone out,” she said, flustered.
“You’re not, Sergeant. I’m afraid I lost the woman this bunk belonged to in an engagement. The details aren’t important. You need anything at all, you let Jeremy here know, and he’ll take care of it. Get some rest, Sergeant. I’ll get you back home. I’m sure Colonel Enkh needs all her people right now.” Sloan nodded and left Carrie floating there in the room with Jeremy.
“So,” she asked as she looked over the young man wearing a uniform with no rank insignia. “What’s your story?”
* * * * *
Alex Rath Bio
Alex Rath is a long-time fan of science fiction and fantasy books and gaming, going back to his youth when he started playing Dungeons & Dragons, Traveler, and BattleTech, among many others.
From there, he took his creativity to more online games than can be remembered by writing character backgrounds, stories, and game-related fiction for MUDs and graphical MMOs. Now, he channels his creativity into books.
In addition to his gaming background, Alex has been an IT professional for 25+ years. He has worked as a programmer/developer, webmaster, information security specialist, and solutions design specialist. This background allows him to incorporate some technical savvy into his stories, while his experience interacting with non-technical customers allows him to do so in a way that isn’t confusing or ‘too technical’ for a layperson to understand.
Alex is enjoying writing in the Four Horsemen Universe, the Fallen World Universe, and the Salvage Title Universe. He is also working on new universes of his own creation.
Alex lives in Columbia, South Carolina with his family. Follow Alex on Facebook, https://www.facebook.com/alexrathauthor, or his website, https://alexrathauthor.com/.
* * * * *
Freedom of Maneuver by Kevin Ikenberry and Casey Moores
The ferocity of the attack stunned Maya Inoue. All the Marauders’ intelligence suggested the Avaka rarely carried weapons and preferred close quarters combat with their opponents. Reports discussing swarm tactics also compared the unarmored mammalian anteaters to the giant armored spiders known as Tortantulas. While mercenary units of all species feared the giant spiders, the Avaka rarely received their due. The Marauders had laughed at the comparison. No one laughed as Private Andrew’s screams blotted out the frequency.
The Avaka swarmed over the downed Mk 6 CASPer. Their razor teeth gouged the armor as if it were tin, and the crazed mammals burrowed inward to rend Andrews apart with crunches and splatters. As she raised her hand cannons to fire at them, sudden memories of hacking her parents’ Tri-V and watching horror movies at the age of ten filled her mind. One movie, the last she’d watched until several years later, featured a swarm of rats chewing their way through a crowd of victims. She shuddered at the memory, but her training and experience as a mercenary had changed such entertainment to status quo within a few months.
The image of Hex, her lover, suffering the same fate flashed across her mind. She shook aside the thought. Hex was several hundred meters to the south with First Squad, and as far as she knew, in a much less desperate situation.
He’s fine, Maya.
You still need to talk to him.
Now’s not the time.
Maya shook her head violently and concentrated on marching the CASPer forward. Hand cannons blazing, she carved through the anteater-like aliens piled on top of her dying soldier. As she did, her MAC cannon swung around to her line of sight and unloaded on the horde flanking the doomed CASPer.
“Hammer, Ghost Two. One KIA. Withdrawing in your direction, over.” Instead of charging into the mass of Avaka, she held her ground. If she didn’t change the withdrawal plan, the wave would engulf her squad in a matter of minutes.
I’m not waiting for Hammer to make up his mind.
She selected her squad frequency. “Alpha Team, prepare to bound forty meters north. Bravo Team, covering fire. Bound!”
“Moving!” Sergeant Lam called from Ghost One-Three. A sudden thundering noise followed the transmission as the pair withdrew. Avaka tracers carved into the sky, but her feed showed no casualties. She rapidly popped three K-bombs across the line in front of them. The grenades finished Andrews and flattened a dozen meters’-worth of the inbound flood.
“Set!” Lam called over the frequency.
“Bravo Team, bound!” Maya called as she staggered back. Another thunder of jets announced the departure of the next pair. Her ammunition and weapon status indicators flickered from green to yellow.
“Angel’s Three and Four rolling in on the tree line with nape,” she heard Maven report on Lemieux’s command channel. The flyers screamed along the thick-forested hills east of their defensive line. The close air support aircraft would burn a line of napalm and stem the flow of mutant murder rats.
“Bravo Team, set,” the next team reported. As the closest anteater scrambled within a few meters of her, Maya fired her jets and jumped back behind her squad.
“Ghost Two, withdraw another four hundred meters,” called the Marauder’s commander, Marc Lemieux. “Pull back to us. Once you reach the line, jump across us to the far side. We’ll be waiting.”
“Roger,” Maya answered. Second Squad continued bounding backward toward whatever surprise her boss had prepared. Short on ammunition, she carefully picked her targets and aimed deliberately. Her squad’s weapons kept the enemy at a comfortable distance. Occasionally an Avaka laser flashed. A few pulses hit their targets, but none caused any serious damage. If they carried anything heavier, none of the Marauders had witnessed it yet.
On one particular bound, she risked a look toward Hex’s area of responsibility and jumped far lower than she expected. Touching down on severely sloping ground, Maya almost tumbled backward down the hill, but lifted the CASPer’s toes and pitched the machine forward before it did. Under control, she glanced up to see the squad arrive in Lemieux’s valley. They took one more collective bound backward and over the line abreast formation of tanks.
“Second Squad is clear,” Maya reported and changed frequencies. “Cease fire. Reload and get ready for the next move.”
The tide of frenzied Avaka poured over the ridgeline her squad had just occupied. The mass rolled forward, down the hill, and directly at the four tanks parked at the base of the depression. Her instincts screamed at her commander to fire at the encroaching enemy
, but her head told her he was correct to wait. The distance between the anteaters and the tanks diminished rapidly.
All at once, the tanks belched immense loads of flechette into the ranks of the Avaka. The first twenty ranks of unarmored, furry aliens disappeared in an instant. Fur, blood, bone, and viscera rippled back along the line. Undaunted, the enemy mercs surged forward over the mess. After another moment, the tanks again unloaded their canisters of death into the next wave. And again. And again.
Maya and her squad calmly popped the few survivors of each blast. In under a minute, the flood stopped. The crazed beasts had thrown themselves against the wall of shrapnel until there were no more. Their battle lust eliminated any reason.
“Marauders, we stopped the middle thrust, all squads report in,” Lemieux called out.
“Hammer, this is Ghost One-Five, we’re still in the thick, pulling toward Panzer Platoon,” an unexpected voice called out.
That wasn’t Hex.
“SITREP. Where’s Ghost One?” Lemieux called over the frequency. There was no response, and Maya felt her blood run cold.
“Hammer, Ghost One is down.”
Hex! No!
* * *
Hex Alison nestled his face into his lover’s long brown hair. In contrast to his unkempt, longish mane, her clean hair smelled wonderful. Had he the option to bury his face in her hair and live there for the rest of his life, he would have traded the mercenary life away in a heartbeat. She almost elbowed him in the nose when she sleepily raised an arm to separate him from her hair.
“Dammit, Maya! You’re gonna knock me outta the bed,” Hex protested. “Can I at least have some blanket back?”
“No,” she said curtly, somehow combining cute and callous in the single word. He struggled, pulled at the sheets, and unsuccessfully attempted to make himself comfortable again. The bunk was tiny enough, definitely not designed for two, and the magnetized edges of the sheet alone weren’t enough to hold him against the mattress in microgravity. However, as had now become routine, Maya monopolized the blanket.
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