by Ryk Brown
“Affirmative,” Loki replied. “I’ve got all eight missile batteries, selected and locked in. Hold her steady while I launch busters.”
“Just make it quick, will you? I wanna get out of this crap.”
“This crap is obscuring their sensors, so they can’t see us.”
“I’m pretty sure they saw us jump in,” Josh insisted.
“Weapons bay open. Launching eight.” Loki pressed the launch button on his weapons panel, sending eight buster missiles dropping out of the Super Falcon’s oversized weapons bay on their underside. Each missile fired its propulsion system, extended its maneuvering winglets, and raced away from the Super Falcon.
Josh glanced outside, still seeing only the blue-gray fog. “Did they launch? I can’t see a fucking thing!”
“Eight busters away, running hot and true, with target locks. First impact in twenty seconds,” Loki assured him.
“Great,” Josh replied. “Turning to second target. Please tell me it isn’t in this muck again.”
“It isn’t,” Loki promised. “Jump point in five seconds.”
“Jump complete,” Mister Riley reported from the Aurora’s navigation station. “Entering orbit over Chiya.”
“First firing point in twenty seconds,” Jessica announced. “Locking ventral quads on targets one and two.”
“Detecting multiple explosions on the surface, directly under, and aft of us, to either side,” Mister Navashee reported.
“Looks like our Super Falcons are doing their job,” Nathan said.
“Five seconds,” Jessica added.
“Fire when ready,” Nathan instructed.
Jessica waited until they reached their optimal firing position, then activated the first firing sequences. “Firing on targets one and two.”
“More explosions on the surface,” Mister Navashee reported. “Super Falcons are pressing the attack aft of us in the opposite direction, as planned. I’m counting twenty-four targets destroyed so far.”
“Firing sequence complete,” Jessica reported.
“Scanning target areas,” Mister Navashee said. “Both targets are destroyed.”
“Decelerating,” the helmsman reported.
“Jump point to secondary target area in twenty seconds,” Mister Riley announced.
“Comms, notify flight ops to launch the CNS shuttles after the next jump,” Nathan instructed.
“Aye, sir.”
“Starting to pick up a little heat on our ventral shields, Captain,” the systems officer reported.
“Five seconds left in the decel burn,” Mister Chiles promised.
“Ready to jump,” Mister Riley added.
“Killing the decel drive,” the helmsman said.
“Jumping.”
Nathan sat calmly as the blue-white jump flash washed over them, and the Aurora jumped forward from its new, lower orbital altitude. It followed a straight line, to its new position along the same orbital track, only back at their original altitude and a quarter of the way around the planet from their last location.
“Jump complete.”
“Targets three through twelve coming up,” Jessica reported. “Roll us onto our starboard side, perpendicular to our track, Mister Chiles.”
“Changing orbital attitude, aye,” the helmsman reported.
Nathan rotated slowly in his chair until he could see Jessica through the clear view screen, standing behind the tactical station.
“I can get all four quads, dorsal and ventral, firing at the same time. I can pound half of the targets as they fall behind us, the other half as they come towards us,” she explained with a fiendish smile. “Kills more of them, more quickly.”
“By all means, let’s be efficient,” Nathan replied.
“Holy shit!” Sergeant Torwell exclaimed as his gun turret bubble cleared after the jump. “Are you guys seeing this?”
“My God,” Lieutenant Kainan muttered, as he stared out the windows, scanning the area from side to side. Four streams of red-hot slugs rained down from orbit, terminating in massive clouds of dust, debris, and explosions as they pummeled their targets on the surface. Less than ten kilometers ahead of them and slightly left was the closest target, and even from that distance, the rising cloud looked ominous.
“I’m pretty sure there’s going to be no one left to fight down there,” Ensign Latfee muttered from the copilot seat.
“Doubtful,” Commander Telles commented from the back of the combat jump shuttle.
“Yeah, there are always a few lucky bastards who survive the death from above and are blessed with the honor of fighting us,” Master Sergeant Jahal mused.
“What do we do if we can’t see their damned guns?” Specialist Taji Sennott asked as he peered out through his turret canopy on the port side of Cobra Two, as the Jung frigate approached.
“Then just shoot at anything,” his counterpart in the starboard gun turret, Specialist Turchin, suggested.
“Don’t worry about their guns,” Captain Annatah told them. “They won’t get through our shields anyway.”
Four mark three plasma torpedoes streaked away from the gunship, their red-orange light nearly blinding Taji for a moment. “Damn, those torpedoes are bright!”
“Stop complaining and open fire,” Rom instructed, yelling over the sound of his quad-barreled plasma cannon as he opened fire at the passing ship.
Taji moved his control yoke to his right and twisted over, bringing his turret around to face forward and slightly to port, while rotating it on its longitudinal axis to get a better angle. He squeezed his trigger and held it, causing his weapon to fire continuously. His quad barrels fired, one at a time, half a second apart each. He moved his control yoke carefully, in small increments, attempting to keep his targeting point on the same part of the now unshielded Jung frigate until it passed under them.
Another salvo of plasma torpedoes lit up his gun turret. Squinting, he picked a new point on the frigate’s hull and fired. Several explosions erupted across the ship, first on the surface of the hull in the area he was targeting, growing deeper and larger.
“Jumping,” his captain warned over the comms.
Taji’s gun bubble suddenly went opaque as the ship jumped. He spun his weapon around aft, twisting it over at the same time, in order to fire aft as they came out of what he expected to be only a two-hundred-meter jump to get clear before Cobra Three opened fire. As he came to point aft, his gun bubble cleared, and he was greeted with a massive explosion. “Oh, my God!” he exclaimed. “I think I got her!” Taji let go of his control yoke and turned to look back into the tunnel that led into the ship. He could barely see his cohort, Rom, sitting in his turret at the other end of the tunnel on the far side of the gunship. His turret lit up with the yellow-white explosions of the dying frigate. “Did you see that?”
“I’m pretty sure it was the plasma torpedoes,” Rom insisted.
“We’ve got the first Cobra kill!” he heard his captain exclaim over the comms.
“I don’t care what it was,” Taji grinned. “That was incredible!”
“Jumping in thirty seconds,” the copilot’s voice announced over the comms.
“One minute!” Sergeant Lazo yelled from the front of the troop shuttle’s cargo compartment, warning his men to be ready to disembark. “Visors down, weapons loaded, safeties on! Check your buddy’s gear! It will be late afternoon on the surface, so set your visors to auto-tint. Don’t be fooled by Chiya’s dark cloud cover! It’s full of holes, and when that big-ass sun of theirs pokes through, it will blind you for several seconds. The Jung know this, and they will use it to their advantage.”
“If any of them survive the orbital bombardment,” the private next to Biorgi joked.
“Enough of them will,” Biorgi said sternly, admonishing the young private. “Better you expect it, and be pleasantly surprised.”
“Come on, Biorgi,” the young man argued. “There can’t be that many of them who survive. Besides, the Ghatazhak are goi
ng in first. We’re just here to maintain order until the locals can take over.”
Biorgi nodded. “I’ll be sure to remind you of that when I’m dragging you back to the aid station with half your body scorched by a Jung energy weapon.”
“Never going to happen,” the young man insisted. “I’m just going to follow your lead, Corporal.”
“Don’t follow Biorgi,” another man said, “Haven’t you heard? Biorgi charges the enemy head on.”
“Jump complete,” the copilot announced over the comms.
“Twenty seconds!” Sergeant Lazo warned. “Marines! Stand ready!”
Biorgi rose to his feet and turned to face the aft door as it began to swing down and away from the aft end of the compartment. He could feel the thick, musky Chiyan air rushing in to greet them. It was humid, and smelled of strange plants and animals, both of which the planet was renowned for possessing in great abundance. It also smelled of death. Burning human flesh, melted body armor, the bitter taste of smoke and dust as it swirled into the compartment.
The roar of the troop shuttle’s engines was deafening as the door opened fully, all four of the massive, rotating, engine pods at full power as the ship settled to the ground. The ship bounced slightly, settling in as the door fell the last half meter to the ground forming a ramp down to the surface. The first squad charged out the back of the shuttle, running down the ramp and heading to the left. Biorgi was next, leading his squad of twelve down the ramp after them, but instead, he turned to the right.
The surface of Chiya was much different than the crunchy, tan soil of Adlair. And the thick atmosphere was difficult to suck into his lungs as he ran in a low crouch toward the Ghatazhak element they were to reinforce.
The soil of Chiya was thick, with an almost muddy feel to it, even though it was not excessively moist. It was dark and pungent, full of old, rotted vegetation. The grasses were tall, nearly waist high, and had an odd lavender color, with yellow tips that seemed to release a fine powder when disturbed. There were lots of shrubs, as well. Thick, dense ones, with barbed branches that could tear your flesh from your bones if you fell into them.
Biorgi led his men across the clearing and into the thick woods at the perimeter. He did not stop, continuing to run, weaving between the tall, wide trunks of the majestic trees. At times, the trunks were so close together they almost formed a wall. He had heard that the roots of the trees were all intertwined, and that some believed the entire forest was actually one big underground plant, with massive stalks that broke through the ground and reached up through the low lying clouds that blocked the sun half of the Chiyan day.
Biorgi paused briefly, checking his visor to make sure they were getting closer to the Ghatazhak element they were assigned to reinforce. But his tactical display wasn’t behaving properly, and the blue icons that represented the Ghatazhak squad kept fading in and out.
“Come on, Biorgi!” the young private who had expected an easy day yelled. “What are you waiting for?”
“My visor, something is interfering with it…”
“It’s the trees. They warned us about that. Let’s move. They’re over there. I can hear their weapons fire.”
“No, the sound could be bouncing off the trees, mis…”
The private took off, heading deeper into the forest.
“Dukette!” Biorgi yelled. “Damn it.” Biorgi motioned for the rest of the squad to move out, then ran around the tree in pursuit of the eager, but stupid, young marine. The Ghatazhak drill instructors were supposed to weed out men exhibiting such behavior, but apparently a few of them had slipped past.
Energy weapons fire sounded from Biorgi’s left, followed by a muffled scream of pain a few meters ahead of him. Biorgi fell to one knee, turning to his left and bringing up his weapon while he raised his right hand to signal the rest of his squad to take cover. Several gunshots sounded from just ahead of him, followed by more energy weapons blasts.
Biorgi motioned for his men to spread out. “Tobin, Ramsa, Moray…swing wide left. Bellotta, Arroya, and Yorrel…wide right. The rest follow me.” Biorgi waited for several seconds, watching his tactical display as his men fanned out. He then rose and advanced between the trees. Energy weapons fire streaked past him from the left, and was instantly answered by gunfire from the men he had sent to the left. He dropped to one knee again, but the weapons fire stopped. “Report.”
“Clear right.”
“Three kills, clear left.”
Biorgi’s tactical display suddenly came back to life, resuming normal operation and clearly displaying the Ghatazhak element they were attempting to locate. He looked in the upper right corner of his visor, noticing a new icon had appeared. “The CNS-sats are up,” he announced over the comms. “Our tactical displays should be okay now.”
Biorgi heard a noise nearby. A rustling of grass, and gasping sounds. He looked around, then spotted movement in the grass next to one of the massive tree trunks. He signaled the two men next to him to spread out to either side of the tree, then got up and advanced toward the sound. His weapon up and ready to fire, he moved quickly around the tree, then stopped dead in his tracks. “Dukette.”
The young man was lying on the ground, his hand shaking badly as his injured muscles twitched. His chest armor was a heap of melted composite, and half his head was flash-burned away, leaving a gaping hole in the side of his neck that bubbled with blood as he tried in vain to breathe. The look in the young man’s eyes was terrified and desperate. He knew he was dying.
The other two men came around as well, stopping to stare in shock at their dying comrade.
Dukette’s remaining eye looked up at Biorgi, pleading to him. Biorgi reached into his thigh pouch, and pulled out a pneumo-ject filled with a powerful analgesic. He knelt down, wiped the blood away from the uninjured side of the young marine’s neck, and emptied the entire contents of the pneumo-ject into the dying man. Private Dukette’s eye glassed over and slowly closed.
“You want me to call for a medevac?” one of the men asked.
“Don’t bother,” Biorgi said. “I gave him the whole load.”
“Jesus, Biorgi,” the other man said, astonished. “That’ll kill him for sure.”
“He was already dead,” Biorgi said, rising to his feet. “His brain just didn’t know it yet.”
The other two men stared at Private Dukette as the young man’s respirations became less and less pronounced, finally fading away completely.
“Move out!” Biorgi shouted back as he continued into the forest.
“That’s the last one,” Jessica reported from the Aurora’s tactical console.
“Flight reports we own the skies of Chiya,” Naralena announced from the comm station.
“Any word on the frigates?” Nathan asked.
“Frigates one, three, and four are destroyed,” Jessica replied. “Captain Nash’s pack is finishing up frigate two now.”
“I am picking up a few unarmed shuttles making a run for orbit,” Mister Navashee reported.
“Have flight vector the Falcons to intercept any ships fleeing the surface until the gunships can take up orbital cover,” Nathan instructed. “And let Commander Telles know he can start the second wave.”
“Aye, sir,” Naralena replied.
“Once the surface is under control, we can release the gunships to return to Tanna.” Nathan rose from his seat and headed toward his ready room. “Stand down from general quarters, but maintain a high state of readiness in all sections,” he instructed as he passed Jessica. “I’ll be in my ready room, Lieutenant Commander. You have the conn.”
“I have the conn, aye,” Jessica replied. She waited until Nathan left the room, then smiled. “This shit’s getting easier with each liberation.”
* * *
Captain Nash and his crew exited the docking tunnel into the boarding area at the Cobra asteroid base. Captain Annatah and his crew were already being lifted into the air by the hordes of technicians and support staff who had
gathered to welcome the newest heroes of Tanna.
Captain Nash paused to watch the festivities as his crew ran into the welcoming crowd. He looked at his XO, Lieutenant Commander Rano, noticing the grin on his face. “What are you smiling about?” he wondered. “We didn’t score a kill.”
“Yes, we did,” Lieutenant Commander Rano insisted. “We all did. Look at them,” he added, gesturing toward the festivities that were growing in size as more Cobra crews disembarked and joined the cheering crowd. “Today, all of Tanna has seen that we can fight back.”
“That was only one victory, in a huge war, my friend.”
“But it was a Tannan victory. Our victory. We have been living under the boot of the Jung for so long, we had almost forgotten who we once were.”
“And who was that?” Captain Nash wondered.
“This world was settled by people who refused to adhere to the standards and expectations of the larger core and secondary worlds. We survived the plague, with fewer deaths than many. We rebuilt our world, regrew our population, only to be knocked back down by Jung oppression. It nearly robbed us of our very souls.” Lieutenant Commander Rano looked back at the celebration, his smile growing again. “They now remember what it feels like to fight for something they believe in. What it feels like to be free…truly free.”
“This is what, a hundred people maybe?”
“But they will tell others of this day,” the lieutenant commander said. “Friends and family. Strangers at the local tavern as they share drinks. Anyone who will stop and listen to their pride-filled tale of the day that Tannan crews, flying Tannan-built ships of war, attacked and defeated Jung ships much bigger and more powerful than our own.”
“I think you’re making more out of it than it really is, Izzu.”
“You do not see it, because you are not Tannan. But this day…this day will be remembered for as long as a single Tannan breathes air. Those who insisted that we are powerless against the Jung will be without words, and the recruitment stations will be overwhelmed with volunteers.” Lieutenant Commander Rano turned to face his captain. “We could not have done this without you, Robert. For that, I will always be in your debt.”