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First Deployment (Corporate Marines Book 3)

Page 26

by Tom Germann


  The ship was being hit with some sort of targeting system, but whatever it was, it appeared to be having problems locking onto us. It didn’t help that the ship was rolling around, but I couldn’t see how it would really hinder the ship, either.

  We kept flipping and rolling around. I found that I was not as nauseous-feeling as I had been previously. I felt good enough to pull some of the outside data and bring up a simple sim on what was going on. The ship was moving off at an angle from us, providing a nice side shot to those sensors that were painting us. The fact that the AI seemed to think that the ship was out of range took away most of the benefit other than we could hope that the enemy would waste processor power on a target that they were hoping would come closer.

  It seemed to be working. The little bit of data that the computer was pulling down indicated that the ship was getting most of the attention while our little lander was only getting a bit of it.

  That didn’t mean that we weren’t being targeted, however. Regularly the ship would be caught in the targeting systems of whatever was there, but then we would duck and weave around and the lock would be lost. I had the grim feeling that the enemy were waiting for us to get well within range of their weapons before they fired. And when we did, we wouldn’t be able to dodge or outrun them as easily.

  We were coming up on the moon now and the target wasn’t that far off.

  Thirty seconds till we were in atmosphere.

  There was a bing then the landing spot changed. Targets one and three blanked out and we were going for two.

  A screaming siren was going off inside the lander and flashing danger lights blinked rapidly. We had been fully painted, were locked up, and there were weapons firing on us. The lander seemed to go sideways and flipped end over end. I could feel the contents of my stomach coming up and I started to grey out a bit. I didn’t know how long I could take this.

  We were hurtling toward the moon at full speed while whipping around out of control.

  Initially I thought there were two missiles coming toward us, but I couldn’t be sure as I just wanted to throw up.

  The flipping slowed down, and the lander was now facing ass-end toward the moon. We appeared to have lost the targeting lock and I thought I heard a distant boom as the first missile went off, but I was probably wrong.

  We were heading toward the third landing point and someone down below lost their nerve. Heavy lasers fired on us. It was a mistake, but we had been fired on from both landing fields so the slag heaps was looking pretty good as at least no heavy weapons had fired on us from there.

  I heard and felt the second missile explosion. The lander was thrown sideways. This wasn’t because the ship was trying to dodge; this was the ship being pushed sideways. We seemed to wobble for a second and then we straightened out.

  There were more sirens shrieking and a moment later multiple heavy lasers fired on us. The moon had no appreciable atmosphere so the only thing that would weaken the blasts was if we were at max range, and we had to be close to it.

  Someone down below had fucked up. They had itchy trigger fingers for whatever reason and had fired. A heavy laser can only fire so much before overheating, and those would be field weapons, not permanent fixtures placed in a bunker with special power and cooling sources. They would have to wait a bit, and we would be down on the ground before they could fire again. I hoped I never made that mistake—if I lived.

  Two’s voice came over the line. “Eight seconds to impact! Spread out, take cover, and acquire targets! Mission parameters may change on the ground!”

  Suddenly the ship lurched sideways again. We were now lined up on our landing point. The entire lander started shaking and pressure rapidly built up on us all as the engines came on, going to full thrust to slow the huge lander down before we plowed into the surface of the moon, which would have messed us all up. Messed up as in pulverized us.

  We slammed to a stop and the lander rocked. The ship’s computer automatically deactivated the mag lock and I started walking forward, tearing through the straps like they were cobwebs. The sides of the chamber just clanked open as the locking bolts holding them in position were blown. I grabbed my rifle and a box of ammo that was secured next to it. I was going to need all the extra ammo and explosives that I could carry for this.

  I mag-locked the box to my chest, which made it awkward but still doable. Most of the rest of the section was already on the ground. I leapt out, aiming for the spot that I had identified as good protection and where I could cover my arcs.

  I hit hard but I was behind cover and I threw myself one-handed up the slope so that I was a bit higher. I knew I was in silhouette to anyone watching from a distance but I needed to see more. The sight lines here were bad. You couldn’t see more than a hundred metres before your view was blocked by more slag heaps.

  We were all in location now and the HUD showed everyone had weapons up and ready. There were no enemy soldiers anywhere around us. Three was at the closest spot to the outpost, behind a small pile of slag. It looked like the outpost had finally started to clear out the slag, either for growth or because someone had realized it was a weakness in defence. There was just one huge slag heap between him and the domes.

  We had to start assaulting forward before the enemy had their rapid-response troops suited up and out to meet us.

  Three suddenly yelled out, “That ain’t a slag heap!”

  Then the entire moon seemed to explode.

  Everything went blurry for a second and I felt like I had been crushed by a giant foot. I still had the ammo box mag-locked to my chest and my rifle was in my hand. Visibility was zero. There was dust everywhere and the comms were out. I carefully shook my head and when I was sure it wouldn’t fall off, I evaluated what had happened.

  Farther away from us was what the map indicated had been a large slag heap. The top third was gone, I thought; it was hard to tell with all the debris in the air.

  They had placed mines in the slag heap. It had done a good job shaking us up, but it didn’t look like we had any casualties as my display stabilized and everyone looked fine. But if they had mined one. . . .

  Two’s voice cut in over the comm line. “Everyone, run a quick scan of your cover and back off if you’re mined! Most of these heaps have explosives buried in them like that last one did.”

  I ran a quick scan. I had maybe eight kilos of explosives of some sort under the top of the heap. I backed off fast. I should survive a blast as long as I was a few feet away and lower, which I was. But now I had no sight lines forward on anything. I could see maybe forty metres. Crap.

  Three’s voice came on the line again. “That slag heap ahead of me is some sort of big bunker.”

  The debris was slowly falling to the surface. Most of the larger chunks were down and visibility was starting to improve. I couldn’t see anything and the limited suit sensors weren’t giving me info on any enemy troop movements.

  Three’s voice came on again. “Two, I need heavy weapons fire on my target.” A targeting icon appeared on the slag heap or bunker ahead of Three. “Maybe if we pound it. . . .”

  The flash was bright. A laser blast slammed by the lander and went into the distance. Then there was a chugging sound and three large-calibre rounds like small artillery shells also zoomed by the lander. The last one went high, and shortly after it was fired, it exploded. My suit was tracking it. The shell had been a casing and it had blown open, releasing an unknown number of metal balls. It was like a large shotgun shell. They had canister rounds like we did.

  Any of that would kill a Marine, let alone ruin our lander.

  One came on. “We have to assault now and take back the advantage. Maybe if we blow the dome we can kill them?” He paused. “All, prepare to assault on my mark. Three, paint the bunker and we’ll hammer it and go. Missiles—”

  Two’s voice was a bark. “Everyone, stand the fuck d
own! We are in a kill zone. Nobody move and nobody does anything. Any of that could have taken us out. They have the upper hand, and we see what they are up to and what they want.”

  One came back. “We need to assault now! They missed the lander! We can take them out and assault or fall back!”

  Two came back immediately. “No one move and no one does anything. We haven’t even seen the enemy yet, except for one bunker. I said stand the fuck down, One!”

  One was starting to stand up, abandoning his cover.

  The debris was still drifting down and visibility was improving. My display went insane as enemy troops started appearing in the distance in an open circle around us farther out.

  Four’s voice came over. “We have multiple Kah-Choo units. Dozens of medium and eight heavy armour class, I think.”

  One was just standing and started to advance toward Seven, who had a missile launcher. He flew backward, with pieces of his rifle flying away from him. We could all hear his grunt over the comm line as he had left it open.

  Two was yelling. “Everyone, hold fire! That was one sniper round aiming to take out his rifle! He’s not dead. Everyone, wait!”

  She stopped talking and we all froze.

  After a second the comm line clicked and we could hear something else. A broadcast from our ship, and it sounded like they were in trouble.

  “Marines, if you can hear this, the Kah-Choo have us corralled. We are being trailed by two of their assault ships. They have been able to transmit some images to us. They will board us and take the ship unless we move to orbit over the planet. We can’t get away as they have a slight speed advantage and they fired a warning shot. We didn’t know they could fire any shots. I am going to do as they say. We can’t hold off an armoured boarding party. We’ll keep our eyes open for a chance to extract you, or escape in the worst case. I am putting this on a repeater and dropping a satellite to keep transmitting just in case.” There was a pause of a few seconds, then the message started again.

  They could have taken the ship by now.

  The comm line clicked and the message ended. Two started speaking quietly. “That came in right before we landed but I wasn’t able to listen to it until just now. We are all royally screwed, so no one mess this up. Let’s see what they want. If they are hostile, and I don’t doubt that they are, we’ll take out as many as possible before they can destroy the outpost. We’ll make them pay. But there are too many lives at stake here for us to just charge and die against a prepared force. This was a trap, people. Be calm.”

  Three’s voice came over the line. “Movement to my front!” There was a pause and then his voice, sounding hesitant, continued. “I have a big stick that just went in the air and there is a big whitish sheet or something on it.”

  Two passed orders quickly. “Everyone, cover your arc, but do not shoot until we come under fire. One was up and moving before he was shot at. These guys have done everything they can to get us to surrender peacefully, including not killing any of us. They could have blown the mines, used that damn bunker to hose us down, or just assaulted us with their heavy gear. I don’t know what other surprises they have in store and I don’t want to know. Three, ping me your headcam view so I can see what’s going on.”

  Two could see what Three was looking at now, but I had no clue, unless I also pinged a bit of the data being sent. . . .

  I tapped in to the signal and opened a small display off to the side. I had done multi-tasking before, so this was easy.

  I had no movement in my sector. Just the enemy troops basically sitting out there well out of sight doing nothing.

  I saw a flicker of movement on the screen and started paying a bit more attention to it. There were shapes coming slowly around the side of the slag heap to Three’s front. There were three of them. One was human in a ship suit and the other two were Kah-Choo. There wasn’t enough detail to make out anything other than race.

  They came halfway to our position and stopped. I noticed that they were staying well to the side of the heavy weapons in the bunker behind them.

  When they came to the halfway point, they stopped and the much larger Kah-Choo started setting something up. It looked like a large board of some sort. The smaller one made some gestures and then the human was walking toward the lander and trying to stay out of direct line with that bunker.

  Three asked the question calmly. “What do I do, Two?”

  “Keep your hands off your weapon. Leave it at the rest and wave this guy through. Point him over to me. I can hear him breathing, so his comm line is open but he isn’t responding. He doesn’t sound terrified, either.”

  The human walked up to Three, who rolled over and motioned him toward Two.

  Two came on the line. “Okay, everyone, stay on watch, but keep those hands off the weapons; I don’t want casualties on our side. I’m going to try to get this guy online. I’ll leave the line open so you can hear. So far nothing has gone according to plan and we aren’t getting off-planet until we can seal the lander up from those blown bolts, so everyone, remain calm.”

  The human walked up to Two and she immediately started gesturing at him. It took him a second to get it, with some serious cursing on Two’s part about how stupid civilians could be, but then there was a click and suddenly we could hear his voice.

  He sounded tired and his voice was strained. “Can you hear me now?”

  “Yes, we finally can. Good thing you remembered how to turn on the ‘receive’ function on your comms.”

  He almost growled at Two. “Okay, so I didn’t think about it. I’ll put you through what we’ve gone through the last couple of weeks. I could use some more food, a shower, sleep, and my family safe. Not being stuck with aliens that we don’t understand and think maybe want to kill us would help, too.”

  Two was abrupt. “Fine. We’re here now. Report and tell us what’s going on, quickly.”

  He sighed. “My name is Brent Finnigan. I’m a technician out here working maintenance on the mining gear and processor. My wife is Emily and we have our twelve-year-old son out here now too. There are forty-three personnel in the station. Two are kids. No one was killed when the Kah-Choo came, even though there were a few incidents. They seem to want to communicate with you. I’m sort of on a timeline here and they get upset if you don’t listen. So if you are in charge, I need you to come over and mime a bunch of stuff to this guy in charge.”

  Two stood up and left her rifle there in the dirt.

  Brent kept talking. “Good idea leaving the weapon. They don’t like you being armed or threatening their people. That can be bad. Don’t get too close to them, either. These guys know what they’re doing and came in hard and fast. They seem to think that we did something bad and they appear to be pissed off.”

  Two spoke up finally as they slowly walked toward the two figures standing there. “Can you tell us what happened?”

  I’ll be honest—I was staring at the two of them walking toward the Kah-Choo forces and was barely paying attention to my arc or anything else.

  I could see Brent stop and then nod, slowly walking on again.

  “They’ve been here for weeks. I’m not exactly sure how many of those weeks there were. Time went weird on most of us after they moved in. We just couldn’t focus as there was a lot of terror going on. But here is how it played out: They came in all stealthy. We didn’t see them until their ships were just a few minutes out of atmosphere. It was a normal work cycle and I was out working on one of the mining diggers that we have, just doing routine maintenance and getting ready to send the group out again. Then the alarms went off. I got back in as fast as I could. Our chief administrator, Bill, was just firing up the automated defence guns that are set up around the place. We stopped him and talked about what would happen if those light guns didn’t take out all the raiders. If a couple dozen dropped and even one survived there’d be nothing stoppi
ng him from using some heavier weapons to blow the domes away. I’m sorry, we’re technicians and scientists; none of us are really fighters. The time for a decision was over before we could really even argue it.”

  Brent sighed and stopped. He was rubbing his left leg and he walked with a pronounced limp. “One of their ships came right down next to one of the domes. The other one landed farther away. They were fired on, but then we shut down the guns. The other shuttle was inside the defensive line anyway. They didn’t breach the airlock doors with explosives. They had some sort of electronic box that hacked our systems. I mean, you have to understand. This is not a war zone or a spy zone. We’re just doing basic research here and mining pretty common elements from the moon, of which there are a lot near the surface. We aren’t a high-priority target in any way.”

  Brent sighed over the comm line as if he was exhausted, and he may well have been after weeks in captivity. He slowed down even more while he walked on and continued talking.

  “They came in two airlocks and didn’t advance until there were a lot of them inside. Our outside satellite lines went down; they cut them so we couldn’t send a signal out. One of the guys tried to be tough and they shot him with some sort of electrical gun like the security guards have on Earth. They seemed mighty curious about how he was doing after that shock, but he recovered in a few hours. We were all rounded up and put into the central mess hall, which is also our meeting area and town hall. After they had secured us all in the room they made a production of showing us small demo charges, which they attached to the outer walls. We got the message. If we got out of hand, they could blow the charges and kill us all. It made it clear to us that they weren’t messing around. But they didn’t start looting and pillaging. I mean, they grabbed the computer core and copied it, and they were doing an inventory of our stuff. . . .”

 

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