“Correct, so you’ve got two buttons on the forward bulkhead. The green button should blast you free of the alien ship. The red one will activate the emergency thrusters. Just make sure you’re oriented away from the alien vessel, otherwise you’ll crash right back into it.”
“There are no windows on this yacht, Owens,” Dean said. “I won’t know which way I’m oriented.”
“The system is set up to activate the exterior cameras as soon as you press that green plunger. There’s cameras on all four sides and the vid screens are synced. It’ll be just like looking out the window. The buttons are on the front of your shuttle. Once we’re in that window hit the red plunger and we’ll catch you on this end.”
“Got it, Lieutenant. Excellent initiative.”
“Thank you, sir!”
“Are we ready yet?” Fanning asked.
“One minute to launch,” Owens said. “Final systems check is complete. Hangar restraints have been removed. Please make sure everyone is securely fastened into their harnesses.”
“Double check everything,” Dean said. “Harnesses, weapons, armor. Mr. Butler, Ms. Fanning, please check to ensure that your suits are completely sealed and that you have maximum oxygen.”
Dean heard a sigh and knew who had made it, but didn’t take the bait Fanning was trying to provoke him with. Instead he checked his gear, armor, harness, and rifle. Everything was ready.
“Fifteen seconds,” Lieutenant Owens stated. “Begin countdown to launch.”
Suddenly a new voice spoke up.
“Admiral! We have vessels inbound!” said the officer at the radar console.
“Where?” Masterson said, not bothering to ask if they were friendly. They were too far out for friendly ships to arrive, even if they had known the Apache needed help. The communications beacon that had been sent toward the Sol system had weeks to go before it would arrive back at Earth. Whatever was coming was not on their side.
“Two signals, inbound, flanking the alien ship.”
“That means they’re flanking us,” Masterson said. “Get that shuttle locked down. Launch all attack drones. Captain Blaze get your platoon ready for emergency action.”
“Yes sir,” came the replies from various officers including Dean.
“Everyone off the shuttle,” Dean ordered.
“What? Why?” Fanning demanded.
“More ships inbound,” Dean said. “Move your ass, ma’am. You don’t want to be caught on this deck when the shit hits the fan.”
“Perhaps they’re-”
Dean muted the woman’s feed and reached out to unsnap her harness.
“Butler, get her out of here,” he said. “Owens, get the ramp open.”
“On it,” the Operator said.
Dean’s platoon dashed out of the shuttle and onto the hangar deck.
“Concave, Eagle, Pincer, Pistol, Hot!” Dean ordered. “HA make your line here, between the shuttles. That will keep us out of the way of the drones.”
“We have visuals,” the officer controlling the ship’s cameras said. “It’s definitely Kroll ships.”
“As if there were any doubt,” someone else on the bridge said.
“No unnecessary chatter,” Admiral Masterson said. “Bearing?”
“They’re still slowing down sir,” said the radar officer. “I’d say a half minute out past the alien ship. They’ll be on our port and starboard.”
“Anderson, get those drones in place,” the admiral ordered.
“Yes sir!”
The next few minutes were a flurry of activity. Rack after rack of attack drones were launched, but they were slow, cumbersome vessels. The teardrop-shaped ships launched from the incoming alien craft before the first wave of drones were out of the hangar. Dean watched it all from his TCU, which had four vid feeds up from the Apache’s exterior cameras. He knew immediately that something was different. Some of the teardrop-shaped pods moved toward the ship, extending their grappling tentacles, but others moved toward the drones.
“They’re moving to engage the drones,” someone on the bridge said.
“Fire at will, Anderson,” the admiral ordered. “Electrify our hull.”
Dean felt a pulse as the exterior of the ship was charged with electricity. He watched with bated breath as the first grappling arm touched the Apache. There was no sound, but he saw the sparks and arcs of electrical current running up the tentacle. The waving arm pulled back, the tip blackened, as the teardrop vessel retracted its grappling tool.
“It worked!” someone shouted.
Three more of the tentacles touched with the same result, but Dean noticed the charge around each seemed weaker.
“Sir,” the chief engineer said. “They’re overwhelming the electrical system.”
“What do you mean?” Masterson said.
“We can’t keep up the voltage sir. The more grapples they use, the weaker our defenses.”
Just then the first of the drones engaged the teardrop-shaped pods. Missiles shot out, but the aliens ships evaded, then their grappling arms shot out, snatching the drones as the alien craft raced past the hangar opening.
“Sir, they have drones,” Anderson said. “They might use them against us.”
“Detonate them, damn you,” Masterson snarled. “Detonate any drone that gets captured.”
As Dean watched, half a dozen combat drones exploded. There was no flame in the hard vacuum of space, but the concussive force tore the drones apart, shredding the grappling arms, and blasting the debris into the alien pods. Several were knocked off course and sent tumbling out of control.
“That’s an expensive tactic,” Masterson said, “but it’s all we’ve got.”
The racks were still rolling out, trying to prepare more drones for launch, but there were just too many of the teardrop-shaped vessels swarming the Apache. Even when Masterson called for the ship to retreat it was too late. The approaching vessels were huge, more than twice the size of the ship that had stopped the Apache.
“Fall back,” Dean said. “Boarding protocol.”
“Sir, I don’t want to miss the action,” Landin said.
“You won’t, I guarantee that,” Dean replied. “We’re going to be captured, platoon. That means the enemy is coming into our ship and we’re all that stands between the crew and death.”
“Bring it on,” Adkins said.
“Take your positions,” Dean ordered. “Remember their tactics. They will override our artificial gravity if they can. And when they break through they’ll be moving fast with weapons hot. Be careful, but don’t hold back. We get one shot at this, platoon. We kill them, and I mean every last one of them, or we die. Show no mercy, don’t get overconfident, and don’t waste your ammunition. It’s time to show these bastards that they want no part of Force Recon.”
“First in the fight!” Chavez shouted.
“Tip of the spear!" the rest of the platoon chanted back.
“Let’s move,” Dean said.
They jogged out of the hangar and to the stairwell. Dean’s group, which was made up of Heavy Armor Specialists Owanto, Teller, and Adkins, Close Combat Specialist Chavez, Fast Attack Specialist Harper, and Demolitions Specialist Tallgrass, stayed on Alpha deck. The rest of the platoon made their way up to Charlie deck, with Ghost taking his position by the railing of the atrium and the rest forming a strong line of defense in front of the ship’s bridge.
“Captain, B team is in place,” Valosky said over the platoon channel.
“Great,” Dean replied. “Everyone stay loose. Our turn will come soon enough.”
From where he stood Dean could see out the hangar where more drones were being launched. Most of the teardrop-shaped pod ships were busy taking the attack drones out as soon as they crossed the gravity field. Their grappling arms were quickly damaged and unable to take hold of the attack drones, but they still used the long arms to batter the drones. Dean watched the battle, which looked nothing like he expected. The Operators were scramblin
g to keep the attack craft under control. Missiles were fired but the pod ships evaded, swirling through space like a school of fish dodging a shark, while the drones moved in a slow, stilted manner, unable to keep pace.
The alien pods didn’t have weapons but they used their thick grappling lines to hurl or bat the drones into one another. For every alien ship that fell, half a dozen drones were lost.
“Admiral, we have eight lines on the ship,” said the chief engineer. “Our hull defenses aren’t holding and we’re burning a lot of power.”
“Shut it down,” Admiral Masterson said. “Anderson, cease all drone launches. We’re wasting our time and resources.”
“What about those drones still in the air?” Anderson said, not realizing there wasn’t any actual air in space.
“They keep fighting,” Masterson said, “but capture is unavoidable at this point. Prep the emergency action drone. We won’t fire it until we have to. I want the hangar bay doors shut and sealed. Then prepare the ship for self-destruct.”
“Sir?” Anderson asked in a high, strained voice. “You’re going to blow up the ship?”
“Not unless we have no other choice, but I want us to be ready if it becomes inevitable. Captain Blaze?”
“I’m here, sir,” Dean replied over the command channel.
“We’re in your hands now. Give ’em hell.”
“Don’t worry Admiral, we’re ready.”
“Then God help us, we’ve done all we can do,” Masterson said.
Dean switched on a private channel to Captain Parker. “B team is all yours, Captain.”
“I’m joining them now, Dean. Can I ask you a question?”
“Shoot,” Dean replied.
“Why don’t you ever call me Vanessa?”
“That’s simple enough, I respect you too much.”
“I’ve trained a lot of Recon officers, Dean. You’re different.”
“You mean I have knack for getting into dangerous operations?”
“No, I mean you’re a hell of a tactician. Do your thing and get us out of this mess, will you?”
“You’ve got it, Captain,” Dean said, hoping he could live up to her expectations.
“Admiral, we’re being moved to the starboard ship,” someone on the bridge said.
“Alright people, stay at your stations and do your jobs,” Masterson said. “We all knew this was a possibility. Upload the latest data and fire that emergency beacon. At least the brass will know what happened to us if we don’t make it back.”
Chapter 34
The ship grew quiet. The lights were still red, indicating the highest threat level, but the alarm was turned off. Every crewman and officer was in place with nothing to do but wait. It didn’t take long for the teardrop-shaped tug vessels to move the Apache into place. Dean felt a wave of nausea and then a strong pull to his right.
“Shift,” he ordered through teeth clenched together in hopes of keeping the contents of his stomach in place.
The world seemed to go sideways, but Dean’s platoon was ready.
“Cut the artificial gravity,” Masterson ordered from the bridge.
Suddenly the nausea passed as quickly as it had come, but a booming crash was heard on Bravo deck, which was suddenly to Dean’s right.
“Hull breach!” called an officer on the bridge.
Dean didn’t have to order his squad to move, they responded to the sound instantly. They hurried through the stairwell, walking on the wall which had become the floor under their feet in the new sense of gravity that had taken over the ship.
“Recon Captain, report!” Masterson called over the platoon channel.
“We have incoming,” Dean said as they reached Bravo deck.
It was all he managed to say before a barrage of laser fire shot toward his location. Dean was still behind the HA Specialists, who were backing slowly from the stairwell into the corridor, the laser fire sizzling on their shields like water drops flicked onto a hot griddle.
Dean, Harper, Chavez, and Tallgrass followed the lead of the Heavy Armor Specialists, staying safely behind the large titanium-hydrogen alloy shields. The sound of plasma cannons spewing hot death back toward the aliens was loud but welcome. Dean had the view from his HA Specialists on his HUD. The corridor was full of the feline creatures, some of which were beginning to scale the walls.
“Harper, Tallgrass, Chavez, on me,” Dean said as he scooted back several feet from the HA line. “Target the aliens on the walls.”
The three specialists didn’t need to respond verbally, their rifles did the talking for them. On Charlie deck, which was currently to Dean’s right side, more gunfire came from Ghost’s new position. The aliens were the four-legged feline creatures, each wearing black insulated armor that proved effective against the plasma fire, but worthless against the EMR rifles with their tungsten projectiles. Blood splashed the walls and floor, as the strange creatures roared in agony, the laser weapons mounted on their backs ineffective in the fight.
“Move forward,” Dean ordered. “Push them back.”
“Won't they just burst into the ship somewhere else?” Chavez asked.
“Not if we get into their vessel and control the space.”
“You want back up?” Parker asked.
“Not yet, we’re pretty bunched up here.”
“What’s the plan, Captain?” Masterson asked.
“There’s only one thing we can do,” Dean said. “Get on their ship and blow it to hell. It’s the only way we’ll get free.”
“You think you can do that?” Masterson asked.
“We’ll do it or die trying,” Dean said, firing several rounds at an alien climbing up the wall.
The creature screamed as it fell. More were struggling to get in through the hole the aliens had blasted into the side of the Apache. Dean recognized the strategic value of the space. If they could push the aliens back through the opening, he could hold it with just a few Specialists, while the rest pressed on into their ship.
“Wilson, Carter, Kliner, Landin,” Dean ordered. “Get down to the ready room and switch out your plasma cannons for the old utility guns. We’re going into the alien ship and I want an array of munitions. Harper!”
“Yes, Captain,” the Fast Attack Specialist said as she moved beside him.
“Get an AAV into the alien ship. I want to see what’s going on in there.”
“Affirmative.”
“Captain Parker, be sure you’re tapped into the platoon channel with me,” Dean said. “Once we’re ready to move I want you in reserve with Landin, and Teller holding this opening to the ship.”
“Got it,” Parker replied.
On Dean’s TCU face screen he could see the vid feed from the drone Harper was flying. It raced through the opening to the alien ship, above the heads of the gang of alien quadrupeds struggling through the hail of fire from Dean’s platoon. In the alien ship was a large open room. Dean immediately recognized the glass wall on the opposite side of the ship. It was a holding cell, created to keep the crew of a captured vessel in, while the Kroll did whatever they could with the new technology they had stolen. Dean couldn’t help but think of the rooms as cattle stalls in a slaughter house. The good news was that Dean didn’t see anything but the feline aliens in the room.
“Hit them from their rear, Sergeant,” Dean ordered Harper.
Two warheads from the AAV dropped onto the creatures at the rear of the group struggling to get into the Apache. The explosions were felt even on the EsDef ship, and Dean immediately noticed the attack slow. The vid feed from the AAV showed half of the aliens in the holding room either dead or wounded. It was just a matter of time, Dean knew, and they would defeat the aliens, but it was only the first wave. Who knew what kind of horrible creatures the Kroll would send at them next.
“These plasma cannons don’t do shit against their armor,” Adkins complained.
“Aim for their heads, hands, and feet,” Owanto said.
“Or their we
apons,” Teller added.
“Conserve your ammunition, we’ve almost cleared the first wave,” Dean said. “Staff Sergeant, make sure the wounded are dead and move them out of the way. Tallgrass, reload everyone’s ammo. We’re going into that ship.”
“What can we do, Captain?” Masterson asked from the bridge.
“Do you have any way to monitor the other ships?” Dean asked.
“Just visual. We’ve lost radar and just about every other system inside their gravity field.”
“That’s what I expected,” Dean said. “But visual should work. Our plan has to be to get free and then get out of this sector as quickly as possible. Once we get into the alien ship, we’ll set charges to blast the Apache free. Have your maintenance crew clear the bodies of the aliens.”
“We can do that.”
“And see if you can repair this airlock. We have to be ready to leave as quickly as possible.”
“Affirmative. Good luck, Captain.”
“Thank you sir.”
“Looks like we got them all,” Harper reported.
“Alright,” Dean said. “Platoon, converge on this opening.”
They had to step on the bodies of the feline aliens to get through the short tunnel to the huge Kroll ship. Dean had to force himself not to think about what he was doing, and just move through as quickly as possible. The aliens had blasted through the Apache’s airlock, and Dean could already see the sticky, gelatinous secretion that was used to hold the captured ship in place. So far, nothing had happened that Dean wasn’t mentally prepared for.
“Here’s what I want,” Dean said once he was in the alien ship’s holding cell. There appeared to be only one way into the cell, through a hatch in the floor located in the center of the room. “Get that hatch closed, it’s the only way into this room.”
“I’m on it,” Adkins said, hurrying over.
The room had a single, round hatch, that hung open. Dean remembered one just like it on the Kroll ship in the Alrakis system. He did a visual scan and found no other obvious openings.
“Alright, we’ll make our stand here,” Dean said, pointing at the space in front of the opening. “Stack those bodies up on either side so that we can’t be flanked.”
Embracing Oblivion: Wolfpack Book 3 Page 22