39
A Fine Jig Between Heaven and Hell
Sure enough, up came a slender gooseneck with a camera lens at the end. It snaked upward about a foot, then panned in a full circle, then withdrew.
Next came a soldier. His helmet-covered head emerged, and he peered around carefully. Then, having decided it was safe, he climbed completely into the compartment, then looked back into the boarding ship and said something. Then a weapon, possibly a plasma gun of some kind, was handed up to the first soldier. This process was repeated, and soon there were three enemy soldiers in the compartment. They accomplished all this with great swiftness.
The first three started to search the compartment, and at the same time a fourth enemy soldier began to emerge. I knew that within a second or two we would be found out.
Waters yelled, “Fire!”
Before the word was fully formed, the fifteen of us had discharged our weapons, and most, if not all, of those initial rounds made contact with a Kerleegan helmet.
Our attack was merciless, brutal, savage. The noise was subdued, since the surrounding vacuum did nothing for the transmission of the sound. But the muzzle flash from the barrels of fifteen shotguns lit up the compartment in a most macabre way.
We continued our assault. Each of us adopted whatever shooting position we preferred, and we launched a flood of slugs and buckshot at the three, and also at the fourth Kerleegan, who had attempted, unsuccessfully, to pull himself back into the boarding ship.
Our terrible fusillade drew to a close. All of our side emerged from our places of concealment.
The original three enemy soldiers were dead, or at least were knocked over and weren’t moving. A couple of us put additional shotgun blasts into vulnerable places on the enemy suits.
Waters moved to the opening in the deck, where the fourth Kerleegan, in the words of an old song, “danced a fine jig between heaven and hell.”
Then Waters did something I’m unlikely to forget. He bent over and grabbed the fourth guy by his arms and yanked him violently up through the opening. In a continuing motion, Waters slammed him down onto the deck. There the invader lay on his stomach, weaponless, with Waters standing above him.
I didn’t see him grab it, but Waters had his knife in his hand, and he dragged the blade ferociously across the enemy soldier’s back, slashing an opening in the man’s EVA suit at least two feet long, and slicing into his chitinous torso, and oh, heavens, did the blood pour forth from that.
Then Waters grabbed the suit’s fabric at one side of the opening and pulled it wide open. This all happened so fast, it was hard for me to follow it. It was a decidedly unpleasant way for one to lose his life.
I moved to the opening in the deck, firing my shotgun into it repeatedly. I looked intently into the hole, and I could see into the well-lit interior of the boarding craft. I saw no enemy, but then, quick as a chimney swift, an enemy soldier passed beneath me inside the boarding ship. I shot at him twice, and then I noticed his reason for that stunt.
He had tossed a grenade up through the opening.
It hit my shin and then slid down to the deck, near my feet. This was one of the particularly cruel weapons that the Kerleegans used when boarding. It was an incendiary anti-personnel grenade, designed to throw out a spray of a burning compound which simply could not be extinguished. It supplied its own oxygen, and woe betide you if a drop of it landed on your suit.
I had only one thought: Get that grenade back where it came from. I put my boot against its side, and I scooped it back through the opening, into the enemy ship. I yelled, “Grenade!” I leaped as far away from it as possible.
The explosion wasn’t loud, because we only got what little sound was transmitted through the solid parts of the ship, and up into our suits, through our boots and bodies. But through the corner of my eye, I saw the spray of molten compound that shot back up into the Valley Forge from the grenade’s detonation inside the boarding craft.
40
The Clever Sailors
As soon as the explosion was over, I jumped to my feet, because I knew we needed to give that hole in our hull more attention. And right next to me was one of our sailors, and cradled in his arms was one of our Coffin Nail guided-missiles, with which we sometimes armed our Banshees. They were four feet long and weighed about a hundred pounds, and they existed in incendiary versions and explosive versions. The nose of this one was painted a brilliant orange, so this was an incendiary.
The sailor looked me in the eye, and then he looked at the side of the missile, toward the safety device. It was an arm-fire mechanism that armed the missile without the requirement of high missile-velocity. I grabbed the handle, twisted it, and yanked it off.
Then I extended my arms to help him with the missile, and without delay we carried it ten feet to the opening, tipped it nearly vertical, and released it. Then we both turned and dove face-down away from the hole. Everyone else was already flat.
Well, the contact fuse worked to perfection, and from where we were, the noise of the explosion was beautifully loud, having been transmitted through the frameworks of the ships. The deck shook violently, and the compartment was lit brightly.
I grabbed my shotgun and sprang back to the opening, and the sight I saw was a welcome one. The Kerleegan ship’s hold on the Valley Forge had been released, and their ship was drifting away from us in space. I could easily see the enemy craft’s open hatch through which their soldiers had been boarding.
The opening and much of the interior of the enemy craft were illuminated by the inferno caused by the incendiary. I don’t know whether any of the enemy survived that blast, but I imagine that the survivors, if any, were an unhappy group.
Good. They had it coming.
A lot of our people were cheering. The regular crewmen were especially vocal, and they were all high-fiving each other and slapping one another on the back for their creative use of the missile. I certainly admired them for that. But I couldn’t join in the celebration, because I was too busy making sure all of us were alive. I looked from person to person. All of us were indeed still living, and I saw no signs of anyone being wounded.
We had some mop-up work to do. The crewmen gathered the enemy weapons and put them aside for close examination later, and then they helped the Marines drop the four enemy bodies one by one back through the hole, into the blackness of space.
I shook hands with the four sailors, as did the others. In fact, the sailors formed a line, and in another separate line were the Marines and midshipmen. The two lines shook hands. It was something like the end of an NHL playoff-game. Only difference was we were all on the same team. And then I knew I had to get back to Rabinowitz and the other commanders, to see whether they had any particular ideas that we needed to implement.
41
Amassing in the Bays
Back in the midshipmen’s ready-room, only Rabinowitz was present. She was monitoring several screens, one of which showed the activity in section N. But she had been watching another screen momentarily and missed the key happenings. She said she heard the detonation and wondered what it was.
We told her about the creativity of her crewmen, and she smiled.
Rabinowitz told us that Silver and Newton were helping set up barricades with good lines of fire toward the four airlocks aft of the two fighter bays. Then she pointed to four monitors showing feeds from the two bays. It was clear that the enemy was amassing there.
Rabinowitz said to Waters, “I suggest you divide your men up at the barricades that are being constructed aft of the bays. Give the sailors there whatever help they seem to need.”
Waters said, “Aye aye, Ma’am.” Then he turned to his people and said, “You heard the commander. Let’s move out, on the double.”
Without a further word, the eight Marines rushed out. When they were gone, only Rabinowitz, Lennox, Nash, and I were still in the ready-room.
I wondered what Rabinowitz had up her sleeve for us three midshipmen. So far, s
he had shown us no preference whatsoever. She would just as soon have us students die as any other members of her crew.
I guess you have to be that way if you are going to command a starship. If I ever ended up in command of a starship, I don’t think I would be able to be that cold. That was another example of me knowing that my approach to war was different than that of most.
I said, “Talos, what does the enemy plan seem to be?”
Talos said, “So far they’ve been moving through sections of the Valley Forge that are compressed. They’ve left the airlocks open at the point of entry to the fighter bays, so they are moving freely and quickly.”
That surprised me, since I figured they would use the airlock function when entering the bay. For some reason, I assumed they probably would need it. They figured out that they didn’t need it. They simply left everything compressed between the fighter bays and the airlocks nearest the boarding ships. So they were simply moving through the ship unbothered.
Rabinowitz said, “Talos, can you close all airlock hatches remotely?”
Talos said, “I can close or open all of them, or specified ones.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. We still would be able to trap them in the fighter bays.
Talos said, “Additional information: We have a Kerleegan soldier entering a Banshee in the starboard fighter-bay.”
Rabinowitz said nothing. She knew well that none of the ships would operate without someone inputting the day’s password.
Talos said, “Also, be advised that among the final Kerleegan troops are several soldiers who are bringing aboard a heavy weapon of some kind. Analysis shows that it is likely a version of a weapon which the United States designates as the LU-18 Heavy Plasma Cannon.”
At this point, I was ready for just about anything, so I wasn’t surprised by this. Our colloquial name for the LU-18 was “The Annihilator.” It was strictly an anti-personnel weapon. It fired donut-shaped configurations of plasma that grew larger with distance. At thirty feet the toruses would be about six feet across.
These plasma donuts heat the surrounding air to high temperature. A stream of such donuts will fry the EVA suit right off its wearer. The weapon often can be used to destroy an enemy soldier without seriously damaging the structure that surrounds him.
Rabinowitz said, “That’s not good, but we’ll be decompressing the bays before they have a chance to use it. Talos, give me a situation report on the enemy.”
Talos said, “Two enemy boarding ships have been destroyed with all hands. Three other boarding craft are now attached to the Valley Forge. Each carried two pilots and one hundred boarders, for a total of three hundred boarders. All boarders are now aboard the Valley Forge, and most are now in the fighter bays.”
Rabinowitz said, “Okay, got it.”
“Also,” Talos said, “in the port fighter bay, about ten enemy soldiers are leaving the bay and entering one of the bay’s aft airlocks. They will need to decompress the lock before moving on, because the next corridor is decompressed. Also, that corridor contains one of our barricades, and many crewmen, as well as several Marines. Two hundred eighty enemy soldiers are now in the bays.”
Rabinowitz looked at me, Lennox, and Nash.
The three of us stepped near her.
42
I Can Blow the Bay Doors
Rabinowitz said, “I believe that now is the time to slam the airlock hatches closed and open the bay doors. Any insights?”
I said, “Agreed.”
Rabinowitz nodded and said, “Talos, how much time does it take to open the outer bay-doors? How quickly can you do it?”
“I can blow the outer doors,” Talos said. “Call it one second.”
“Let’s take the two bays one at a time,” Rabinowitz said. “First, close and seal the airlock hatches for the starboard bay. Do that now.”
Talos said, “Done. Starboard-bay hatches closed and sealed.”
“Now,” Rabinowitz said, “blow that bay’s outer bay-door.”
I could hear the muffled sounds of the explosives that blew the bay-door.
“Is that bay door clear now?” Rabinowitz asked. “Can we decompress that bay?”
Talos said, “Indeed.”
Rabinowitz said, “All right, now it’s time to carry out the death sentence on the Kerleegans in the starboard bay.” She paused, then said, “Talos, cut the forcefield.”
Talos said, “Done.”
I thought I felt the ship rock. I didn’t hear a thing. But the view on the monitors told the story.
When Talos cut the forcefield that had kept that bay compressed, this caused a violent decompression of the bay. Theory says that, when measured at the bay opening, the air initially exits at almost precisely Mach 1. During a time of about two seconds, over a hundred soldiers were sucked out of the bay, into space—or rather were shoved out by the exiting air.
Where there had been a hundred and forty or more enemy soldiers in the bay, I now saw six or seven. And they weren’t standing, and they weren’t moving.
I continued to look closely at the monitor, trying to determine whether there were any survivors. The magnets had held the Banshees in place, for the most part, though some had scooted a little distance, and one was even tipped at an angle. Some of the boarders had collided forcefully with the Banshees and were either knocked over or killed. But for the most part, the bay looked strangely peaceful.
“All right,” Rabinowitz said, “next the port bay. Talos, close and seal those airlock hatches, now.”
Talos said, “Aye aye, Ma’am.” After a pause, Talos said, “The forward hatch of that bay will not close. Something is blocking it open.”
Rabinowitz said, “Okay, that just means we’ll decompress more of the ship than we wanted to. None of our people are in any of the areas that’ll be decompressed. For now, go ahead and blow the outer bay-door.”
Talos said, “I can’t do that, Ma’am. It’s a safety feature that I can’t override. As long as that airlock’s forward hatch is unsealed, the outer bay-door can’t be blown.”
Rabinowitz said, “Can it be done manually?”
“No.”
I looked at Lennox and Nash and pointed my thumb upward.
We rose and grabbed our M90s. We slung those over the shoulder, and each of us grabbed a shotgun.
Talos continued. “The cameras covering that area have been disabled by the enemy. Scans give a poor image.”
I said to Rabinowitz, “We’ll take care of it.”
Lennox, Nash, and I grabbed our helmets, and we were out of the ready-room before Rabinowitz even replied.
Once outside the ready-room, we put on our helmets. I was uncomfortable. Without the helmet, the suit was nothing you would want to wear for more than a few minutes. With the helmet on, you’d think my misery was complete.
But on top of that I was toting the shotgun, and I had the M90 slung on my right shoulder, and my cross-draw shoulder holster on my left side. With spare magazines for the M90, that’s easily thirty pounds of weapons. Under normal circumstances, all this would border on unbearable. But in the middle of battle, I could almost ignore it.
I said, “Let’s swing by the armory.” I expected that there would be a dozen or so Kerleegans in the corridor by the airlock hatch. It was a short detour to the armory, and we needed more than our M90s, and more than our shotguns.
The three of us entered the armory. I said, “What do you guys think?”
Lennox said, “Grenades. Incendiary grenades.”
I said, “Sounds good. Nash and I can grab a crate of them.”
43
Incendiary Grenades
I slid a crate of the grenades out from under a table. I pulled it open and looked inside, to make certain it was what we wanted. I could see the top layer, four rows with five grenades in each row. The box held two layers, so there were forty grenades in all. The grenades weighed a little over a pound each, so with the crate this was about forty-five pounds.
Nash and I each grabbed a handle of the crate. The three of us moved out of the armory, toward the corridor leading to the fighter-bay. Lennox took point.
The incendiary grenades are brutal, savage weapons. Ours were especially fearsome, as they were white-phosphorus grenades with a napalm kicker. Their maximum effective radius was about thirty feet, but if you were within ten feet, it was time to say goodbye.
The napalm was an advanced formula, that, strictly speaking, was not napalm, though that’s what we called it. Our stuff burned hotter and longer, and it sprayed more effectively.
The Kerleegans routinely used incendiaries when boarding a ship, as well as in the course of ground combat. I personally didn’t like the idea of using them in open-field combat, and our own regulations prohibited their general use.
But we had two exceptions. First, if the enemy used them, we would use them. Secondly, if the enemy boarded one of our ships, no holds were barred, and we were expected to use anything and everything to save the ship, regardless of how vicious it might be.
I said, “Talos, can you update us on how many enemy troops are located in the corridor near the airlock?”
Talos said, “Yes, Ma’am. There are eleven enemy soldiers near the airlock that I was unable to close and seal. The rest of that corridor is empty.”
I asked, “How close are they to the airlock?”
“All are within thirty feet,” Talos said. “I still cannot see the actual airlock hatch, but it is not the LU-18 that is holding it open. It is probably a smaller weapon or something else not easily crushed.”
I said, “Then where is the LU-18?”
Talos said, “The enemy has mounted it on a tripod and aimed it at the next hatch. Their intent is evidently to defeat what you are trying to accomplish.”
Astrid's War Page 12