Battlegroup Vega

by Anders Raynor

  “Movement at thirty,” Sergeant Mortensen alerted the squad.

  The barrels of the rifles jerked in the direction he’d indicated.

  “Ignore that, just a ghost,” he grumbled.

  Mortensen, the squad leader, was a two-meter-tall bodybuilder with steel-gray eyes. He was among the fiercest warriors of the Alliance. Riley was happy to have him by her side.

  The squad moved forward. The walls parted, and the passageway led them to a catwalk above a chasm.

  “There’s an elevator on the other side,” Riley said. “It’ll take us to the cell block.”

  The marines crept forward, the beams of their flashlights struggling through the fog. “Contact!” Mortensen yelled.

  Several dots blinked on the screen of Riley’s motion tracker. The blasters rattled, and streams of plasma bolts crisscrossed the space above the catwalk.

  One of the marines screamed as a dark appendage pierced him through the chest and sent him flying into a wall. Another marine was struck by a macrospore bullet and fell into the chasm.

  “Move, move!” Riley shouted, rushing forward and discharging her blaster carbine at the dark figures dashing through the fog. “To the elevator!”

  Her Zahn ZBC 10-mm blaster was lighter than the Lenny, and with her bionic strength she could fire it one-handed in burst mode without compromising accuracy or stability. Compared with its heavier cousin, it traded rate of fire for higher stopping power.

  She reached the other side of the chasm when something hit her. Her weapon escaped her grip. She lost footing and collapsed on the floor. An appendage coiled around her neck, squeezed her windpipe, and dragged her toward the chasm.

  “Go, go, don’t stop!” she ordered her squad, clenching the appendage to ease the pressure on her throat.

  From the corner of her eye, she saw the survivors of Squad Atlas dashing to the elevator. The doors closed and the cabin started its ascent, taking the marines to the cell block.

  Several dots converged toward her on the motion tracker. Now she was alone.

  26

  Omega mission

  Riley drew her plasma dagger and cut the appendage that was strangling her. Then she activated her thrust pack.

  She soared.

  Jetpacks exist only in movies and entertainment parks. Space marines used thruster packs, which allow for mobility in zero-G, although not designed for use in confined spaces. But Riley had no choice.

  Her ascent was so fast she didn’t have time to adjust her course and brushed the wall of the chasm. Cutting the thrusters, she landed on another catwalk some thirty meters above the ambush.

  A volley of macrospore bullets punched through the catwalk. She rolled to dodge the projectiles, drew her Wells-12, and fired at the shadowy figures dashing through the fog below her.

  The handgun didn’t let her down. At close range, its bolts punched through the toughest Biozi biosuits and exploded, inflicting lethal wounds. Two troopers tumbled into the void with burning holes in their armor.

  The catwalk shuddered as a Biozi landed on it. She turned her blaster. One of his tails lashed at her like a whip and sent her sidearm flying into the void. She activated a shield on her left forearm designed to stop Biozi corrosive substances, including macrospores. Made of silver-titanium-carbon nanoalloy, it gleamed under the red light from above.

  The trooper’s tails thrust toward Riley, fast as cobras. She parried, and the stings bounced against her shield. She drew her plasma dagger again and waited for the right moment to counterattack.

  But she sensed movement behind her and quickly turned around. Another trooper aimed the barrel of his spore launcher at her and fired. She parried the macrospore bullet with her shield and pounced on him.

  One of the trooper’s tails whizzed through the air. She dodged it and slashed his throat with her plasma blade.

  The first trooper charged. His tails thrashed about, slashing the catwalk’s railing. One of his claws grazed Riley’s helmet. She spun around like a dervish on stims to evade his attacks.

  The catwalk cracked and snapped, sending both Riley and the trooper into the void. When she tried to activate her thrust pack, a red icon flashed on her HUD, indicating that the pack was malfunctioning. The trooper’s stings must have damaged it during the fight.

  One of the trooper’s tails coiled around the railing of another catwalk. Riley grabbed his legs. He screeched and thrust his other tail at her. That proved to be a mistake, as she gripped it, and when the tail retracted, she was lifted high enough to catch the edge of the catwalk with her free hand. With the other hand, she wrapped the Biozi’s tail around his neck and squeezed.

  The trooper grabbed his own tail to ease the pressure on his throat, and that was his second mistake. Riley had been counting on it. She let go of the tail and used both arms to haul herself up onto the catwalk.

  She dashed to the corpse of a marine and drew a Wells-12 from a holster on his thigh. When the Biozi she’d fought jumped on the catwalk, she shot him in the face. He staggered backward, lost footing, and tumbled into the void. Riley watched him disappear into the crimson mist of the chasm.

  She exhaled with relief. Her shoulder was burning, hit earlier by a macrospore. Her body armor bore numerous scratches and traces of impacts.

  Is that the last of them?

  Yet her motion tracker blipped again. Another trooper emerged from the fog, protecting himself with a blaster-resistant shield. He aimed a plasma rifle at her.

  A blast reverberated through the chasm. The Biozi collapsed, a billow of smoke rising from his back. A massive figure stepped out of the fog.

  “Mortensen! You disobeyed my direct order?”

  He grinned at her. “Negative, ma’am. I did obey your order. But I also followed our code—never leave a comrade behind.”

  Riley staggered to her feet. “You came back for me. I appreciate that, sarge. What’s the situation?”

  “Cell block secured.”

  “Nice job. Let’s get out of here.”

  They took the elevator to the cell block. The marines were escorting the freed prisoners to the autopods.

  “Riley?”

  She recognized this voice and turned to the woman who had addressed her.

  “Adisa!”

  Riley recognized her comrade from the days of the resistance, even though she hadn’t seen her for years. Adisa had changed, her retroforming now complete, but Riley couldn’t forget the expression of her brown eyes.

  “It’s been a while, Riley.”

  Adisa’s presence in this place intrigued Riley, but she didn’t have time to ask questions. “We’ll catch up later,” she said. “We’re not out the asteroids yet, figuratively speaking.”

  Adisa nodded. “I want to help. You know I have combat experience. Give me a blaster, and—”

  “Sorry, can’t do. ASF rules.”

  Adisa’s eyes flashed with frustration, but she didn’t insist. “I understand. See you later, Riley. Good stars, and take care.”

  Riley broke radio silence and requested all platoons to check in. Platoon leaders informed her of the situation. Her plan was working; once the forcefields had been disabled in the Biozi cell blocks, inmates in those blocks had rebelled. It was unusual for the law-obedient Taar’kuun to rebel, but the circumstances were exceptional, as the detainees were political prisoners.

  While the guards were busy quelling this uprising, Squads Atlas and Bellum had secured the human prisoner cell blocks. Platoon Two had also met its objective and taken the bridge.

  The ships of Battlegroup Vega had jumped into the system and were on their way to evacuate the freed prisoners. The Trojan wasn’t big enough to accommodate all of them.

  Captain Hunt called Riley on her direct channel. “Commander, Omega mission, classified. I’m sending you the location of high-value Biozi prisoners. Escort them to the nearest hangar and protect them at all costs.”

  Omega meant absolute priority.

  “Sir—”
/>   “Don’t ask any questions,” Hunt interrupted her. “President’s direct orders.”

  Riley gave her platoon new orders. “Squad Bellum and Castor, escort the civvies to the extraction point. Squad Atlas, you’re with me. Omega mission, need-to-know basis only.”

  “Roger, commander,” Mortensen acknowledged. “We’ll keep our eyes peeled and mouths shut.”

  The squad took an autopod to the location transmitted by Captain Hunt. As it was racing through a transparent maglev conduit, Riley saw the devastation the Biozi prisoner uprising had caused. Corpses littered the floor; thousands of inmates and guards alike were joined in death.

  Deep down, she empathized with the political prisoners. She remembered how it felt to be incarcerated in a Biozi cell, cut from the outside world by a forcefield. She remembered the feelings of powerlessness and rage. By ordering her hacker to disable the forcefields, she’d given the political prisoners a fighting chance.

  The autopod reached a transit hub and stopped. A group of Biozi inmates was waiting for the marines, armed with weapons taken from the guards.

  “Hold your fire,” Riley told the marines. “Our mission: protect and escort them to the nearest hangar.”

  The two groups didn’t exchange a word as they progressed through empty corridors flooded with crimson light. The hulk was silent as a crypt. Sensors weren’t registering any hostiles, and motion trackers were equally clear.

  “Platoon Two reporting,” shouted the lieutenant leading that platoon on the op channel. Riley heard the noises of the firefight in the background. “Hostiles have launched a counterattack to retake the bridge. Taking casualties.”

  “Hold tight, I’m sending reinforcements,” Riley replied. “Platoon One, Squads Atlas and Bellum, proceed to the bridge and assist Platoon Two. Platoon Three, keep the civvies safe.”

  “Commander, the crew has activated an emergency protocol,” the hacker warned Riley. “They’re retaking control of the hulk’s nervous system. If they succeed, we’ll lose control of everything: doors, forcefields, autopods, and internal defense systems.”

  If they retake the bridge, they’ll also have control of the weapons systems. They could wipe out our ships.

  “Platoon Two, report,” Riley called. “What’s the situation on the bridge?”

  Blaster fire filled the background. “We’re holding for now, but we won’t be able to repel the bugs indefinitely.”

  She wondered why the Biozi prisoners she was escorting were so important. Was it worth risking the entire op for them?

  As in response to her thoughts, one of them matched her pace and walked beside her. The tips of his appendages gleamed like green neon lights. “Let us help,” he rasped. “I need access to a terminal.”

  Riley didn’t like that, but she thought she had nothing to lose at that point. She escorted the Biozi to the nearest terminal. He activated its holo-screen and his fingers danced on the control panel.

  “I don’t believe this,” the hacker said. “All ship’s systems are powering down. What happened?”

  “You don’t need the bridge,” the Biozi said. “I have full control over ship’s systems.”

  Riley contacted Captain Hunt, informed him of the situation, and requested permission to evacuate the bridge. Given the importance of this decision, she wanted his blessing. He agreed.

  She gave the evacuation order to all platoons, then turned to the Biozi and muted all channels. “How did you manage to pull that off?”

  His orange eyes blazed as he glanced at her. “I am the one who invented this biosynthetic nervous system.”

  Riley stared at him in puzzlement, wondering how such a high-ranking bioengineer could end up as a prisoner on the hulk, but didn’t ask any follow-up questions, as she remembered the captain’s orders: need-to-know basis only.

  “I will remain here to ensure that the crew doesn’t retake control of the systems,” the Taar’kuun bioengineer added. “I will ensure the hangar doors remain open and the weapons remain offline.”

  “But you’ll be captured or killed,” Riley objected.

  He drew his blaster. “The traitor’s henchmen will never take me alive. My life belongs to the legitimate chancellor of the Galactic State.”

  “You mean…” Suddenly, Riley understood why this mission was so important, why the leaders of the Alliance were willing to risk a battlegroup and a company of elite marines to carry it out. “You mean the chancellor is still alive?”

  The bioengineer lowered his blaster, but didn’t holster it. “Leave, human. Don’t meddle with things you cannot comprehend.”

  “Tell me, did the chancellor intend to sign the peace treaty with the Alliance? Do you think our species can coexist peacefully?”

  “It is not my place to comment on my master’s intentions. However, if you ask for my opinion, I can tell you this—I think humans should be re-assimilated. The Taar’kuun are a superior life form. Our species has a sacred mission—spread civilization throughout the universe. We could have wiped out mankind, but we didn’t. We made you part of our civilization, we extended your life expectancy by a factor of three, and gave you a quality of life your ancestors couldn’t dream of.”

  “You enslaved us and denied us our identity,” Riley snapped. “You lied to us, pretending that the Terrans—who were in fact our ancestors—destroyed their own world.”

  “The Taar’kuun did save you,” the Biozi insisted. “Mankind would have destroyed itself; it was only a matter of time. Did you know that Taar’kuun scouts visited Terra thousands of years ago, when your ancestors still lived in caves? I saw their reports and their holo-footages. The planet was magnificent, teeming with life. A jewel of the universe. What have you done to deserve such a beautiful world, Homo sapiens? And what have you done to it? You chopped down its forests, poisoned its atmosphere, polluted its oceans, massacred its animals for sport. Do you truly believe you deserved to be the guardians of Terra?”

  “That’s just TGS propaganda,” Riley retorted. “Maybe our ancestors did find a way to build a sustainable society.”

  The Taar’kuun’s eyes narrowed. “No, they didn’t, because your species is fundamentally flawed. My ancestors inherited a desert world and turned it into a paradise. Your ancestors inherited a paradise and turned it into a desert. Tell me, which species is superior? Which one deserves to dominate the galaxy?”

  Riley clenched her jaw, resisting the temptation to punch the Biozi in the face. “The way I see it, we have a common enemy—Raak’naar. That makes us allies, for now. But make no mistake—we’ll never forget what you did to mankind.”

  She turned around and ordered her squad to proceed to the hangar. She was sure it was heavily defended, although her scanners couldn’t determine the strength and the disposition of enemy forces.

  “Commander Lance to Captain Hunt,” she called on the op channel. “Request fire support on designated position.”

  “Copy, commander,” Hunt replied. “The Phenix is sending a squadron to clear the way for you.”

  Tomahawk fighter-bombers fired anti-personnel rockets into the hangar and adjacent corridors, turning them into an inferno.

  Biozi troopers rushed from the blaze, only to be cut down by marine’s blasters. Riley aimed her carbine and squeezed the trigger every time a Biozi helmet appeared on her scope. She delivered short bursts, three shots in rapid succession. The first two weakened the biosynthetic tissue the helmet was made of, and the third punched through and burned the Biozi’s head.

  Once the hangar was secured and the flames died out, Riley and her marines escorted the Taar’kuun VIPs to a transport ship equipped with a black hole drive. It survived the inferno unscathed thanks to its thermo-resistant carapace.

  She watched as the ship took off and cleared the hangar using maneuvering thrusters, then fired its main thrusters to disappear into the murky mass of a dust cloud.

  “Commander Lance to Captain Hunt. Omega mission accomplished. There are still thousands of
Biozi prisoners on the hulk; what do we do about them?”

  “Nothing,” Hunt replied. “They’re not our problem. Biozi reinforcements are moving on your position. Get out of there.”

  Riley thought of the bioengineer willing to sacrifice his life to allow his comrades to escape. She couldn’t help but admire his courage, even though he was on the enemy’s side. But was he? If the chancellor who wanted to make peace with the Alliance was still alive, and he had supporters, who was the enemy?

  Yet she didn’t have time for such pondering. She needed to get her people off the hulk. There was an undamaged Biozi shuttle in the hangar, and she ordered her squad to get on board.

  As the shuttle took off, the first wave of reinforcements arrived and started shooting. The shuttle carapace withstood small arms’ fire, and it left the hulk without suffering any major damage.

  A squadron of Rapiers escorted the shuttle to the Phenix. The hulk had deployed starfighters, but the ASF interceptors kept the Arachnids busy and prevented them from engaging the transport ships.

  “Lance, you can relax now.” That was Jason’s voice on her direct channel. “You’re in good hands.”

  “Thanks for the assist, Blaze.” Her face lit up, even though her even tone didn’t betray the relief she felt to know he was alive.

  He clicked his tongue. “Dunno, there’s something unsatisfying about this whole thing.”

  “What are you talking about? The op is a success. We freed all human prisoners.”

  “Something’s missing. We should’ve ended with a big boom. Blow the hulk to smithereens.”

  Riley chuckled. “You watch too many action holo-movies. Why should there be a huge explosion at the end of every op? I’m looking forward to catching up with an old comrade I haven’t seen in years—that’s the kind of happy ending I like.”