by James Rosone
The soldiers opened the doors to each of the corridors, and the drone operator sent an equal number of Dragonflies down each exit. The drones would travel near the ceiling, hopefully out of eyesight. As they traveled further inside the station, they’d emit a small radar signal that would help them map the inside of the base. The Dragonflies also used a special electronic scanner that would allow them to see through a wall to map out the layout of the room on the other side.
While their drone operator was getting the drones going to help them build a better picture of the layout of the base, another soldier used a small scanner that allowed them to see through the walls of the storage room they were in. The device provided a more detailed version of the types of images the drones could create.
“I got something over here!” called out a couple of the soldiers excitedly.
Royce and half the platoon made their way over to the corporal who’d called out to them.
“What do you have, Corporal?” Royce asked tersely. He had a lot to juggle, now managing three platoons of people.
“Sir, on the opposite side of this wall appears to be our primary objective, the hangar. From what we can see, there are a handful of Zodarks inside the room. I think we can gain entry to the place if we go out this corridor here,” the soldier said, pointing to one of the entrances, “then turn right and follow it down five or ten meters. The entrance to the hangar should be just to our right.”
Royce squinted as he looked at the image. He overlaid it on top of the images the little scout drones were feeding them, and what the corporal said matched up with what the drone had mapped out.
“Good call, Corporal,” said Royce. “Excellent find.” He turned to his lieutenant. “Let’s get the platoon moving. We need to secure that hangar ASAP. Go ahead and disperse the terminators. Cut ’em loose and let ’em cause some chaos for us while we fortify our positions.”
The next couple of minutes saw a flurry of activity as the drone operator fed the terminators the layout of the station that the Dragonflies had provided thus far. The C100s synced themselves up with the scout drones and would leverage them as their eyes and ears while they moved through the station.
As the drones moved out, the platoon left the warehouse and made their way towards the hangar. They reached the hangar door and prepared to enter.
I’m going to try and unlock the door, said the platoon sergeant over the neurolink. Everyone stand by to breach.
The sergeant placed the unlocking device on the keypad of the hangar bay door and tapped on it a few times. The light on the electronic device switched from red to green. Moments later, the hangar door hissed and retracted into the wall.
When the door opened, a half dozen stunned Zodarks turned to see a group of soldiers standing there, weapons drawn and aimed right at them. For the briefest of moments, no one moved or said anything. Then one of the Zodarks attempted to raise his blaster up to shoot at them, and that was when the Deltas opened up. In seconds, they had cut the enemy soldiers down before they had a chance to react.
The Special Forces soldiers rushed forward, sweeping the massive facility for any other Zodarks that might be lurking behind something or possibly hiding in one of the many shuttles or fighters. It took the soldiers less than five minutes to clear the hangar and officially declare it captured and secured.
Captain Hopper sent a message back to the Midway to bring the rest of their troops and C100s over, along with the RA soldiers from the Tripoli. Now that they had a beachhead secured, they needed to flood in reinforcements before the Zodarks realized what was happening.
“Captain Royce, sir—one group of terminators ran into some stiff resistance,” said one of the platoon leaders. “Do you want me to dispatch a team to help them?” The young lieutenant had just joined his company a few months back.
Royce scanned the situation on his HUD. Two pairs of C100s had run into a Zodark quick reaction force that had probably been dispatched to figure out what was going on in the hangar. Royce turned to face the lieutenant. “Yes, take Second and Third Squad to assist them,” he ordered.
Pausing for a second, Royce searched the map on his HUD. There you are, he thought.
“The Dragonfly found our secondary target—that research lab the G2 asked us to secure if we could,” Royce announced. “It’s over here.” He tagged the location on his HUD’s digital map. “Tell First Squad to do their best to secure the lab with our remaining C100s until I can send more reinforcements from the Midway and the Tripoli. Got it?”
The lieutenant nodded and took off to make it happen, barking orders to the squad leaders.
The next incoming Osprey was supposed to gain entry into the station via one of the access hatches like Royce’s platoon had. However, when several enemy fighters broke through their fighter cover, the Osprey broke off their approach to the station so they wouldn’t get taken out as they sat there attached to the side of the station in full view of the enemy fighters. Since Captain Royce had signaled that they had secured the hangar, the Osprey pilot made a mad dash to get them inside and offload his human cargo.
Royce looked nervously at the shield protecting the hangar from the vacuum of space. He turned to their Primord commando. “Are you sure our shuttle will be able to land without bouncing off the shield or being ripped apart?” he pressed.
The allied commando tapped away at a control panel in what appeared to be the nerve center or control center for the hangar. The outer shield shimmered briefly and then changed colors slightly. “I just disabled the shield,” the Prim replied. “They’ll be able to enter now without a problem.”
Captain Royce shook his head at how close they were cutting things. “Maybe you should have done that before I called for reinforcements.”
The Prim shrugged. “I would have told you to wave the shuttle off if I couldn’t get the shield taken down. It’s taken care of now. They can go ahead and land.”
Royce looked through the deactivated shield—there was just enough color to tell that it was still there, keeping the vacuum of space from sucking everything out. Outside the membrane that would now allow ships to enter, the battle was still raging; fighters circled some of the Prim and human ships. Zodark ships were being hammered by the human magrail turrets. Control over the area around the station and the planet was still being heavily contested.
While he was observing the battle, Royce caught a glimpse of an Osprey angling in towards the station and the hangar bay he was in. Watching the craft, Royce could see stabs of light from lasers darting all around the Osprey. He was surprised it hadn’t taken a hit or two but immensely glad it hadn’t. Nearly sixty of his men were packed in the back of that thing. Moments later, the Osprey glided inside the hangar and made its way towards an empty parking slot near them.
The craft set down not far from Royce and dropped the rear hatch; the platoon of soldiers and ten additional C100s trotted off. When the platoon leader made his way over to him, Royce told his lieutenant to hold the Synths back in reserve along with two of the four squads. The other two squads were sent forward to reinforce the units currently fighting the Zodark patrols engaging his soldiers.
For the next thirty minutes, the fighting inside the base intensified immensely. The Osprey that had brought Royce and his platoon to the station had sealed the hole they had cut into and left. They darted back to the Midway to load up with more soldiers and equipment.
While the fighting in the station increased, the fight outside the station also raged on. The human and Primord ships assaulting the area continued fighting the remaining Zodark ships, which just wouldn’t quit or retreat. They were apparently determined to fight to the death despite being hopelessly outnumbered.
Moments later, the nose of the next Osprey carrying Royce’s Third Platoon penetrated the forcefield of the hangar bay. In seconds, the craft made its way towards an empty parking spot.
Damn, we need to figure out how to integrate that kind of tech into our ships, thought Roy
ce. He admired how all these different races had solved so many of the technical challenges of being a spacefaring race.
The pilot moved the craft to one side of the cavernous facility and then shut down its engines. After they entered the facility, a T-92 Starlifter maneuvered in next. Starlifters were the heavy-lift shuttles for moving lots of cargo, armored vehicles or a lot of infantry all at once. They were practically defenseless since they only carried two CIWS weapons, but they more than made up for it with what they could carry—up to four hundred and twenty soldiers, or twenty-six palletized pieces of equipment, six light armored vehicles, four tanks, or even sixteen mechs. They typically weren’t used unless the battlespace was cleared, but in this case, they needed to land a lot of troops quickly. As the T92 set down, a second one lined up its approach and moved forward.
Once the transports had successfully docked, the ships disgorged their soldiers and additional equipment. In addition to bringing Captain Royce’s three other platoons, they also brought four hundred C100 combat Synths and the 1st Orbital Assault Battalion, ready for action.
Captain Royce eyed the lead Synth and walked straight for him. “Sync up with the other Synths on the ship. They have the intel for immediate action,” he ordered. He then tasked them with forming up in squad- and platoon-sized elements and ordered them to use the map information the Dragonfly drones had acquired for them to attack the various important targets on the ship.
A regular Army major saddled up to Royce, chest puffed out. This is my operation, Royce thought. I’m not going to cede control of it to a regular Army soldier, no matter how special he thinks he is.
“Are you Captain Brian Royce?” the major asked. Royce did his best to control his facial expressions. The regular Army soldiers, fitted out with the same body armor and weapons the Deltas used, were clearly uncomfortable—they didn’t carry themselves the same way as Special Forces soldiers did.
“I am. I’m the Delta commander for this mission. You must be Major Monsoor. How much of your battalion is here with you?” Royce asked.
“It’s good to meet you, Captain Royce. I think the last time we met, you were a lieutenant.”
Royce shrugged off the comment. “Well, casualties have a strange way of promoting people, Major. I’m sure if you and I live a few more years, we’ll both find ourselves promoted another grade or two.”
Major Monsoor laughed. “I think I’m going to like working with you,” he said. “So, what do you want my soldiers to do? I have about three-quarters of the battalion here with me right now: about eight hundred and ten soldiers. The rest will arrive on the next Starlifter, along with more of our supplies.”
Royce took in the information—eight hundred and ten battle-hardened regular Army soldiers would make a world of difference. “OK, Major, let’s walk over to my operations desk,” he said, and the two of them made their way over to the makeshift setup Royce was using at the moment.
“We sent dozens of our little Dragonflies to get us a working layout of this place,” Royce explained. “Now that I have another eighty C100s and another platoon to work with, we’ll go on the offense. If you believe your soldiers are capable of clearing and securing rooms or even a level of the station, then I’d like to assign you some targets. As I get more of my C100s and the rest of my platoons arrive, we’ll expand our footprint on this station to take it over.”
As Captain Royce explained the plan, the two of them stood in front of one of Royce’s operations soldiers. He had a computer set up on a cargo container and a small holographic projector displaying some information. He showed them the layout of the level of the station where they currently stood. Several of the Dragonflies had been discovered and destroyed, but close to fourteen were still operational, and they were working on finding ways to get to the other levels of the base.
They had a very detailed layout of the station and the number of Zodarks on their floor. One grouping of six C100s was heavily engaged. Two more Delta squads went to reinforce them, but clearly that bottleneck was going to be tough to break through. The Zodarks had heavily reinforced that section and were fighting like hell to keep the invaders contained.
In the opposite direction, Royce’s other two groups of C100s had gotten bogged down in two other corridors. The lone squad of Deltas that had been sent in that direction were holding the area they’d captured, but in need of reinforcements soon.
“Major, send a company-size element to support my two squads here,” Royce directed, pointing. “This is a tough fight as it’s mostly close quarters, but maybe some of your soldiers can figure out a way to blow a hole in some of these rooms and open up a way around the enemy position here.
“Down this hallway, I need at least a platoon or two worth of troops to assist my lone squad and four Synths holding it. Again, try to find a way around the enemy if possible. Establish one of your companies as a QRF to assist in case the enemy pushes our company back.
“Also, leave one of your companies here to hold the hangar bay. It’s critical that we keep this place secured and open to keep receiving more reinforcements,” Captain Royce explained as he gave the regular Army soldiers their new marching orders.
*******
Lieutenant Atkins signaled for everyone in the platoon to rally up on him. When they had all formed a half-circle, he started issuing orders. “Sergeant Smith, take your squad and head over to this location here.” He sent a set of coordinates on the hastily drawn map of the station to his HUD. “There’s a Delta squad with four C100s holding this area. It’s important that we hold it because further back, down the corridor, is a scientific lab the higher-ups want us to hold on to.”
Atkins then turned to Yogi. “Sergeant Sanders, I’m sending your squad to support Smith. He’s in charge, but you need to work together on this. We apparently have some exploitation teams coming over on the next transport. The rest of the platoon and I are going to make sure the area around the lab is secured while they go to work on exploiting whatever’s inside. They want to scan or video as much of it as possible and send it back for analysis. If you run into serious trouble, let me know and I’ll detail off another squad, but that’s probably about all I can send you unless we get more reinforcements. Remember, we just need to hold out for a few more hours until a battalion of terminators get here. Once they show up, they’ll help us finish taking the station. Hooah?”
“Hooah,” came the single-word reply.
*******
“OK, you heard the lieutenant. It’s time to earn our pay,” shouted Sergeant Paul “Pauli” Smith. “Let’s show these Deltas the regular Army grunts know how to fight and hold our own.” His little pep talk worked; his squad was pumped up.
Utilizing the HUD in their new helmets, Pauli strategized where they needed to go. He motioned for the rest of his troopers to follow him. The soldiers moved out of the hangar and down a dark and dingy corridor, a stark contrast to their own starbases, which were always well lit and clean. The Zodark corridors were also much wider than a human facility, and taller—it reminded Pauli of how much larger the Zodarks were than the humans.
As they advanced further away from the hangar, they eventually came to a bend in the corridor. When they crept around it, there was evidence of some intense fighting. The lab facility and area around it were pretty shot up, with bluish blood everywhere and the remains of five dead Zodarks strewn about.
The lab was being protected by a single C100, which reacted menacingly when they appeared from around the bend. Once it recognized them, it returned its gaze in the other direction, where the rest of the Zodarks soldiers were and where all the fighting was taking place.
“Come on, follow me,” Pauli said to his squad as he stepped over a few dead Zodark bodies. No matter how many times he saw one of them, they were still menacing, even dead.
As they approached the spot marked on their HUDs, Pauli suddenly heard a lot of shouting and shooting. He could hear M85 blaster fire, and the two heavier blasters were tearin
g into something. The SF soldiers ahead of them were clearly in a fight.
A figure appeared from around the corner. It was one of the Deltas. “I was told a couple of squads were headed my way. I’m Sergeant Riceman,” he said. “I’m sorry I don’t have a lot of time to talk or get to know you, but we’re in a hell of a fight right now. The rest of my squad is spread out up ahead trying to keep those blue monsters from overrunning our positions. Let me give you a breakdown of what I need from you.”
“Sounds like a plan. I’m Sergeant Smith, but everyone just calls me Pauli. This is Sergeant Sanders, but everyone calls him by his first name, Yogi. What do you need my squad to do?”
Sergeant Riceman motioned with his head for him and Sergeant Sanders to follow him over to the side of the corridor, away from the others. “Listen, it’s getting pretty hairy up there. Those damn Zodarks keep trying to charge us. We’re stuck in these confined corridors, which means we can’t get around them or do much of anything other than try to keep them from pushing past us.”
Sergeant Riceman shared a schematic of the area, or at least a display of what the little Dragonfly drones had created for them. “Behind you is a storage room. It’s just filled with some boxes. I have no idea what’s in them, but that’s not important. This right here is,” Riceman said as he highlighted the far end of a wall in the storage room. “Plant some explosives on that wall and bust a way through it. Once you gain access to this corridor, I need your squad to push through to this door leading to this large area.
“This is where the Zodarks are basing out of to storm our positions from. Get inside there and tear them up. Use your grenades or whatever you have to—but kill them all. Once you start the action, I’ll push my squad to link up with you. I only have two C100s left, so I’m going to have them protect the new opening you’re going to create in that room. I can’t have you leave half your squad there, and we sure as hell can’t leave it unguarded.”
