by Doug Hoffman
“How are we doin' on picking up survivors planetside?” the gruff oilman asked. Well into his seventies, Parker was a force of nature even though confined to a tricked out gyro-stabilized, four-wheel drive electric wheel chair. More than anyone, it had been Parker who held things together on the moon base as the asteroids began to fall on Earth. By shear strength of will he prevented the people of the partly staffed lunar base from falling into despondency.
The people of Farside Base had watched with horror as the 24 hour bombardment of their home world killed most everything they had ever loved and cherished. They were without weapons to defend themselves—the six corvettes were not yet operational, and would have been unable to do anything about the massive attack if they had been. As the attacking alien vessel flew past Earth and headed for the outer reaches of the solar system TK had fought to keep the base functioning. Then, a light delayed signal from the Peggy Sue arrived, saying that they were back in the system and to hold on, they were on their way.
A hectic month ensued as the veterans from Peggy Sue helped organize the inexperienced Farside personnel. They were soon scouting the shattered Earth looking for survivors with useful skill sets—soldiers, scientists, technicians and support personnel to help run humanity's outpost on the Moon. Though it pained them, the crew and base personnel recognized that they could not save even a small fraction of those left behind on Earth. But what they could do was to rearm the Peggy Sue, finish outfitting the corvettes and assemble a Marine force to strike back at those who had so violently invaded the solar system.
A little more than a month after the surprise attack, a counterstrike mission was launched with Captain Curtis in command and newly commissioned Capt. Rodriguez leading the Marines. Being able to focus on striking back enabled the base leaders to skirt the edge of chaos and collapse, at least for a while. Unfortunately, it had now been nearly a month since the Peggy Sue and Task Force Alpha had left to hunt down and kill the invaders, and during that time mankind's precarious position weighed heavily on those at Farside.
“We have a dozen shuttles of all sizes working around the clock searching for candidate personnel,” said a weary Ludmilla. Since returning she had assumed an administrative role at the base. She was now addressed as colonel more often than doctor, much to her personal displeasure. She had worked for years to leave her military past behind but necessity now required she take up the mantle of command. Having made first contact with aliens during the voyages of the Peggy Sue, and having fought against some of them at close quarters, lent a cachet to her military rank that could not be matched by anyone else among humanity's survivors. Only Commander Curtis or Captain Sutton could match her practical experience, and with Gretchen out hunting aliens and Jack lost God knows where she was left charge.
“Finding military personnel is not proving to be a problem,” she said. “If anything we have too many anxious warriors, all hoping to kill aliens. We have found isolated units from many major countries—the U.S., the UK, Russia, Japan, Scandinavia, even a company of the Légion étrangère.”
“French Foreign Legion? Where did we find them?” asked an incredulous TK.
“In the mountains of Djibouti, high above the African Rift Valley. They were cutoff and lost like so many others,” Ludmilla answered tiredly. “Ground troops we have many, finding sailors for the space navy is another thing.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Differing skills. Marines, SAS, Special Forces, Spetznaz are all trained to engage the enemy at close quarters, even hand-to-hand, and to survive off the land. Not much opportunity for that under present circumstances. We have had some success in picking up crews from submarines, however.”
TK gave Ludmilla a questioning look.
“Being in a submarine is probably as close to traveling around in a starship as you can come on Earth. Cramped quarters, isolation for months at a time, it is a better fit than other naval duty. Not that we would turn down any former navy personnel—it is just that few surface ships survived the tsunamis from the bombardment. Air force pilots and crew seem to adapt to the shuttles and even the corvettes fairly well, but when we get a few of the frigates built we are going to be hard pressed to fill out their crews.”
“You are probably right, Ludmilla,” Rajiv said in a conciliatory tone of voice, “but remember, we were all rookies at this not that long ago.”
Ludmilla snorted, “That is true enough, Rajiv, I guess we all have to start somewhere.”
Rajiv and the science staff from the Peggy Sue were driving themselves at a torturous pace. Yuki Saito, Olaf Gunderson, Elena Piscopia, Melissa Scott Hamilton and Dieter Schmitt had all assumed positions as department heads, leading multiple projects intended to expand the base, construct new weaponry, build new ships and a thousand and one other things. All this in the hope of dragging humanity back from the edge of extinction.
“We are finding plenty of willing scientific personnel,” Rajiv added. “The problem is finding things for them all to do. Most require additional training to do useful work with T'aafhal technology—to end up sitting in a classroom after traveling to the Moon is not very satisfying to most.” He paused thoughtfully.
“We have managed to expand the polar bear contingent to 42,” Isbjørn inserted into the gap in the others' conversation. “It was fortunate that none of the impacts occurred in the Arctic but the effects on the atmosphere have led to massive storms planet wide. I'm not sure we will be able to continue the search for more bears until the weather settles.”
“How are the new bears adapting?” asked Ludmilla.
“They are confused and a bit angry. We had to load the most unruly of them into a large shuttle and show them what was happening on Earth. Even so, some wanted to be released on the surface to fend for themselves.”
“I fear that the weather will be growing even worse in the near-term,” Rajiv said, sadly shaking his head. “The immediate effects of the impacts—mostly heavy overcast from dust in the atmosphere, leading to storms and significant cooling—could remain for several years, judging by studies of volcanic eruptions in the past.”
“I've been trying to explain that to the new bears, but they are a skeptical lot. We just do not have enough experienced bears to teach the others, at least not with eight bears from the first group of recruits being on the hunting expedition.”
Seizing the chance to change the subject, TK asked: “Speaking of Task-force Alpha and the alien hunt, what's the latest word?”
Ludmilla sighed. “The last report was about a half hour ago. Gretchen said that they were closing on the enemy and expected to engage shortly. Given the almost five hour transmission delay they may have attacked already. In fact, the battle is probably already over.”
“The lack of instant communications is drivin' me crazy. We've all grown so use to 24 hour cable news, smart phones and text messaging. It's like going back to the age of sailing ships and mail delivered by pony express.”
“Sadly, that is something we cannot change, TK. We can only await word from the task force and pray that it will be good news when it arrives,” Ludmilla said, once again giving voice to Russian fatalism. “Regardless, we will know the outcome of the fight in a few hours—one way or the other.”
Task Force Alpha, Sol's Kuiper Belt
“Maintain our position, Mr. Taylor,” Gretchen commanded. “It would appear that most of the fight has gone out of our opponent.” The enemy's defenses had proven weak and ineffective, quickly withering before the task force's attack.
“Aye aye, Ma'am,” the laconic helmsman drawled in his best cowboy accent. With the results of the attack undeniably successful the atmosphere on the bridge had shifted from tense to confident. Next to him, Nigel Lewis, Billy Ray's co-pilot, checked his instruments.
“The torpedo strikes from the corvettes have severed the bow section and our initial railgun fire blew the engines off straight away.”
On the main forward display was a view of the enemy s
hip, its swollen head half filled with replacement asteroids. As the bridge crew watched the bulbous bow moved perceptibly away from the main body of the ship, slowly rotating as it disengaged. It moved with the stately grace that large objects do when viewed from a great distance.
“What we have left is about three kilometers of hull that is dead in space, though we seem to be taking occasional hits from coherent EM radiation,” the Englishman continued. “Frequency is in the infrared, not really a problem since we are jinking about quite a bit. They don't seem to be able to stay on us.”
“It looks like the laser fire is coming from a number of locations on the alien's hull,” added Jo Jo Medina, “We should probably neutralize it before sending in the Marines.”
“Sounds like a good suggestion, Mr. Medina. Task Force Alpha, Peggy Sue, please direct your attention to the IR laser positions along the alien's hull. As soon as they are suppressed we will commence boarding operations.”
Marine Landing Shuttles, Approaching Alien Ship
The Peggy Sue's two large shuttles were packed full of Marines in space armor. Each craft carried two squads, twelve humans and two bears per squad. All were encased in power augmented, refractory armor designed to turn away projectiles up to 15mm and absorb hits by plasma and laser weapons.
The human Marines' standard weapon was a multi-barreled railgun in an over-under configuration. The upper barrel fired high-density 5mm flechettes at up to 6,000 fps, with a selectable cyclic rate of up to 1,200 rounds per minute. The lower barrel was a general purpose, 20mm launcher that fired high explosive shells filled with nano-engineered enhanced explosive. The shells could be fired time-on-target, exploding at a range preset by the built-in laser range finder, or set to detonate on contact. By altering the detonation timing within the warhead a shell could act as normal HE or an armor piercing shaped charge. And if things really got up close and personal, the 20mm could also fire canister rounds—basically bundles of flechettes that acted as mega shotgun shells.
As formidably armed as the human Marines were, the polar bears carried even more firepower. Each carried either a 15mm, triple barreled railgun cannon, which fired high velocity explosive rounds at 1200 rounds per minute, or a five barreled railgun firing 5mm flechettes at a sustained 6,000 per minute. The bears' large size allowed for ample ammunition loads and, if all else failed, they could extend the metal claws built into their suits' forearms and deal with their foes the old fashioned way.
The shuttles themselves were also much different from the original ones the Peggy Sue came with. Those were decked out for hauling passengers or freight and were similar in their appointments to civilian airliners. These shuttles were designed from the start as assault craft, intended to deliver 28 Marines to a battle-zone under hostile fire. They were heavily armored and also mounted port and starboard 15mm railgun cannons and a top mounted X-ray laser close support system for dealing with incoming enemy fire.
Shuttle One, containing Capt. Rodriguez and 1st & 2nd squads, was piloted by Nigel Lewis with Pauline Palmer as copilot. Both had been on board during the second voyage of the Peggy Sue. Shuttle Two had Skip Tanner as pilot and Jake Sontag, a brand new addition to the crew, as copilot. Tanner had shown bravery and clear thinking during the fracas in the Bug Queen's Palace on the second voyage, being badly wounded in the process. He, even more than others in the task force, was looking to even the score.
They were less than a hundred kilometers out when Capt. Rodriguez's voice came over the command frequency: “OK, listen up Marines. We are about to ram into this big alien bastard at about 500 kph. The science dweebs and engineers say we should penetrate the alien's hull with only minor exterior damage. Inside we are protected by the shuttles' deck gravity and shouldn't get a scratch.
“Shuttle Two will strike forward, near what we hope is the bridge area. Squads 3 & 4 under Lt. Westfield will neutralize any resistance and seize the bridge. They are designated BP-2. We are hoping to find equipment we can get some Intel from—in particular, where these assholes came from.
“Shuttle One will strike aft, just forward of what we think is the antimatter storage area. Squads 1 & 2's objective is to seize any AM present and prevent the aliens from scuttling the ship. They are designated BP-1. Once we have attained our initial objectives both forces will advance toward each other to mop up any remaining aliens. Any questions?”
“What about prisoners, Captain?” someone asked.
“If there are some of 'em left alive to question that's fine. Just don't go out of your way to capture any. We don't know what kind of reception we are going to get, so err on the side of caution—when in doubt use overwhelming force. Understood?”
“AYE AYE, SIR!” flooded the radio channel.
“Captain Rodriguez,” called Lt. Lawson from the cockpit. “We are impacting in 10, 9, 8...”
* * * * *
The shuttles used their 15mm cannon to partially blast through the alien's hull and momentum did the rest. The heavily armored shuttles penetrated the last meter of solid hull by force majeure before lodging in a surprisingly open space.
Surprising in that the ship's interior was a confusing jumble, crisscrossed with trusses and girders, supporting enclosed structures linked by tubular passageways and piping. It was like being inside of a skyscraper that was only a shell, its interior left unfinished and mostly empty. The space the Marines emerged into was under vacuum with the crew, if there was one, presumably confined to structures embedded in the web of beams and girders.
After penetrating the outer hull of the alien ship, Shuttle One immediately released a half dozen free floating surveillance drones. They fanned out in all directions, transmitting the layout of the ship's interior back to the Marines. The alien ship's outer hull was composed of both metallic and rocky material—undoubtedly extracted from asteroids—and provided significant shielding from radiation. That included radio frequencies used by the Marines to communicate with the Peggy Sue and the Marines in Shuttle Two. An exterior relay was soon rigged through the hole the shuttle had plowed on entry, re-establishing contact with the ships of Task Force Alpha.
There was a large enclosed area aft and another smaller one forward. Capt. Rodriguez took the aft compartment to be the antimatter storage and ordered her Marines to breach the structure, using minimal explosive force.
“Captain, we got a bunch of them big egg things in here,” called a corporal whose name she couldn't recall at the moment. “What should we do?”
“Cut any wires or cables leading to the egg racks. Those storage eggs have fail safes that should cause them to lock up tight if the mechanism they are attached to loses power,” said Technical Sergeant Fukushima. Fukushima had been given a crash course in alien antimatter technology by the scientists back at Farside before departure. Despite all the chaos and diversity in the galaxy, one constant factor seemed to be that all species used the same standard antimatter containers, a design that must have originated millions of years ago.
“What if cutting the cables sets 'em off,” came the reply.
“In that case, Corporal, we will never know what happened,” Rodriguez snapped. “Now cut the damned cables.”
“Aye aye, Ma'am.”
OK, securing the antimatter was priority one, second priority is to make sure the aft spaces are clear of aliens she thought. “Sgt. Tuttle, take your fireteam and sweep the spaces aft, I don't want any surprises from our rear.”
“Aye aye, Captain.”
Next, set a blocking position to keep any of the crew from making their way aft. “Sgt. Aurora. Deploy 1st squad forward and cover anything trying to come aft from that next set of enclosed structures.”
“Aye aye, Ma'am,” the she-bear replied. Many bears were still having problems understanding the concepts of “rank” and “chain of command.” Mostly, the bears just wanted to get in a position so they could attack the enemy and didn't much care who was in charge. Aurora was more perceptive and, because she got on well with human
s, had been promoted to sergeant and put in charge of 1st squad.
As the Marines moved out to follow their orders the Corporal from the antimatter storage, who Jennifer remembered was named Green, called back. “Captain, We got these egg things lose from the racks they was in. What should we do with them?”
“Wait one, Green,” Jennifer changed frequencies and called the ship. “Peggy Sue, Rodriguez.”
“Go, Captain Rodriguez.” Captain Curtis was anxiously monitoring the Marines' progress from the CIC, where the central 3D display showed an expanding X-ray view of the alien vessel. As the robot survey drones made their way into the ship from both ends, that view became more detailed. The position and vital signs of each Marine were also noted and transmitted back to the ship.
“We have secured the aliens' antimatter store and taken up positions in both fore and aft sections of the hull. We are sending the recon drones into the hull sections we have not yet entered.”
“Affirmative, move the antimatter to the shuttle ASAP. The sooner we get it away from the hulk the safer we will all be.”
“Roger that, Peggy Sue. So far we have encountered no appreciable resistance...”
Bridge, Destroyer of Worlds
“The aliens have breached the outer hull fore and aft, and are blasting their way into the pressurized internal sections, Captain” one of the crew reported.
“Get the crew into pressure suits and issue weapons.” The Captain scurried over to a bank of controls, thinking, if the crew can hold off these monsters for a few minutes I should be able to set off the scuttling charges. At least we will take them with us into the void.
With several forearms the Captain executed the complex sequence that would command the ship to destroy itself, detonating a number of antimatter charges in the aft section of the hull. The key was to create sympathetic explosions in the antimatter store. That would blast the entire ship to atoms.
