First Strike (The Kurgan War Book 1)

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First Strike (The Kurgan War Book 1) Page 5

by Richard Turner


  “Do you believe him?” Lefol asked the two soldiers.

  Cole shrugged his shoulders.

  “I’ve met people who are deathly afraid of enclosed spaces, so he could be telling the truth,” answered Sheridan.

  “I don’t know,” said Lefol. “The doc said he was heavily drugged up. Why would he need sedation if he’d already passed out?”

  Cole’s eyes narrowed as he looked back at the closed med bay door. “I take it you don’t trust him, Captain.”

  “At this moment, I’m not sure I trust you two.”

  With less than an hour to go until the Churchill arrived in orbit above Derra-5, Lefol was growing concerned that there had been no communications from the planet. If there were other vessels from the fleet ferrying men and equipment there, the comms channels would be filled with traffic.

  So far, nothing.

  She didn’t like it one bit. It was too much like the situation with the California. Lefol was beginning to suspect that the Kurgans were jamming the frequencies when her communications officer announced that she had Derra-5 on a secure channel.

  “On speaker,” said Lefol.

  “Go ahead, ma’am,” said the communications officer.

  “Derra-5 Operations, this is Captain Lefol of the Churchill, how do you read me?”

  “We read you loud and clear, Churchill,” replied a man’s voice over the ship’s speaker.

  “We are inbound with men and materials. What is the tactical situation there?”

  “It’s all quiet for the moment. Kurgan fighters have probed the outer defenses twice in the past day and a half. All were engaged and destroyed by our fighters flying combat patrol over the fleet.”

  Lefol’s eyes lit up. “Derra-5, did you say fleet?”

  “Roger that, most of the Fourth Fleet is in our sector.”

  “That’s good news,” replied Lefol.

  “Sure is, Churchill. Please come out of your jump above the capital. Exact coordinates are being relayed to your ship’s navigation-computer. Shuttlecraft are on standby to ferry your Marines and material down to the surface.”

  “Derra-5, we will arrive at your location,” Lefol looked over at the screen to check the fight time, “in fifty-three minutes.” Lefol asked her comms officer to end the call but continue to monitor the channel for further instructions.

  Looking over at her first officer, Lefol pensively shook her head.

  He moved over beside her. In a voice barely above a whisper, he said, “What are you thinking, Captain?”

  “This doesn’t feel right. The orders I received from Fleet Headquarters never mentioned the Fourth Fleet moving to assist Derra-5.”

  “Perhaps the orders changed after we received them? We’re still playing catch up with our deep space communications. This wouldn’t be the first time that we were the last to know about something going on.”

  Lefol nodded. “Yeah, things are, usually, quite confused when you’re in contact with the enemy.”

  “Shall I have the ship go to Yellow Alert just to be on the safe side?”

  “Yes, and tell Mister Sheridan that I want Marines placed outside of the engine room, armory, and the bridge until we arrive at Derra-5. I don’t want any surprises.” Looking back at the tactical display, Lefol began to wonder if she had waited too long to order added security placed at the vital areas of the ship. Time would tell, she thought to herself. The only problem was that there wasn’t much time left before they arrived.

  Chapter 7

  Sheridan and Cole waited in the cargo bay with the remainder of the Marines. All of their personal gear and equipment was piled neatly on the floor, ready to transfer over to the first shuttle that would dock alongside the Churchill. While most of the soldiers relaxed, Sheridan and Cole stood at the back of the packed room discussing what was about to happen next. They expected to be scattered to the four winds, going wherever they were needed. Sheridan had lost his initial concerns and had grown to trust and respect Cole’s experience and advice. He intended to ask whoever was in charge of the replacement pool to ensure that they stayed together. With a Kurgan attack coming, he didn’t want to go into battle with someone he didn’t know.

  “Well, sir, I guess this is it,” said Cole, looking over at a couple of soldiers tossing a football back and forth.

  “Yeah, I suppose it is,” replied Sheridan.

  “Whatever happens next, trust your men to do their jobs and no matter what, you have to be the one to make the decisions. Listen to the counsel of your NCOs, but when all is done, you’re the one in charge. That’s why you wear that gold bar.”

  “I never thought it would be this way. I always imagined being posted to the First Division and being a platoon leader somewhere in Earth’s solar system. Now less than a week out of the academy, I’m light years away from home and about to land on a planet that is about to be pounded into rubble.”

  “Yeah, those poor schmucks in the First Div don’t know what they’re missing,” said Cole, grinning.

  A voice boomed over the ship’s intercom. “Second Lieutenant Sheridan, please report to the armory.”

  Sheridan glanced down at his watch; they were due to arrive at Derra-5 in less than five minutes’ time. “What the hell?”

  “Come on, sir, let’s stretch our legs one last time,” Cole said, standing up.

  A minute later, they stood outside of the armory. Garcia and Agnar were on duty. On the floor, sitting with his hands on top of his head, was Tartov.

  “What’s going on here?” asked Sheridan.

  Garcia said, “Sir, PO Tartov tried to gain access to the armory. When we told him it was out of bounds, he became agitated and insisted that we let him inside. He tried pulling rank, but Sergeant Cole’s orders were quite specific, no one other than an officer was to be granted access to the room.”

  “When I said no, he struck me,” added Agnar.

  “Dumb move,” observed Cole.

  “What happened next?” asked Sheridan.

  “Sir, he left me no recourse, so I struck the PO and then forced him to sit on the floor. I would have cuffed him, but we don’t have any.”

  Sheridan could see a shiner beginning to fill in just under Tartov’s right eye. “What have you got to say for yourself, PO?”

  Tartov looked down at the floor.

  “Hey, the officer asked you a question!” snapped Cole.

  Tartov didn’t respond.

  “Pick him up,” Cole ordered Agnar.

  With as much effort as picking up a small sack of potatoes, Agnar lifted Tartov up and turned him to face Sheridan.

  “PO, answer my question. Why do you want access to a restricted room?”

  Tartov stammered, “Sir, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

  “Try me.”

  “Sir, there was a saboteur onboard the California,” explained Tartov. “I lied when I told you that I passed out in the engine room. The truth is that I was found trying to steal a pistol to protect myself with. When I wouldn’t come quietly, I was detained, sedated and placed in a survival suit. I think they were going to put me in the zero gravity brig when the Kurgans attacked.”

  “What made you believe that there was a Kurgan spy on your ship?” asked Cole.

  “Sergeant, I’m a computer technician. A couple of days before we were attacked, I was running a backup on the ship’s computer files and found a couple of odd-looking messages hidden in some of the outgoing transmissions. When I took a closer look at the transmissions, I saw that they were our flight plan and the composition of the convoy. The kicker was the fact that the information was being sent out into space towards the Disputed Zone.”

  “Did you tell the captain?” queried Sheridan.

  “I did and when the ship’s communications officer checked my findings, the messages weren’t there. It was as if they had been deliberately erased from the vessel’s databanks.”

  “PO, why didn’t you tell any of us what happened?”

&n
bsp; “How do I know you’re not a Kurgan spy?” responded Tartov.

  “Sir, we need to tell the captain,” said Cole, ignoring the PO’s last comment.

  “I agree,” replied Sheridan. “Garcia, remain at your post. Agnar, you can accompany us with the PO to the bridge.”

  The mood on the bridge was tense. The countdown clock on the tactical screen displayed thirty seconds before their scheduled arrival above Derra-5.

  “Anything new from the planet’s ops center?” Lefol asked her communications officer.

  “No, ma’am, there’s just a lot of traffic from other ships jumping into orbit.”

  Lefol looked over at her first officer. “Terry, by now we should see a ton of transponder signals on the screen. I don’t see any. What do the ship’s sensors say?”

  “Ma’am, there’s nothing on my screen. It’s as if the area around Derra-5 is devoid of anything.”

  Lefol’s gut told her to be wary. Something wasn’t right.

  The navigator began to count down. “Ten-nine-eight-”

  The comms officer turned in his seat and called out, “Ma’am, I’ve just lost Derra-5. We’re being jammed.”

  “Seven-six-five-”

  “Emergency course correction now!” yelled Lefol to the helmsman.

  The order was given a second too late. Like a red wave rippling down the side of the ship, concealed explosives detonated, crippling the Churchill. The hull buckled and tore open. In the blink of an eye, the crew in the engine room were sucked out into the cold vacuum of space, as were all of the Marines still in the cargo bay. Smaller blasts crippled the jump engine and the ship’s communications array.

  The Churchill came out of its jump. Alarms sounded throughout the ship.

  Lefol’s heart skipped a beat when she saw a Kurgan armada bearing down on Derra-5. There wasn’t a single Terran warship on the screen. The Churchill, like many other vessels, had been lured to Derra-5 and mercilessly attacked as it arrived.

  “Helmsman, report,” called out Lefol.

  “Jump drive inoperative.”

  “Sub-light drive?”

  “Still functional.”

  A plan instantly jelled in Lefol’s mind. “Full speed ahead! Fly right through the bastards. Navigator, plot a course for the capital.”

  “Ma’am, I’m showing multiple hull breaches,” reported the first officer. “If we enter the planet’s atmosphere there’s no guarantee that we won’t lose the ship.”

  “Understood,” calmly replied Lefol. “We’ll go for as far as we can and then abandon ship.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain,” replied the first officer as the vessel raced straight towards the Kurgan blockade.

  “Jesus, what was that?” asked Sheridan as the ship shuddered and then shrieked and moaned like a banshee.

  “The hull’s been breached,” said Cole gravely.

  “I told you,” cried Tartov.

  Lefol’s voice came over the intercom. “All hands, this is the captain, prepare to abandon ship, I say again, prepare to abandon ship.”

  Cole grabbed Sheridan by the arm. “Come on sir, we’ve got to make it to the nearest escape pod before it’s too late.”

  Sheridan hesitated. “What about the rest of our troops?”

  “They know the drill. If they’re not already making their way to the pods, they never will.”

  Together, Cole, Sheridan, Agnar and their prisoner ran for their lives.

  As Lefol had hoped, the sudden acceleration of the Churchill towards the Kurgans had confused the swarm of fighters hovering around the larger warships. Although her vessel lacked any offensive capability, it was equipped with a full suite of countermeasures. Using the front of the Churchill as a battering ram, Lefol ordered her helmsman to keep going regardless of what got in their way. Several Kurgan fighters were smashed to pieces when they failed to get out of the way of the charging ship.

  Their luck was measured in seconds. As soon as the Kurgans recovered, a swarm of fighters, like sharks attracted to blood, dove after the stricken vessel.

  With a loud jolt, the Churchill began to enter the atmosphere. Within seconds, the hull started to glow red from the intense heat of re-entry. Although more than capable of operating inside a planet’s atmosphere, the Churchill was severely crippled and would die soon. It was just a matter of when.

  “Distance to the capital?” asked Lefol.

  “Five thousand kilometers,” replied her helmsman.

  “Keep together baby, keep together,” said Lefol under her breath.

  “Kurgan fighters on our tail. They’re locking missiles on us,” announced the first officer.

  “Fire countermeasures,” ordered Lefol.

  From pods all over the Churchill, chaff and super-heated flares shot out from the ship, hoping to confuse the incoming missiles.

  A dozen missiles streaked through the sky towards the Churchill. Seven fell for the countermeasures, veered off and harmlessly detonated. However, five of the deadly projectiles locked onto the hull of the doomed ship and kept coming.

  “Engage ECM,” ordered Lefol.

  The first officer depressed a button on his console. Instantly, the ship’s electronic countermeasures activated. Designed to block an incoming missile’s radar, the ECM created an electronic bubble around the Churchill. As they entered the bubble, one by one the missiles were jammed.

  Lefol thought they were going to make it when she saw two missiles slip through the protective screen and continue to close with the ship.

  “Launch the escape pods,” said Lefol firmly, knowing that no one on the bridge was going to make it off the ship alive.

  “Aye, aye, ma’am,” responded the first officer. “Launching the escape pods, now!”

  Sheridan had just buckled himself into his seat when he saw the door to the pod close. His heart began to race in his chest.

  The craft was not even half-full. Garcia and one of Churchill’s crewmen had managed to join them with only seconds to spare.

  A second later, the pod shot from the side of the doomed vessel. Hurtling towards the ground, they would be vulnerable the whole way down. Built for survival, each craft could land via parachutes inside a planet’s atmosphere or could sustain life for up to a week in space.

  “All pods away,” reported the first officer.

  At least someone got away, thought Lefol.

  Closing her eyes, she awaited the inevitable.

  The first Kurgan missile struck the Churchill near the engine room, obliterating the stern. A millisecond later the bridge disappeared in a blinding flash of light as the second hit home. Like a rock, the ruined ship plummeted towards the ground.

  Rather than risk coming in range of Derra-5’s ground to air batteries, the pursuing Kurgan fighters turned away and climbed back up towards the growing armada of ships. They had taken another Terran vessel, the fourth one of the day. Their invasion was going perfectly to plan. Within hours, the ground forces would disembark their troop ships and begin the drop to the surface.

  Derra-5 and its hundreds of thousands of citizens was now on its own.

  Chapter 8

  With a loud thud, the escape pod struck the ground. The parachutes automatically let go of the craft to prevent it from being dragged across the ground in a high wind. Inside, the lights switched from red to white.

  Cole was the first to move. He undid his safety harness and moved over to a panel on the wall beside the closed door. He studied it for a second and then announced, “It’s a little cool outside, but it’s ok. We didn’t land near anything toxic.” With that, he pressed a button and opened the door.

  A cold wind whipped inside.

  “Everyone out,” ordered Cole.

  When the last man stepped out of the pod, Cole looked over at Sheridan, who was looking around, trying to get his bearings. With dark clouds covering the sky, it was impossible to determine which way he was looking.

  They had come down beside a lake in a heavily wooded area. For as far
as they could see, tall pines trees extended to the horizon.

  “Sir, check your GPS,” suggested Agnar.

  “Private Agnar, my GPS, like yours is useless,” replied Sheridan. “The first thing the Kurgans did was disable all of the satellites above the planet. Our comms gear will be equally useless. Until we make it to the capital, we’re well and truly on our own.”

  “Sir, my first name is Agnar,” pointed out the blonde-haired Marine. “My last name is Freyenlund.”

  “Like the officer said, Private Agnar, nothing is gonna work,” said Cole. “It’s old school from here on out, navigation will be via the stars and the sun. You’d better hope that we get it right and aren’t walking away from the capital instead of towards it.”

  “Where’s the rest of the crew?” asked the crewman, shivering in the cool breeze.

  “I don’t know,” replied Sheridan honestly. “In these woods, they could be ten meters away and we’d never know it.”

  “What’s your name?” Cole asked the man.

  “Crewman Hailu Shawul,” answered the man. He was slender with East African features.

  “Ok, Crewman Shawul, there’s a spare rifle in the pod, it’s yours from now on.”

  Shawul unenthusiastically nodded his head.

  “Sir, what are your orders?” Cole asked Sheridan.

  “We can’t stay here. No one in the capital will know what happened to the Churchill. However, it’ll be dark soon, so I say we establish a camp here for the night and then hope that we can get our bearings in the morning. I don’t relish the idea of being out here any longer than we have to.”

  “Why’s that, sir?” asked Garcia.

  “This planet is a lot like Earth. The indigenous species are quite similar to the ones back home with one small difference.”

  “What’s that?”

  “They’re huge. The bears here are over ten meters in length with four, not two arms. There’s a breed of giant saber-toothed cats in these parts that have been known to track people for days before killing them. Also, the spiders here grow as large as a dog back home. So I wouldn’t wander too far from the camp tonight.”

 

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