Abyss Of Savagery

by Toby Neighbors

  “It’s open-ended since we had no idea what you would encounter in the Urgglatta system. I’m sending it to you now. It has the nuclear codes you’ll need to arm the warheads, Dean. Be careful.”

  “I will. We’re going to hit the Kroll before they know we captured their ships. Is there anything else I need to know?”

  “I don’t think so,” Gheridelli said. “I will offer prayers for you and your team. Good luck, my friend. I look forward to seeing you again.”

  “Same here, sir. Thank you for all your help.”

  “Good luck and Godspeed, Dean.”

  The vid screen changed from the face of the strategy and tactics specialist to the logo of EsDef and several icons. The medic had cut through Dean’s fatigues and sterilized the wound. He squeezed a tube of flesh sealant into the wound and pinched it closed.

  “Shit! That hurts,” Dean complained.

  “I need to hold it closed for a few minutes, sir, to ensure the wound seals.”

  “That’s fine,” Dean said.

  The door to the small cabin opened and Chavez stepped in.

  “Sir, Lieutenant Jefferies is fine. A little banged up, but his armor wasn’t compromised.”

  “Excellent. Check the Ready Room. I should have some armor in there. Get the other specialists to help pack up all the available munitions. We’ll take them with us when we disembark.”

  “Yes, sir,” Chavez said, hurrying away.

  “Captain Dean,” Anders said, popping his head into Dean’s doorway. “Oh, look at that, you’ve been promoted.”

  Dean pulled off the oak leaf pins that Colonel Davis had given him. Dean had very few personal possessions, but he hoped to be able to keep the rank insignia as a reminder of the colonel’s faith in him.

  “Admiral Matsumoto suggested I let you know we’ll arrive at Space Base 13 in just over ten minutes,” Anders went on. “I’m not sure how we can take on any more cargo, though.”

  “We’re not taking it on,” Dean said. “We’ll tow it. Get Lieutenant Plegg and Sergeant Fennes to the hangar. We’ll have to rig something up.”

  “Oh, okay. I’ll do that right away.”

  Anders was obviously nervous. He had three admirals on his bridge and his Recon platoon leader had been given command of the mission. Dean was just glad the vice admiral wasn’t intent on exerting his own authority. Officially, they were equals in rank since Dean’s field promotion, but they were on Anders’ ship, which in most cases gave the naval officer the final say. Dean got to his feet, tied the loose ends of his utility fatigues around his waist, and stepped out into the concourse.

  Esma had moved the operators into the REC facility. He wasn’t sure what they were up to, but he knew Esma well enough to trust that she was getting her group ready for the task ahead. Meanwhile, Dean needed to share his thoughts on the pickup at Space Base 03 with VA Anders, the Recon platoon leaders, and the admirals.

  There wasn’t a lot of space between the bridge and the REC facility, so Dean and the other leaders gathered in the mess hall. Dean had just enough time to slip into his battle armor, sans helmet. He immediately felt more prepared than he did in the baggy utility fatigues.

  “Alright, we only have a few minutes before we reach Space Base 03,” Dean explained. “And we won’t have long to get things done once we’re there. I need a list of everything we might need.”

  “Munitions,” Captain Ortega suggested. “The stores on board the Hannibal are inadequate for even a single platoon.”

  “We didn’t have a chance to resupply after dropping Captain Blaze—I mean, Major, sorry—” Vice Admiral Anders explained, “after dropping Major Blaze and his platoon in the New Wales system.”

  “Medical supplies, if we can get them,” Admiral Masterson said. “Better to have them and not need them, then to need them and not have them.”

  “We’ll need food stores too,” Aviv said. “There isn’t much left on our old ships that didn’t get destroyed by the Kroll.”

  “Alright, Jefferies, your platoon will focus on food stores. Get everything that can quickly be transported from the space base. Corporal Franklin can sort it out later.”

  “Thank you for that vote of confidence, honey,” the ship’s steward called from the kitchen area.

  “You’re welcome!” Dean called back. “Captain Grant, your platoon will focus on medical supplies. Ortega, Seebert, you’re on munitions duty. Captain Vanessa Parker is on the station and will oversee the transfer of nukes, which I’ll coordinate from the hangar with Lieutenant Plegg and Sergeant Fennes. Any questions?”

  No one spoke, so Dean nodded.

  “Let’s get this done in record time, people. The folks taking over EsDef won’t just ignore us or forget about our mission. We need to get this done quickly and efficiently so we can get back to the Kroll ships and leave the system.”

  Dean put a hand on Admiral Matsumoto’s shoulder as the others hurried from the mess hall. The serious Japanese commander looked at Dean with surprise.

  “You need something, Major?”

  “I want you to help VA Anders.”

  “It is his ship. I would not dishonor him by presuming to command.”

  “No, I wouldn’t either, but I have a feeling that we may end up with company on the space base. The rebels have had time to prepare. Odds are there will be saboteurs on the space base, perhaps even Recon soldiers with orders to stop us. And I fully expect the garrison in orbit around Mars to cause trouble if possible. Anders is capable, but inexperienced. A watchful eye over the bridge would make me more comfortable.”

  “I see,” Matsumoto said. “I will do what I can.”

  “Thank you, Admiral. It’s a pleasure serving with you.”

  “And you, Major.”

  Matsumoto gave a short bow, then returned to the bridge. Dean went quickly to the hangar. He didn’t know how they would tow the nukes or if towing them would slow down the gravity-propelled ship. But he knew they had to find a way to move enough warheads to the Kroll ships before the new leadership of EsDef could stop them. The entire concept made Dean nervous. The nuclear bombs on Space Base 03 were over a hundred years old. It would only take one mistake to annihilate the entire crew and passengers on the Hannibal and ruin their mission. It was the single most important operation of Dean’s life, and he was determined not to fail.

  Chapter 11

  “How’s it look?” Dean asked as he walked into the hangar.

  Lieutenant Monica Plegg had her data pad out and was crunching numbers, but she nodded affirmatively. Sergeant Fennes was working on a drone the size of a fire hydrant.

  “It looks possible,” Plegg said. “It seems like you’re in the thick of something all the time, Major. Congrats on the promotion, by the way.”

  “Thank you,” Dean replied.

  “We’ve got plenty of cable, and according to my calculations we shouldn’t have any problems towing what I’m guessing is an average-sized module. Those things are pretty old, so my biggest worry is getting it unhooked from the station.”

  “I’m hoping Captain Parker already has something in mind for that,” Dean said, “but I want to know what you have planned if she doesn’t.”

  “This is a modified John Henry repair drone. It should be able to unhook the module as long as it isn’t attached on both sides,” Sergeant Fennes said.

  “Both sides?” Dean asked.

  “You know, on either end,” Plegg replied without looking up from her data pad.

  “Normally connections are encased in protective sleeves,” Fennes continued. “My guess is the sleeve will have to be cut away. The John Henry has enough acetylene to cut off one sleeve. If it’s connected on both sides, we’ll have to bring the drone back on board and swap out the tanks.”

  “Don’t we have more than one drone?” Dean asked.

  “Only one John Henry; it’s the workhorse of the stable. We only have a small complement of drones on the Hannibal, sir. I’m sorry.”

  “We�
��ll make it work,” Dean said.

  “Sergeant Fennes will pilot the repair drone to the space base,” Lieutenant Plegg explained, “carrying out two high-tensile steel cables. Lieutenant Chappelander will use standard maintenance drones to attach the other ends of the cable to external cleats. It will get us on the move, although we will have to reel them in and attach the module to the ship’s hull before we begin slowing down.”

  “It sounds like you are on top of things here,” Dean said. “It’s good to know you’re ready.”

  “Plan for the worst, hope for the best,” Fennes said, stepping back and powering on the John Henry drone.

  The O&A sergeant had a portable drone control board attached to the front of her emergency evac suit. It folded down at her waist, with straps that went from each top corner up to her neck so that the board was a flat, stable operator console with miniature controls. She flipped a few toggle switches and then moved the joystick. The drone rose up over the deck and rotated a full three hundred and sixty degrees.

  “We’re online, Major,” Fennes said.

  Dean nodded and slipped his TCU over his head. His uniform didn’t have a place for insignia; instead, it projected an image on his battle helmet. The promotion had not gone through the proper channels and wasn’t officially logged in the EsDef network, so Dean’s TCU still showed him as a captain. Still, he had full access to the Hannibal’s systems, and that was all he needed for this portion of the operation.

  “Docking arm is extended,” First Mate Harry Hines said over the command channel.

  “Bring us in easy, Lieutenant,” Dean cautioned. “We can’t afford to wait for maintenance to repair the airlock.”

  “Of course, sir,” Lieutenant Myers said in his steady, even tone. “Contact in seven, six, five…”

  Dean didn’t listen to the countdown. He went quickly to the Ready Room and grabbed a utility rifle. By the time he got to the airlock, all four Recon platoons were ready to deploy.

  “On your mark, Major,” Ortega said.

  Dean caught a dark look from Captain Peter Grant. He wasn’t sure what that was all about, but he didn’t have time to find out at the moment. Instead, he activated the open comlink channel and tried to contact Captain Vanessa Parker.

  “E.S.D.F. Hannibal to Captain Vanessa Parker, do you read, over?” There was no reply, which Dean found ominous. “This is the E.S.D.F. Hannibal calling Captain Vanessa Parker on the E.S.D.F. Space Station 03. Do you read me, over?”

  “No response, Major,” Lieutenant Gretskey said from her station on the bridge. “The space base isn’t broadcasting anything.”

  “It isn’t always manned, is it?” VA Anders asked.

  “It’s a trap,” Chavez replied.

  “One we’re going to have to spring,” Dean said grimly. “Captain, Ortega, open the airlock and send in an AAV, please.”

  “Roger that,” Ortega said.

  A moment later, the small drone went sailing from the artificial gravity of the Hannibal into zero-G on the antiquated space base. The Fast Attack Specialist piloting the drone lost control for a moment, and Dean was almost forced to close his eyes rather than watch the vid feed that was swaying around like a balloon in a hurricane. Once the AAV was under control, Dean opened his eyes in time to see an armed security patrolman slipping from the main corridor back behind a bulkhead.

  “Bogeys,” Dean warned. “Remember, this is an old space station and we need it intact to get our supplies. Be careful where you’re shooting.”

  “We’ve got this,” Jefferies said, moving his HA Specialists through the airlock.

  The first three were in the long main module of the space base when the vid feed from the AAV suddenly went offline. Dean had been expecting to lose the drone. They couldn’t use the AAV’s small-yield warheads without destroying the station, and once it was close enough for the security force waiting for them inside the base to take it out, the drone became a liability.

  Lieutenant Ted Jefferies followed his HA Specialists, who had formed a concave line around the airlock. There was just enough room between the airlock and the Heavy Armor troopers for a few more specialists. There was no gravity in the old space station, which Colonel Davis had converted into a storage facility in orbit around Mars. Jefferies’ Rhino platoon had to activate the electromagnets in the soles of their boots to hold them in place on the space base decking. The Heavy Armor Specialists were facing the airlock; their large, hydrogen-titanium alloy shields faced out into the station, providing a line of security in case the security patrol officers attacked.

  “This is Lieutenant Theodore Jefferies of the Extra Solar Defense Force,” Jefferies said, his battle armor projecting his voice through its external speaker system. “Lay down your weapons or you will be met with deadly force.”

  There was a moment of strange silence, and then—as if on cue—eight security patrolmen leaped out from their hiding spots and opened fire. They were armed with small-gage crowd-control shotguns, which were meant to injure, not kill, and to not cause too much damage on space stations. The tiny pellets ricocheted off the HA shields and flew in all directions around the module.

  “Wound, don’t kill,” Dean ordered.

  “You heard the man,” Jefferies responded. “Take them down.”

  Dean wished he had non-lethal ammunition. He knew the security officers were following orders and had no beef with his specialists, but they were there to keep him from getting the supplies and munitions he needed, which left Dean with no choice but to fight back. The battle, if it could be called that, only lasted a few seconds. The HA Specialists targeted the security officers with their utility cannons. The flechettes fired by the HA ripped through flesh and shattered bones before burying themselves in the bulkheads and decking of the space station. As Jefferies moved into the module, Dean checked to make sure the station hadn’t been compromised.

  “Alright people, time is of the essence, but don’t get careless,” Dean ordered. “Chances are the security team left a few surprises for you.”

  The Viper and Tiger platoons both had medics, who went to work helping the wounded security patrolmen. Most had wounds that were treatable, but two of the eight-man team bled to death from arterial wounds that couldn’t be controlled.

  It didn’t take long to find Captain Parker, either. She had been ambushed by the security officers, restrained, and locked in a storage compartment. Dean had never seen Parker lose her cool, but she was furious when Ortega’s platoon freed her. It took several minutes to calm her down and keep her from attacking the wounded security team.

  “Captain,” Dean said from a close but safe distance, “we need to get the nuclear ordinance and return to the Kroll ships.”

  “What the hell is going on?” Parker snarled. “Who sent a security team to attack me?”

  “EsDef brass has been replaced,” Dean said. “The pacifists have taken control.”

  “How is that possible?”

  “Colonel Davis was assassinated,” Dean admitted. “The fleet admiral was detained on trumped-up charges, and Major General Fulton was forced to resign. We’re here, against orders, to carry out Colonel Davis’s mission.”

  The anger that had threatened to consume Captain Vanessa Parker suddenly drained away, and Dean saw tears glistening in her eyes.

  “I’m sorry, I know that you were close to the colonel. But we aren’t out of the woods yet. We have to get the nukes ready to transport.”

  “They’re ready,” Parker said. “They’ve been checked and prepped for transport.”

  “What module?”

  “Q12, on the far end of the station.”

  “Perfect. And the coupling?”

  “I have charges in place,” Parker said. “As soon as I find my TCU, I can break that module free.”

  “Alright, let’s find your armor,” Dean said, before switching over to the command channel on his comlink. “Sergeant Fennes, this is Major Blaze. Do you copy, over?”

  “I r
ead you, Major. The John Henry is deployed and waiting for instructions, over.”

  “The ordinance is on the far end of the station in module Q12. I repeat, module Q12. Captain Parker has explosives in place to break the module free once you’ve attached the cables, over.”

  “Roger that. The John Henry is on the move. Stand by, Major.”

  “Major Blaze?” Parker said, raising an eyebrow.

  “Battlefield promotion,” Dean said. “Colonel Davis’s last act before he was killed. I’ve got four Recon platoons and three Kroll ships. If we somehow survive the mission, we’ll be court-martialed. Want to tag along?”

  “I wouldn’t miss it,” Parker said.

  Chapter 12

  Dean returned to the Hannibal as soon as Captain Parker retrieved her TCU. With her battle helmet in place, she was able to detonate the minor charges at the module coupling. Dean oversaw the entire process from his console on the bridge, with Esma by his side and Admiral Matsumoto nearby. It took the other platoons longer to retrieve the supplies than Dean had hoped, and they were still spread throughout the modular space base when Lieutenant Sheldon Myers called everyone’s attention to the plot he was overseeing on his console.

  “We have incoming ships,” Myers said, without a hint of how the approaching vessels made him feel.

  “Show us!” Anders ordered.

  In the center of the group of consoles, a hologram of the Hannibal, Space Base 03, Mars, and the surrounding space appeared. Mars was a huge, red orb, and there were several commercial ships in orbit around the planet. From beyond the space within the planet’s gravitational field, a trio of starships was slowly approaching.

  “Cruisers,” Matsumoto said.

  Dean grimaced a little. The ships looked like giant submarines floating through space. They were all new vessels with gravity drives, which meant they were just as fast as the Hannibal.

  “Estimated time till contact?” Anders asked.

  “Twenty-four minutes, forty-six seconds until contact. Four minutes, eighteen seconds until the Hannibal is in range of their targeting radar.”