Abyss Of Savagery

by Toby Neighbors

  “Targeting radar?” Dean asked. “Those ships are armed?”

  “The new cruisers have both atmospheric and ship-to-ship kinetic warheads,” Matsumoto said. “They don’t have guidance systems, but if they get within range they could take us out with a direct hit.”

  “We have to go!” Anders declared. “Uncouple the docking arm and prepare for FTL.”

  “Belay that order,” Dean said. “We aren’t going anywhere without our Recon platoons and supplies.”

  “Major!” Anders said, his voice cracking slightly. “With all due respect, if those ships close on us, we’ll all be killed.”

  “I know that,” Dean said. “Raptor, Tiger, Rhino, and Viper platoons, time is up. Return to the Hannibal ASAP.”

  The platoon officers all responded to Dean’s order. He could hear the questions in their voices, but they didn’t argue.

  “Commander,” Anders went on. “We need to detach and get moving. We don’t have time to wait.”

  “I thought you said this was a fast ship,” Dean countered.

  “She is fast,” Anders declared, “but it takes time to get up to speed. Those cruisers will already be at maximum speed.”

  “So out-maneuver them,” Dean said. “We aren’t leaving without our Recon platoons and the supplies they’re gathering.”

  “This is madness,” Anders said loudly.

  “Calm yourself, Vice Admiral. We aren’t in trouble yet,” Matsumoto said.

  “Lieutenant Plegg, how are we with the nukes?” Dean asked.

  “Close, sir—another few minutes and we’ll have the cables secured to the module,” Monica Plegg said from the hangar bay. “We’ll need to get the drone back in, too. I’d feel better if we had time to reel the module in close and secure it to the hull.”

  “Time is what we don’t have, Lieutenant. Secure the module and get that drone moving.”

  “Yes sir, Major.”

  “Raptor platoon is aboard, Major,” Captain Peter Grant said over the command channel. “Moving the medical supplies to the REC area now.”

  “Excellent, Captain,” Dean replied. “Ortega, how are we looking on ordinance?”

  “Plenty of ammo, Major. The HA Specialists are a little slow in zero-G, but we should be back on board shortly.”

  “Keep them moving, Captain,” Dean ordered.

  “Rhino platoon is on board, Major,” Lieutenant Jefferies reported. “We found plenty of protein and dry goods. Moving food stores to the mess hall now.”

  “Excellent,” Dean replied. “Vice Admiral, prepare for your maneuvers. We’ll set out as soon as the Tiger and Viper platoons return to the ship.”

  “Vice Admiral, the cruisers have launched kinetic warheads,” Myers said as calmly as if he were commenting on the weather.

  “What? How? Are they in range already?”

  “They are aiming at the Space Base,” Matsumoto said stoically.

  “They have accurate data on the station’s orbit,” Myers said without looking up from his vid screen. “Assessing the missile vector is a simple calculation of data: distance, speed, and movement of the station.”

  “But won’t that detonate the nuclear warheads?”

  “They have orders to kill us,” Esma said grimly.

  “Time until impact?” Dean asked.

  “Nine minutes, thirty-four seconds until impact,” Lieutenant Myers said calmly. “We have three minutes to begin maneuvers to reach a minimum safe distance.”

  “Ortega, Seebert, move your asses or we’re all dead,” Dean ordered.

  “Where are you going?” Anders asked as Dean jumped from his console.

  “To move those security officers onto the ship.”

  “We don’t have time!” Anders wailed.

  “I’ll help,” Esma said.

  When Dean glanced over his shoulder, he saw Esma and Admiral Matsumoto following. He felt a burst of hope that perhaps they could get the wounded security officers off the space base before it was destroyed. But suddenly, something violent rocked the ship. A sound like metal ripping echoed through the Hannibal, and when Dean looked out of the airlock he could see atmo venting into space.

  “What happened?” Esma asked.

  “I don’t know,” Dean replied.

  “Major, something just exploded,” Captain Rey Ortega said.

  “I think one of the damn security officers sabotaged the airlock,” Lieutenant Seebert said. “I’ve got two specialists down.”

  “Stay here,” Dean ordered Esma.

  “I want to help,” she said. The look on her face was both shock and pain when she thought Dean was leaving her behind.

  “I need you to pull people back in,” Dean shouted. “Get your helmets closed!”

  There weren’t enough emergency evac suits on the Hannibal for all the operators who had come aboard with Dean to help fulfill the mission against the Kroll. The REC facility was little more than a room with gaming stations on the small escort ship, but it was capable of being sealed off in an emergency. Esma and Admiral Matsumoto were wearing evac suits, but like most of the other officers on board, they had the bulbous helmet retracted. At Dean’s order they each pulled it up and over their heads, sealing the suit by sliding the latch closed.

  “If the docking arm tears, we’ll jump across,” Dean said. “But you’ll have to get the airlock cleared as quickly as possible.”

  “You can count on it,” Matsumoto said.

  “Be careful, Dean,” Esma warned.

  “Always,” he replied, just before he darted into the docking tube and launched himself headfirst into the lack of gravity.

  Dean saw the members of Lieutenant Edwina Seebert’s Tiger platoon as he flew toward them. To their credit, the Recon members rallied quickly and caught Dean before he slammed into the far side of the space base module. As Dean turned, he saw the ruined airlock and what appeared to be the greasy remains of one of the security officers. Three more lay in what appeared to be shell shock. Dean felt a sense of fury at what the security officers had tried to do. They may not have wanted to live, but then they probably didn’t know that the station had been fired upon by the approaching EsDef cruisers.

  “Get those munitions across the docking arm!” Dean ordered. “It won’t last much longer.”

  The Tigers moved quickly, some hustling the large ammunition crates into the docking tube, others helping the two wounded specialists across.

  “Major, the base is losing pressure,” Myers said over the command channel. “There will be no atmo in less than a minute.”

  “Thanks, Lieutenant,” Dean replied, yanking the nearest security officer onto his feet.

  The man’s hands were bound with plastic tie-downs, but Dean didn’t care. He hurled the man toward the airlock and then turned to the next one.

  “We didn’t have a choice,” the man squeaked, his voice cracking with terror. “Haney was crazy. He wanted to die.”

  “Good for him,” Dean said, flinging the terrified security officer toward the airlock. “Get these idiots through before we lose atmo and their lungs explode.”

  The Heavy Armor Specialists of the Tiger platoon had to move down the tunnel single-file, but they sandwiched in the security patrolmen between them. Dean moved to the airlock and could see holes slowly opening up in the thin metal skin of the module. Air was starting to rush out of the airlock with enough force to pull Dean forward.

  “Ortega!” Dean shouted as the last platoon came into sight. They were carrying what looked like ancient Egyptian sarcophaguses. Dean recognized the big cases as spare armor. He hurriedly waved the platoon forward. “Move like your life depends on it!”

  Half the platoon made it into the docking arm before it finally tore loose from the space station. Dean stood at the airlock, gaping at the carnage and wondering if the security officers made it through before the tunnel lost all atmo.

  “What do we do now?” asked a demolition private who was standing next to Dean.

  “We
’ll jump across once they cut the docking arm loose,” Dean said. “Ortega, get the rest of your platoon ready for EVA.”

  “Roger that,” Rey Ortega responded.

  “Myers, how’s the clock?”

  “Ninety-six seconds before we cross the threshold to reach a minimum safe distance,” the unflappable lieutenant replied.

  “Major Blaze, what’s your status?” Aviv asked.

  “Looks like there are seven of us still on the station. We’ll go EVA as soon as Captain Dante and Admiral Matsumoto clear the airlock.”

  “Almost ready, Dean,” Esma said.

  “There is nothing holding the ship to the station,” Matsumoto said. “I recommend you begin your maneuvers, Vice Admiral.”

  “He’s right,” Dean agreed. “Get the ship moving. We’ll jump across to the hull and climb over to the docking bay if we have to.”

  “You want me to leave now?” Anders asked, his voice pitched high with worry.

  “That’s correct, Vice Admiral. Begin moving the ship.”

  Dean wished he could open a private channel to Esma, but her evac suit wasn’t equipped with sophisticated communications gear. He waved to Captain Ortega, who hit the button on the ruined airlock door. The safety mechanism had kicked in as soon as the docking arm tore away, but there wasn’t much left of the airlock door, which had taken major damage during the blast. Ortega stepped to the threshold with an arm on each side of the blackened metal frame and hurled herself forward.

  “Holy shit!” the frightened demolition private said.

  “Just a walk in the park, rookie,” said an FAS sergeant who quickly followed his captain out of the station.

  Dean looked at the private’s nameplate. It said Jenkins, W. B. Dean put a hand on the man’s shoulder and nodded.

  “Don’t worry about it, Jenkins,” Dean said. “Just jump and grab onto something when you reach the other side.”

  Dean slapped the private on the back as the young Demolition Specialist stepped to the door.

  “Beginning evasive maneuvers,” Lieutenant Myers said.

  Dean watched as the last member of Ortega’s Viper platoon jumped across the thirty-feet gap toward the escort ship. Then he stepped to the opening, took a deep breath, and followed the others into the void.

  Chapter 13

  Dean was doing more than drifting. He was moving quickly across the space between the station and the Hannibal, who had already begun to pull away. Dean watched the ship begin to move. He wasn’t worried about missing the spacecraft, but his heart began to race as he watched the airlock move further and further from his position.

  The problem with jumping through open space in zero gravity is the fact that even when you know you need to correct your trajectory, there is no way to do it. Dean saw the docking arm spin away from the ship. It wasn’t close enough to threaten him, but it managed to clip Private Jenkins, who was knocked into a tumble. Dean could hear the young specialist screaming as he crashed into the side of the Hannibal. A second later, Dean hit the ship and managed to grab onto the hull. At almost the same instant that relief flooded through him, Private Jenkins slammed into Dean and dislodged him from his perch on the outside of the ship.

  Dean struggled to grab onto the hull again. Panic was threatening to overtake him, but he bit his tongue to keep from screaming and fought to arrest his own tumble down the side of the ship. Suddenly, Dean entered the Hannibal’s gravity well and his body dropped toward the bottom of the ship. His right arm managed to hook around a pipe, and he slammed hard into the side of the vessel. The sudden jerk on his wounded shoulder sent pain rippling through his body like lightning streaking across a stormy night sky.

  Private Jenkins tumbled past Dean, who instinctively grabbed for the terrified private. He managed to catch Jenkins’ wrist, but the weight of the young man tweaked Dean’s broken forearm. Dean’s scream of pain couldn’t be contained, just as he lost his hold on Jenkins. The private was swung back toward the rear of the ship, no longer affected by the Hannibal’s gravity well. Dean watched as Jenkins tumbled away, and without really thinking things through, he gathered his feet beneath him. His mind calculated a trajectory before Dean jumped. He could hear the panicked voices on the ship via his armor’s comlink, along with Jenkins’ terrified wailing.

  He shot out of the gravity well like a superhero taking flight. Almost instantly, he was free of the ship’s pull and the world seemed to slow. He was moving quickly, gaining on the tumbling private, and—to Dean’s relief—sailing straight toward the space base module the ship was towing behind it. Dean hit Jenkins like a wrestler diving for a double-legged takedown. He wrapped his arms around the private’s hips and continued forward, his progress slowing significantly and his body starting to spin.

  “I’ve got you!” Dean said loudly.

  “Dean? Dean? What are you doing? What’s happening?” Esma’s voice sounded as frightened as Jenkins’.

  “The Major’s got him,” said one of Ortega’s platoon members.

  Dean wasn’t sure who it was and didn’t have time to figure the mystery out. He had spun around and could see the module again. He was desperately trying to calculate the distance to their last chance to catch hold of something before they went flying out into space. Dean knew the module was filled with outlawed nuclear weapons, but all he was thinking about were the many pipes and bundles of insulated wiring that covered the exterior of the space base module. They spun around again and then a second time before finally hitting the compartment full of antique nuclear weapons. Dean nearly lost his hold on Jenkins, but managed to pin the private to the hull of the module and simultaneously take hold of a small protrusion that halted their tumble.

  It took Dean a few seconds to clear the terror from his mind, and then he radioed in to the ship. “This is Wolfpack actual,” Dean said, his training kicking in so that he used the formal communications protocol for an officer away from his assigned vessel. “I have Private Jenkins and we are safe on the nuke module, over.”

  “Good to hear it, Major,” Matsumoto said. “Can you find your way back to the airlock, over?”

  “Negative, that’s not going to work. We’ll stay with the module until it gets reeled in, over.”

  “We’ll be welding the module onto the top of the Hannibal,” Lieutenant Plegg said. “Hold tight, Major, and we’ll help you in through the hangar bay, over.”

  “Roger that, Lieutenant, and thank you.”

  It took several minutes for Dean to catch his breath and slow his heart, which felt as though he’d just run a marathon. It helped Dean to encourage Private Jenkins. He opened a private channel with the young Demolition Specialist.

  “Take it easy, Jenkins. We’re okay.”

  The young man was weeping, and Dean could feel him trembling with fear.

  “We had a bad jump, but we’re alive,” Dean said softly. “Deep breaths, Private. Pull yourself together.”

  “We almost died,” Jenkins said.

  “No,” Dean lied, “the ship would have come around and picked us up. Why the hell do you think I jumped after you?”

  “Really?”

  “Absolutely. Now hold on to the module, I’m going to let go of you.”

  Dean saw the John Henry drone pushing the module up while the cables slowly reeled the container full of nuclear weapons into the ship. The Hannibal was accelerating, Dean knew that, but he couldn’t feel anything. He was weightless, with no sense of motion as they moved through space. The drone would push the module up and somehow fasten it to the top of the ship just above the hangar bay. Once they were there, Dean and Jenkins would be able to climb down to safety.

  Turning, Dean could see the space base receding in the distance. Mars was also growing smaller, even though it still dominated space. Dean had gone spacewalking before, but never had he just marveled at the vastness and beauty all around him. He had a death grip on the module, knowing that if he lost his hold on the bundle of cables he would die in space. The Hann
ibal couldn’t go back for him without being caught by the EsDef cruisers, and Dean doubted that the EsDef ships would bother picking him up. They wanted Dean dead and the entire Off World Force Recon branch of service abolished. Perhaps they had already succeeded, Dean didn’t know. His entire focus was on completing the mission Colonel Davis had entrusted him with. When it was done he would worry about EsDef, but not before.

  “Sixty seconds to kinetic strike on Space Base 03,” Myers said over the command channel.

  Dean pointed at the space base, which looked like a metallic insect from his perch on the module. The large solar cells that powered the base looked like wings, and the long modular station itself looked like the segmented body of a strange bug.

  “What?” Jenkins asked.

  “Just watch,” Dean replied.

  Lieutenant Myers was counting down to impact, and Dean felt a strange sense of relief to be moving away from the space station. The impact was sudden, and while expected, it still surprised him. The base blossomed like a fiery flower, expanding in a bright flash of heat in the cold void of space. There was no sound—just sudden, undeniable destruction on a scale that made Dean feel small and frightened.

  “Holy God in Heaven,” Jenkins said.

  The fireball expanded exponentially, growing and growing, then suddenly collapsing in on itself. Light reflected off the field of dust that was floating where the space station had been, but otherwise there was nothing left to show that the base had ever existed.

  “Let’s get back aboard the ship,” Dean said. “We’ve got a mission to complete.”

  When the module was in place on the top rear section of the escort ship, the drone welded it to the hull as Dean and Private Jenkins climbed down onto the ship. They moved into the artificial gravity field and began to feel better immediately. The ship was gaining speed with every second, but to Dean it seemed as if she were stationary. A recessed ladder was built into the hull of the ship just to the right of the big hangar door. Dean led the way down and easily swung himself through the magnetic field that kept the hard vacuum of space from sucking the atmo from the ship.