by Matt Thomas
Claps of energetic thunder punctuated the constant rumbling outside each time the EMP cannons fired.
Impacts reverberated through the ground each time a human drop ship struck the ground.
Is this supposed to happen? He recognized Thrulk’s voice, even if he didn’t recognize the concern in it.
Yes. Darga Kahil replied, more even-toned. The weapon destroys unshielded circuits around it. This is why we keep it on one ship.
We should go outside and join the fight. Someone else said in a blatant attempt to escape the dark.
You are here because we will need you here. Kahil commanded.
The weapon fired again.
Then it exploded. The energy that escaped charged the atmosphere, setting off small storms of blue lightening in the dark. Everything shook, knocking Hetarek to the ground. The Speaker found himself on his hands and knees trying not to vomit.
The hanger walls cracked and crumbled, letting in streaks of light.
They’ve destroyed the weapon! A warrior cried out. They’ll land their troops. We should prepare for battle!
In the black, metal sliding against leather echoed as a someone drew a rtek blade. Then the unmistakable sound of the blade piercing a body.
Darga Kahil made his rage known. Do not try to use blood lust to cover your cowardice! We will all stay here, in the dark, as commanded. And when the last human ship has fallen, we are the ones who will intill our victory upon them. Not just victory for today, or for this planet, or for Clan Nkel, but victory for the Hetarek Empire and Hegemony!
Those present either remained silent in fear of the Darga, or called out in enthusiastic support.
Then the roof caved in. Fire, smoke, dust, and debris clouded the inside of the hanger, blocking the light now flooding the building.
As it dissipated, the Speaker could see the outline of what had been a human drop ship, collapsed on the floor. Pieces of humans spilled out, most still wearing combat gear.
For an instant, everything was still. The human ship hissed as it cooled. Twisted metal groaned from its own weight.
Then the fire started. Something inside the wreck ignited. Within seconds, the fire began igniting the ammunition and explosives inside. A firefight may as well have erupted inside the hanger. A few warriors thought it had and, over enthusiastic, returned fire.
The Speaker watched, transfixed by the chaos, until Thrulk, yelling something about safety, dragged him towards an exit.
*****
"Four Komodos are coming up the north side of the hill." Bryan could barely hear Kendrick over the explosive sounds around the sniper and the constancy crack of his rifle.
Two more Hetarek scrambled up on all six limbs, appearing less than twenty meters away.Bryan got seven more shots off before his rifle, glowing, screamed at him that it couldn't take another round.
"Kendrick. Don't get overrun. Get out." He shouted as he pulled O's rifle out from under him. "You got me Kendrick?"
"Roger."
Bryan checked the rifle and started firing again. Another volley tore at the debris he used for cover. He pushed himself backwards, pulling O with him.
"We need to get back to that house and strongpoint." He yelled above the fray.
Something detonated. It didn't really matter what, they were getting overrun and an explosion, at that point, was an explosion.
Dirt and debris rained down. His headset muffled some of the blast, but his ears still rang.
He looked to his left. A boot stuck up from the crater. He couldn't tell if it was attached to anything. Ryan Raghnal leapt forward with surprising power, laying down heavy fire while trying to get to whoever was down. Bridget sprang forward after him, grabbing him by the straps on his body armor and pulling him down. She pointed to his left arm. The uniform had burned away exposing a limb where most of the skin had melted off. In the blast, he hadn't realized how severely he had been hit.
Jedynak lunged towards the other fallen soldier, firing as he went. Bryan was relieved when he pulled a mostly-whole soldier back towards him. The man was dazed but awake, with parts of his uniform burnt and torn.
They called for OTIS. Hetarek lasers struck the robot repeatedly as they stacked the wounded onboard. It was Harry, but he seemed to still be alive. First O, then Raghnal, then O’Hare. Bridget wrapped a protective burn bandage around Ryan's arm as they moved back under cover. In a few instants, they had lost more than half of their firepower.
Bryan saw the house that would offer at least some protection. They had about eighty yards to go.
He grabbed the radio from Perkins. "Cobra, Cobra, Cobra, Beast Two-Two." He yelled through his growing deafness and the constant retorts of weapons and snaps and hisses of bullets and laser blasts overhead.
"Cobra, Cobra, Cobra, Beast Two-Two." He yelled again. He scanned the sky and saw the heavy fighters soaring overhead.
"Cobra, Cobra, Cobra, Beast Two-Two in the blind." He shouted, letting them know he couldn't hear them. "We need a gun run thirty meters west of our position. Danger close. Time now!"
Not being able to hear, he watched the fighters. Suddenly they dove towards the ground.
He waved at his people to move. Fiercely, they forced themselves towards the house, dragging the teammates with them, firing as they could.
The deep, grinding belch of a cannon echoed off the hills and water, penetrating Bryan's fog. The ground shook through his burning, numb legs. He pumped them, checking his left and right as he moved, trying to keep track of everyone.
Jess came bounding forward, crouched as deeply as she could while still running. Rounds streaked overhead as she made it towards the house.
"Kendrick, SITREP?" He called over the radio to get accountability. He heard nothing.
The fighters took another run, and the team further closed the distance to the house.
"Kendrick, SITREP!" He shouted again as they reached the house.
Again he heard nothing as they picked through the front door, hoping the structure would buy them some time to catch their breath.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
“Cobra Three, rifle.” The third of four missiles fell off its rack and shot towards a cluster of Hetarek working its way up the ridgeline north of the Special Forces team.
Sasha pulled the yoke, sending them skyward. If Costeaux looked up from his screens, he would have seen hundreds of twinkling lights representing warships tearing each other to pieces.
“Cobra Three, Beast Two-Two. Repeat, repeat, repeat.” The controller’s voice barely made it through the sound of gunfire. At the apogee of their arc, Sasha rolled the aircraft over to make another run at the same cluster.
“Three, Four, you monitoring the battle channel?” The wingman called out over the radio as they pulled out of their own run on their own target.
“I’m a little busy for that, Four.” Jean spat through gritted teeth as he dialed in the target for a third missile strike.
“Switch to it.”
“Cobra Three, rifle.” Costeaux responded over the ODA’s channel.
“Three, switch to it.”
Sasha broke left over the ruins of the port. Jean switched channels.
“...Repeat, Vagabond collapsed the wormhole. Waves two and three will not arrive.” A disembodied voice reported.
“They left us?” Jean said in shock.
“All ship, all craft, this is Columbia Actual.” Admiral Sykora’s distinctive voice came over the open frequency. “Charlie Mike. I say again, Charlie Mike.” The admiral’s voice calmly cut through the panic. “Continue protection of landing craft and defend Columbia...”
Costeaux switched it off as the ODA called in a new target.
“What’s going on?” Sasha asked, too focused on flying to listen in.
“It sounds like Vagabond dropped the first wave off and left us.”
“Well, that sucks...”
“Beast Two-Two, be advised you have tw
o armored vehicles approaching from the south.” Costeaux warned as he saw the heat signatures appear.
“Say again Cobra?” Through the radio he heard the sound of their own engines shrieking overhead.
“Two armored vehicles to south.”
“Take ‘em, Cobra.”
“Guns, guns, guns.” Sasha raked both vehicles with fire before darting towards the city skyscrapers. “We don’t need Vagabond if we can get these guys on the ground anyway.”
Ahead of them, in the city, as he spoke, three buildings, a black glass monolith, a brown stone tower, a simple silver skyscraper all erupted simultaneously. The sides collapsed straight down like someone had yanked out a curtain rod. The deep recesses of each, now exposed, revealed tubes jutting forth and pointed towards the sky. No sooner had the dust cleared that the anti-aircraft guns, previously hidden, began to fire skyward. Lances of light pummeled the clouds.
“Three, Four, we just started taking extremely heavy triple A. They’re aiming for the drop ships.”
“I see them, Four.” Costeaux yelled. “Can you hit them?”
“Negative. They’ve just hit three landing craft in the last few...” Four cut out. Silent.
“Five, you see that?” Costeaux yelled.
“Roger, I’m on it.” They shot down at tree-top level, aiming for the brown building. Two missiles streaked out, just as a hail of fire shot towards the fighter. If any hit, their wingman broke-away for a second go-around. His first run had been effective, slowing the rate of fire from at least one of the platforms. The second run proved more challenging as he tried to set up to lob one of his free-falling bombs into the structure.
Sasha flew interference, and, for a few seconds, Costeaux was able to watch their wingman. In those seconds, heavy rounds struck the other fighter just as it released and arched up at a forty-five degree angle. The pilot lost control as the ship began to roll uncontrollably. It began to break apart. One ejection seat punched through the canopy nearly horizontal over the city. The remaining craft, and crew, slammed into another skyscraper, engulfing the upper floors in a blast that sent nearly a third of the structure tumbling into the streets below.
Sasha grunted as he pulled away from the incoming fire. “It’s just us now.”
*****
Once, the house had been beautiful, with a commanding view of the southern end of the lake, the airfield, and the sprawling suburbs. That it had lasted so long through the neglect of the decades was a testament to its design and construction. But It couldn't survive the Hetarek onslaught.
Laser rounds pounded the siding, a few finding their way through the weakened exterior.
Bryan, Jess, and Perkins tried to hold the front of the house. In the back, Bridget and Jedynak tended the wounded, loading what they could onto a sparking and sputtering OTIS.
Jess shouted loud enough to be heard. As the word "incoming" escaped her lips, she slipped, falling to the ground beneath the shattered window.
A rocket flew through the window. The roar only lasted an instant as it passed through the living room the occupied and detonated on the other side of the hallway wall. The wall blew inward, although Bryan didn't see it with his face buried in the ground, shielding it from the explosion that completely deafened him. It didn't matter. He'd nearly given up on the radio.
He looked up to see Bridget pulling herself out of the rubble. She brushed herself off and, carefully, stood up. She took a staggering step forward, then another. She looked around the room, like she saw it for the first time. Then she started coughing. Pink and red clumps started flying with each heavy convulsion. Her eyes went wide. She vomited bright red on herself. She began to shake until she couldn't stand. Lying in her side, the shaking and vomiting got worse. Jedynak ran to her, but she waved him off as well as she could. Barely able to control her hands, she pulled out a cauterizing respirator, the last ditch effort to stop blood from filling her lungs so damaged by the concussion they had turned to hemorrhagic sacks. With her lungs failing catastrophically, Bryan could only imagine the state of her brain that had slushed around inside her skull, pockets of air expanding from the force until blood filled everything that hadn't burst yet. She still thought though, pulling a bag of blood expanders, trying to stick the needle in her arm. Perkins helped her find an artery, but her constant convulsions kept tearing the line out. After several attempts to keep her restrained, she shook her head. Perkins gave a prolonged stare.
"Perkins, we need you." Bryan shouted, or thought he shouted since he couldn't hear. The communications sergeant shook his head violently, like he had just walked through a spider web. He gave Bryan a thumbs up. “MEDEVAC.” The team leader instructed. Perkins went to work on the radio.
The density of Hetarek warriors charging up the hill had lessened, though they kept coming. The lone remaining fighter roared overhead, unloaded ordinance dangerously close to the team but keeping the Hetarek back. Then it came around for another pass.
Perkins grabbed his arm. One look told Bryan all he needed to know. “He says they can’t punch through. The Hetarek got their perimeter back when the Ahai closed the wormhole. Bryan, they’re pulling out.”
He stared out the window for an instant, checking the distance between the team and the Hetarek. With a heavy sigh, he looked down at the tablet strapped to his forearm. “Tell One-Five to break contact and meet us here.” He pointed to a location to the southeast. “Tell him to round up any survivors he comes across. Is OTIS still working?”
“Yeah.” Jess said between shots, barely taking her eyes off her scope to check on the robot.
“Perkins, let Cobra know we’re breaking contact and moving east off this hill. Once we’re free, Jess, take Jedynak and everyone who can’t shoot to where Ryan stashed the truck. Head back to the mountains for now, but for fuck’s sake don’t go back to the lodge and stay off the interstate.”
“I’ll find some place.” She ducked behind cover and changed to her last magazine. “Where are you headed?”
“Well, east to link up with Kevin.” He nodded and Perkins who called up the to Petrel circling overhead. Starek and Jedynak shoved bodies onto OTIS. “Then anywhere else.”
*****
The Hetarek landed a few blows on Columbia. The vessel had lurched noticeably, which meant the rounds that struck must have been extremely heavy. Power flickered momentarily before emergency generators kicked in and conduits automatically rerouted.
The task force staff watched helplessly as the two Special Forces teams fought their way to refuge. One-Five used their handful of partisans well, keeping the Hetarek contained while the team disappeared across a small river to the west, making their way to the patchwork of dense forest and suburban ruins running along the edge of Puget Sound. Two-Two clawed their way away from their Hetarek pursuers, but remained under heavy fire just south of Drop Zone Bravo, no longer with the benefit of meaningful air cover.
Columbia had lost her own cover. The Hetarek fighters had swarmed Intrepid while their capital ships pummeled her from a distance. Squadrons of remotely operated light fighters ceased operation when the carrier began to break apart. The handful of fighters flown by humans charged back towards the command ship, some deciding to sacrifice themselves, turning to engage their pursuers so that the rest of their squadrons could have an opportunity to escape and fight another day.
One gunboat remained, the other three had become wrecks surrounding the heavily damaged Nkel’s Pride. The rupturing Hetarek flagship underscored what the humans could have achieved if the Ahai had not abandoned them and split the human forces. That surviving gunboat, on orders from Admiral Sykora, launched heavy railgun rounds into the atmosphere, targeting the hatchery in southern California. Sickles closed in on it when Xander turned away.
“Ma’am,” Popov spoke from his position by the radio. “Two-Two has the frequencies for the relays. I can’t reach One-Five, though. They’re having comms difficulties.”
“You
transmit those instructions to them?” Berne asked solemnly.
“Yes, sir. They have it analog data, and I sent it to the relays, too. They’ll get it.”
Lutierez spoke up from his terminal. “Thunder is asking for instructions. They have three Slingshots left and two pallets of supplies.”
Berne looked to Colonel Tamaka. “Howe could really use those.”
“The Hetarek will see Thunder if they try to drop anything now.” Xander said.
“And it doesn’t look like Sykora’s would wait for them, either.” Berne added.
“Tell Thunder to stay out of sight until things cool down and we’ll give them further instructions via QEC.” Tamaka ordered.
“All hands, all hands, all hands, prepare to jump.” The announcement came over the loudspeakers, echoing throughout the corridors and compartments.
The lights began to dim as the wormhole generator sucked power from every system. The screens all flickered out simultaneously, too overloaded by the physics outside to pull a signal.
Berne looked down at the tablet in front of him. “We’re coming back for you, Bryan.”
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
“I got a master-caution. I think we got hit on that last pass.”
Sasha kept them low over the dilapidated buildings heading for the mountains. “Any idea where?”
Costeaux flipped through his readouts. “Shit, we’re leaking fuselage coolant. The sun’s not going to like us if we leave atmo.”
Sasha snorted a laugh through the intercom as he banked around for another pass. “I’m not really thinking we’re leaving atmo again, Jean.”
The battle net broke through onto all channels; never a good sign. “All ships, all callsigns. Fall back to Columbia immediately for emergency jump. I say again, all ships, all callsigns, fall back to Columbia immediately for emergency jump.”
