by Clark Graham
Smitty smiled and poured more into the glass. “Sure, here you go.”
Anders chugged it, then gasped, turned red. He tried to talk, but nothing came out. When he could talk again, he said, “Wow, that’s amazing stuff.”
The alarm bells rang out followed by, “Red alert, this is no drill.”
Everyone scrambled.
Smitty and Eisler ran up to the dock. “You’re my wingman today.”
“Me, Sir? I’m no good in those things.”
“You’re what I have today.”
Some of the other pilots arrived and were donning flight suits, but Eisler wasn’t in the mood to wait. Smitty and he took off. There were less of the enemy than before. When they roc’fis appeared, they flew back into the nebula.
“They want us to follow.” Smitty’s voice came over his headset. “Should we, Sir?”
“No, they are trying to distract us. Control, this is Fox Leader. Is there anything coming from that probe?”
“Stand by, Fox Leader.” Eisler didn’t wait. He and Smitty flew towards the back side of the nebula. “Yes, there is a faint energy signal coming in.”
They were already in position and had spotted the enemy ship. It was smaller than a frigate, with four tiny engines, instead of the normal two large ones. The low caliber gun on top that had to be raised to fire. The Drottnings raced towards it. Both fired two missiles at it. The resulting explosion buffeted both ships. An orange and yellow flash enveloped the enemy, leaving nothing remaining.
“This is Fox Leader. All ships return to base.”
If Eilser thought he was going to be congratulated, he was soon disappointed. Jopsen called a meeting and lined all of his commanders up. “I’m hearing reports of pilots not able to fly and Marine lieutenants staggering down the corridor. I need that rotgut locked up until after this crisis is over. Dismissed.”
On the way out, Eisler whispered, “You staggered down the corridor?”
Anders smiled. “That’s good stuff.”
An hour later, Jopsen was at Eisler’s door. “Is the stuff locked away?”
“Yes, Sir. Smitty padlocked it in his footlocker.”
“I want that key.”
“I’ll tell him to bring it to you.”
Jopsen folded his arms. “I talked to the admiral about what we accomplished today. He thinks we sped up the enemy’s timeline to attack the base. They now know we’ve cut off their supply line. They will be more anxious to get out of here.”
“Really? I mean, Yes, Sir.”
“From now on, two pilots are awake, sober, and ready at all times.”
Chapter 48
Smitty yawned and stretched his legs as best he could in the cramped cockpit. He and another pilot were at the ready, already strapped in their roc’fis. It was a two-hour shift and they were almost done. Pillins and Eisler showed up early. Smitty nearly jumped out of the plane so he could go get some sleep.
“Thank you, Sir.”
Red lights flashed on and off. “Red Alert, this is no drill.”
“Get back in.” Eisler ordered. “We have company.”
Four Drottnings flew out of the space station and screamed toward the enemy.
“This is Fox Leader. Look for invasion craft.” Eisler didn’t go through the middle of the enemy this time, but picked off strays near the outside of the pack.
“No invasion craft spotted.”
“Fox five and six, ready to launch.”
“Control, do not launch the other two roc’fis, repeat, do not launch the other two roc’fis. This is a diversionary attack.”
“Roger, Fox one.”
“All roc’fis, return to base.”
As they were pulling Eisler out of the cockpit, Donaldson walked up. “Sir, I now have seven serviceable Drottnings. So, I only have one back up. I do have one with serious engine problems that could be used in a pinch.”
“Thank you.”
“Stand down from red alert,” came over the speakers.
“They are playing with us,” Eisler complained.
“Red alert.” The sirens came back on.
Eisler jumped back in his roc’fi. Donaldson came up to him, “Sir, I can’t let you launch. You don’t have enough fuel to complete the mission. I need to service your ship.”
Grumbling, Eisler climbed back out. “Launch Fox five and six then.”
The two roc’fis were soon on their way.
Eisler paced back and forth while they fueled and serviced his ship.
“Watch out Fox five!” An explosion sounded over the speakers.
“Fox six, report. What happened?” Eisler yelled.
“Sir, the enemy fighter rammed him. His ship is blown in half. They’re trying to ram me, too.”
“Get out of there,” Eisler ordered. “Send to shuttle to rescue Fox five.”
“No need, Sir. The cockpit is gone,” Fox six replied.
Eisler hung his head, then turned to Donaldson. “Is my ship ready yet? I have to get out there.”
“It still needs more fuel.”
“Stand down from red alert,” came the announcement.
“Recover the body at least. Send the shuttle.”
Smitty and another pilot jumped into the shuttle and were soon on their way.
“Red alert, this is no drill.”
“Smitty, get back here.” Eisler shouted through the communicator, “Is my ship ready?”
“We’re fueling it. Give me five minutes.” Donaldson’s men scrambled to prep the Drottnings.
Thuds echoed against the space station’s skin. “It’s too late.” Eisler looked up. “They are shooting up the skin so their penetrating landing ships can punch a hole through it. Everyone, grab your blasters and follow me.”
They rushed up to deck ten to where the enemy was concentrating their fire. Every man positioned themselves for the best line of sight. The crash knocked them all off their feet. Looking up they saw the tip of an enemy landing craft had penetrated the hull. It sprang open like a tulip blooming and twenty Trilians rushed out.
Scrambling to their feet, Eisler’s men opened fire. Most of the enemy were cut down in the opening salvo. Some returned fire, but they too were soon dead.
Donaldson stood up. “That wasn’t so bad.”
“Get down, we’ve not seen the last of them,” Eisler snapped.
A loud clank sounded, then the back of the Trilian landing craft opened up and fifty more of the enemy rushed in. Again, blasters rang out, enemy dropped. This time, more returned fire. Two of Donaldson’s men went down.
The enemy wasn’t making it past the landing craft opening. They were firing back at a tremendous rate. Two grenades exploded in the entrance of the enemy ship. The enemies rate of fire slackened. Soon the rest of them were gunned down.
Eisler turned to see who threw the grenades.
Anders smiled ear to ear. “Got ‘em. Gotta go, more holes to plug.”
“But, we’re not done here,” Eisler protested, but Anders had already left.
Yet another ship latched on to the landing craft. Fifty more Trilians rushed in.
The firefight was intense. A lot of the enemy were cut down in the doorway, but Eisler’s men were dropping too. Now outnumber, “Retreat,” he ordered.
Chapter 49
Merken’s men ran into storage bay #3. The crates full of Drottning fighters were stacked floor to ceiling. “Quick, hide in the back.” Eisler ordered.
The door opened a minute later and two grenades were thrown into the room. The blinding flash left the men closest to the explosion down. Donaldson screamed in pain.
Eisler ran to him, while the rest of the men covered the door for an expected attack. He dragged the sergeant to safety.
“My foot,” Eisler screamed.
“You have to pipe down. We don’t want them knowing we’re in here.” He tried to examine the foot. The boot was torn to bits and soaked in blood. He took out a knife and cut it off. Taking off his shirt, he wrapped it a
round the wound and tied it tight. “That will have to do.” Motioning to some of the men. “Put him near the top of the crates, and the rest of us will get up there also. The grenades spread out, not up, and we can fire down on the enemy. They won’t be expecting that.”
The men did as he said. They dragged Donaldson up three crates and positioned themselves around him.
Eisler opened his communicator. “This is Eisler. There are fifteen of us holed up in the storage on deck eleven. What is the status?”
“Good to hear your voice, Eisler,” Jopsen replied. “The situation is grim. Enemy landing craft punched their way into decks nine, ten, eleven, and twelve. They’ve taken decks thirteen and fourteen. So far, the control center on deck eighteen is safe, but the enemy is massing for another attack on deck fifteen. If you cause problems for them down there, it would take some of the pressure off of us.”
Eisler swallowed, “Yes, Sir.” Jopsen was starting to think like a military man. “All right, I need six volunteers to take the fight to the enemy.” Eisler smiled. Eight had volunteered. Pillins watched him, wide-eyed even though he raised his hand. “Sorry, Pillins, I need you to stay here. I need an officer to hold this position in case we have to beat a hasty retreat. The rest of you, come with me.”
Rellief washed over Pillins face.
The door to the storage bay was jammed open, due to the force of the grenade. They only had enough room to exit one at a time. Eisler slipped through first, after checking the corridor. It was empty. The men made their way down it and back to the enemy’s entry point. It was abandoned. Several of the mechanics he had brought up from the hanger deck lay at his feet. Those enemy, who had been shot dead in the mouth of the landing craft, were already removed. Only their blood and weapons remained.
“See if any of our men are still alive.” Eisler ordered. They were not soldiers even though they wore the uniform. They did not sign up for combat.
“Three, Sir. They are weak, but alive.”
“Let's get them to the cargo bay.”
Eisler led the way, blaster at the ready. The other men carried the wounded. He stuck his head through the door. “Don’t shoot, it’s Eisler.”
They had shut the lights off, so Eisler was trying to adjust to the darkness.
“Come in,” Donaldson’s voice rang out.
The volunteer group carried the wounded in, one at a time. They set them down behind a crate. “Do what you can for them, Pillins. We’re headed back out.”
“Yes, Sir.”
They went the other direction down the corridor.
They had not gone far when they saw a group of the enemy at the far end of the hall. One of them was giving orders to the rest, and they would take out in different directions. Others came up and saluted. The man would bark orders to them too, and they would head out.
The leader of the invasion. He must die. Eisler opened fire. His men followed his lead. Most of those at the end of the corridor, were cut down. It soon filled with more enemy soldiers. Their return fire hit the walls around them. The man next to Eilser fell. Merken glanced down. Markle, Merdel? He couldn’t remember the man’s name. “Retreat.”
Walking backward, he kept up a rate of fire. Someone tugged on his arm. “In here, Sir.” They barricaded themselves in a utility closet. One of the mechanics pulled a panel off the ducting. “This goes down to deck two, where the generator is.”
Eisler looked down the duct. “Is it safe?” It was a stupid question. The enemy was blasting away at the door. Soon, they would be through it.
“Sure, we do it all the time.” The man jumped in, and was gone.
“The rest of you go. I’ll hold them off.”
Chapter 50
The door turned red hot as the enemy pounded away at it with their blasters. The service room door was thicker, but still about to burst. As the last man slid down the duct, Eisler jumped in head first.
He gained speed. The duct went straight down at this point. He couldn’t even slow himself down. It was completely black inside. He held his breath, expecting to smash into some unseen object. Then the duct turned and leveled out, slowing to a stop right at an open panel.
As he climbed out, he could hear a clackety-clack sound coming down the duct. “Grenade!” He jumped to the other side of the large green generator. The explosion splintered the duct into a hundred pieces.
Two Marines came running into the room, blasters at the ready. “Lieutenant, what are you doing here? This deck has been flanked. We are retreating to deck one.”
“Lead the way.” Eisler’s ears were still ringing. They all scrambled down a stairway, then turned to face the enemy.
They weren’t long in coming. Twenty Trilian soldiers crept down the stairs. Three crumpled and fell as Eisler and his men opened up on them. The rest pulled back.
“How many men do we have down here?” Eisler asked.
“There’s five at the other stairwell, mostly cooks.”
A wide-eyed mechanic turned to Eisler. “Sir, we’ve done what the captain asked. We caused a disturbance. We’re trapped. Shouldn’t we surrender?”
The grim-faced Marine shook his head back and forth. “The Trilians don’t take prisoners.”
The young man swallowed. “I see.”
“Eisler, what is your situation?” Jopsen came over the communicator.
“We have been driven to deck one. There is no retreating from here, Sir.”
“Deck fifteen has fallen to the enemy, but their attacks have slackened. Whatever you are doing is helping.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
“Grenade!” the Marine called out as it rolled down the stairs. The men ducked in doorways as the thing went off with an ear shattering boom. Enemy soldiers rushed down the stairs blasting away. Eisler and his men returned fire. The Marine next to him took a hit to the chest. Two more mechanics fell dead.
An eerie quiet filled the stairs. All of the Trilians lay dead. “That was a near thing,” Eisler said to no one in particular. Everything went black. “What’s going on?”
“They’ve shut down the generator. Emergency power will come on in three seconds,” one of the mechanics replied. An eerie red glow filled the stairway. “It will only give us minimal light and basic life support. We will have no communications.”
Eisler swallowed as he braced for the next attack. His plan, kill as many as he could before he died. He stood there over an hour. The temperature decreased. He could now see his breath. “I can’t take it anymore, I’m going up to see what’s going on.”
“No, Sir. Allow me,” the remaining Marine said.
“We all go together. I don’t want to be left here like a sitting duck,” the young mechanic replied.
“We go together,” Eisler agreed.
They crept cautiously up the stairway, stepping over the bodies of dead Trilians as they went. Instead of meeting an ambush head on, they found an empty corridor. The mechanic walked into the generator room. Looking at the large machine, he said, “I can fix this.”
“Do it,” Eisler ordered.
“But, Sir,” the Marine protested. “As soon as the lights come back on, the enemy will come rushing down here.”
“Let them come. I don’t want to hide anymore.”
Eisler watched nervously at the doorway as the mechanic worked on the machine. Every clank and pop echoed in the room. He was sure hundreds of Trilians would come rushing in at any second.
The generator hummed to life and the lights came back on.
“Do you read me?” came a voice through Eisler’s communicator.
“Smitty, is that you?”
“Lieutenant, you’re alive! I’ve been trying to reach you for over an hour. I was stuck out here when the last red alert happened. I turned my power off and played dead. They left me alone. Sir, the enemy, they’ve retreated. They got back into their landing craft and flew into the nebula.”
“Why would they do that? They were winning.”
“Well, Sir
. There are four frigates orbiting the station. Commodore Merken has arrived.”
Chapter 51
Commodore Merken scanned the station. “What a mess.”
“Sir,” the helmsman looked up from his screen. “The enemy ship is exiting the far side of the nebula.”
“All ships, attack the carrier.”
Being no match for the speed of a fast frigate, the enemy turned and launched its badly depleted fighter force. The smaller guns of the frigates made short work of them.
“Take out the engines,” Merken ordered when the fighters were dealt with. The carrier turned to flee but several hits to its propulsion disabled the ship. “All frigates distance, yourself from the enemy.”
Moore came up to the commodore. “You don’t think they’ll self-destruct, do you?”
“I do. It all makes sense now. It was a Trilian ship that I encountered all those years ago. They didn’t want to be discovered. That is why they self-destructed. I wasn’t prepared for it and lost a lot of men. This time, I’m prepared.”
The main screen went white as the carrier exploded. It shook the frigate violently. Moore was knocked off his feet, but quickly recovered. “Sir, you were right.”
“Damage report, all ships,” Merken ordered.
“Only minor damage, Sir,” replied the helmsman.
“Back to the station.”
The crewmembers were still picking up bodies from off the floor as Merken inspected the station along with Jopsen and Eisler. “What happened to those Marines I sent you?”
“They fought well, Sir, but there weren’t enough of them. Most of them died, along with their commander,” Jopsen replied.
“Anders is dead, Sir?” Eisler hadn’t heard.
“He was finally happy, going from hot spot to hot spot, shooting his blaster and throwing grenades. They got him when they stormed deck fifteen. He took down a lot of them in the process.”
“And the Trilian you captured?”
