Assault Squadron - Book One

by D K Evans

  “I know you’re up there,” Aeton called out from the floor below, “If you come peacefully, I can assure you that you’ll be treated fairly.”

  “Sorry man, but your promises aren’t exactly worth much these days,” Ford called back.

  “It doesn’t have to be this way, Ford. If you cooperate, we can reward you very well indeed.”

  Sub was ignoring them, still keeping his pistol trained on the back of the scientist’s head as he feverishly scrambled to unlock more files to download. He moved his hand to unplug the data drive when a marine appeared at the top of the far staircase.

  Sub jumped aside as a torrent of bullets ripped through the air where he had just been standing. The scientist was punched off his feet in a brief haze of blood as the instrument panel next to him was pulverized. Ford haphazardly squeezed off a few rounds in response and instantly regretted it as the marine turned his attention to him. Bullets slammed into the furniture around him as Ford scrambled behind one of the work terminals, making himself as small as possible behind its metal housing. Sub rolled to his feet and fired at their attacker, hitting his armor and knocking him off balance as another marine reached the top of the stairs and opened fire.

  Ford took full advantage of the distraction to lunge for the nearest staircase, only to find another two marines charging up to meet him. Turning on the spot, he fired the rest of his magazine at them, a lucky round killing one on the spot as the other opened up with his carbine, shooting straight through the stairs and the command platform’s floor. Chunks of carpet spat upwards towards him, forcing Ford to roll towards the back of the room, right into the line of sight of the marine on the other side of the platform, who happily switched from shooting at Sub and joined in the fun. Ford swore and dove behind the main control terminal, flinching as the bullets buried themselves in the machinery and stitched across the scientist’s crumpled body. Fighting to keep his breathing under control, he reloaded his pistol.

  The marines closed in again and Sub lunged forward, grabbing the nearest one by the shoulder and jamming his pistol into the join between the soldier’s breastplate and helmet before he fired. Spinning on the spot, he hurled the assailant’s body across the room and into the marine climbing the other set of stairs, sending him crashing onto the computers below. Sub turned back towards the main console and froze on the spot. Ford was making a break for the data drive. They locked eyes for a split second. Sub was the first to act, raising his weapon and firing a volley of shots that sent Ford scrambling backwards into cover behind the control terminal. With unnatural speed, Sub leapt forwards and plucked the drive from its socket, slipping it into a pocket before he leapt off the platform and ran straight for the nearest exit.

  “Shit!”

  As the marines opened fire too late at Sub’s retreating figure, Ford cursed under his breath. He was going to be trapped here. Left to die as that bastard made his escape! Up on one of the screens, the display showed the last of the rings being broken apart – he didn’t have long. Frantically, he looked around for a way out. Then, as some of the marines paused to reload, he saw his opportunity. The spot where Sub and jumped from the platform.

  “Anything you can do, I can do better,” he said to himself and jumped to his feet.

  He sprinted at full pelt for the guardrail as another soldier appeared at the top of the far stairs and shot wildly in his direction. Ford leapt into the air and for one moment felt himself soaring across the room. Then he landed hard on one of the workstations below and tumbled to the floor. Groaning, he rolled onto his back and fired back the way he had fallen as the marine peered over the edge, catching a bullet in the view plate of his helmet for his troubles. Ford jumped to his feet and immediately started firing randomly around the room, sending the Federation troops scrambling for cover as he made a dash for the nearest exit. He reached the door and slammed his fist down on the keypad on the other side, causing the blast doors to slowly start to slide into place. Aeton leapt up from his hiding place amongst the control room desks and advanced on the closing opening, spitting rounds from his pistol into the metal bulkheads of the doorway as Ford flinched back out of sight. Aeton broke into a sprint for the closing aperture – if he could make it through, then Ford would have no chance of escape.

  As he neared the doorway, Ford popped out of cover and squeezed off a single badly-aimed shot. But it was enough. Aeton was tripped off his feet and sprawled across the deck, clutching a wounded leg and howling in pain. The door closed behind him and Ford jammed his data pad into the lock, scrambling the software and giving himself a few more minutes to escape as a flurry of slight tapping noises on the other side signified the marines vainly trying to shoot their way through. But he still had Sub to catch.

  -

  He arrived at the hangar just in time to see his quarry’s ship lift off. Wasting no time, Ford jumped aboard his own fighter and initiated the take-off sequence, swerving around some of the parked shuttles as he closed the canopy over himself before heading out into the darkness.

  Sub already had a head start. Ford brought up his tactical display and could see that the carrier was almost at the rendezvous point. A trail of tiny fighters and attack craft was following after. Any longer and they’d be jumping out, leaving him behind for the Federation to tidy up. If he was going to end this, it would have to happen soon. Ford pushed the engines to full power and followed after Sub’s ship, readying his missiles as the distance started to close. His vision tunneled as he counted down the seconds to launch. He blinked away a red flash in his peripheral vision as he homed in on his target.

  His mind caught up as cannon rounds punched through one of his wings and the scarlet exhaust plume of a Federation fighter seared past him at speed.

  “Dammit!” Ford wrestled the controls and brought the ship around to face his new opponent. The Fed pilot zoomed up and around in a large arc, forcing Ford to match his turn. Ford feinted to the side and dipped away in the opposite direction, taking advantage of the enemy’s split-second hesitation in order to get his guns to bear. The Federation pilot rolled to the side and out of Ford’s crosshairs as the cannons opened up. The rounds slashed through the blackness and disappeared uselessly into the distance. With the distance between them shrinking and Ford still on his tail, the enemy pilot fired his countermeasures. There were no missiles in the air, but at this distance, the mixture of flares and chaff was blinding as Ford flew straight through the cloud as it sparked across his canopy. A split second later, he emerged on the other side to find the Federation ship was gone. A moment of confusion later, and another burst of cannon fire screamed towards him, tearing through the midsection of his ship as the Fed pilot swooped back in from his blind spot. Ford cursed as his engines sputtered out and the cockpit controls went dark. The fighter settled into a gradual and silent roll as it carried on forward under its own momentum. The rounds must have punched straight through his power plant and drive systems. He watched as the red streak behind the Federation ship blew past and started a slow turn back around to finish him off. He was marooned. A sitting duck.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The Federation craft was completing its turn. Wordlessly, Ford checked that his suit systems were working properly. It was habit ingrained by training, really – there was virtually no chance that he’d survive the next volley, much less that he’d be ejected from the resultant explosion with an intact space suit. Ford felt oddly calm as he watched the fighter come back around and line up its final shots. At least he wouldn’t be captured. That at least was one silver lining. He watched through his visor as the enemy fighter got larger and larger.

  Then it detonated. Ford frowned in confusion as the Federation craft exploded in a ball of sparks and burning ordnance. Then through the mess flew a familiar craft. Sub’s ship.

  “Unless you want to stay put, you should get moving,” the radio hissed as Sub maneuvered his ship overhead.

  Ford remained silent, staring up dumbfounded as the fight
er stopped just a few feet away, matching his derelict craft’s speed and rotation.

  “Well?” Sub asked, “Are you coming or not.”

  Ford grunted in reply and activated the manual release levers for his canopy, flinching as the oxygen was vented from the cockpit and releasing himself from the seat. He floated into a crouch and gingerly pushed off with his legs from the control panel. He floated across the short distance between the two ships and came to rest on the back of Sub’s fighter. Ford activated the magnetic patches on his gloves and boots and stuck himself firmly in place. He gave a solemn nod to where Sub was watching intently from inside the cockpit, and then scrunched his eyes shut as the engines punched them forward.

  He tried not to think that one false move would send him tumbling off into the void, spinning around and around until his oxygen ran out. With his heart racing, Ford opened one eye to look around. Debris from the battle was streaking past them at alarming speed. Off on one side, the station was silhouetted by the Ovlapis system’s pale dwarf star, it’s fractured metal bands still tearing themselves apart under the stresses of their own momentum. On the other side, a series of distant pinpoint flashes were visible against the carpet of darkness and stars – the Federation’s reinforcements had just jumped in. And ahead, the carrier was taking on board the last stragglers from the raiding party.

  The came in low against the carrier’s hull, so low that Ford was terrified that he would be scraped off the back of the fighter like an especially squishy barnacle off the back of a turtle. Sub navigated them to a free docking ring and Ford scrambled out of the way as it clamped down over the canopy, leaving him alone on the outside of the ship. With his own breathing filling his ears, Ford peered around for an entrance. He did not want to find out firsthand what happened to people outside the ship when it jumped out of the system. Then he saw an unused docking ring several spaces over with the airlock controls plainly visible. With grim determination, he started trudging towards it using his magnetized boots. Carefully swinging one foot after the other, he thought about what he was about to do. First he was going to get inside. Then he was going to get even.

  -

  Sub turned as the door to the communications room hissed open. Ford stepped inside, flanked by Ellery and a group of armed security personnel.

  “There’ll be no need for violence,” he told them, “The excitement is over for today.”

  “You can say that again,” Ford spat, “We’re setting course to link up with the rest of the Rebel fleet. Until then, you’ll be enjoying the journey from the comfort of your very own jail cell.”

  “Understandable,” Sub glanced at the guards, “Though I would have thought that you’d show a bit more gratitude, Ford.”

  “There’s always an angle with you isn’t there? Always think that you’re a step ahead of everyone.”

  “It’s over, Sub,” Ellery stepped forward with an open hand, “Give me the data you pulled off that station and I’ll make sure that you’re treated well.”

  “Ok then,” Sub shrugged, “This part of my assignment is complete anyway.”

  He turned and pulled the drive out of one of the communication terminals, handing it over with his usual snake-like indifference. It was only then that the rest of them thought to look at the dsiplay screens.

  “You’re broadcasting this?” Ellery asked incredulously.

  “Some of it. The parts of interest to my employer.”

  “We can check the computer logs,” she replied, “Trace the signal right to its destination. I don’t think this ‘employer’ of yours is going to be secret for much longer.”

  “You could try,” Sub said, gesturing to the destination coordinates on the screen, “But you’ll find that the point of contact is a mere relay satellite floating in space. From there, the trail goes cold.”

  Ellery shot him a frosty look, “You really played us, huh? Had us come out here to fight and die, for what? So your bosses could get a leg up on the competition?”

  “Don’t be so cynical, I can assure you that they have your best interests at heart. This data… well it’s just too interesting from a scientific perspective to let it fall into the wrong hands.”

  Ellery shook her head and signaled the guards to move in. They cuffed Sub’s hands behind his back and started to hustle him out of the room.

  “Scientific…” Ford murmured as his mind played at piecing together jigsaw puzzles for the second time that day, “The interest is purely scientific?”

  “I’m not a mind reader,” Sub smiled, “But that’s what I was briefed.”

  “All this time, I thought you were some secret agent. Sent by some other faction to muddy the waters and make life difficult for the Federation. But that’s not the case at all, is it?”

  “What are you saying?” Ellery folded her arms.

  “Think about it, he’s got physical augmentation that would be considered state of the art even on Earth, he’s had surgery to draw blueprints into his brain and the MRI tech told me that his brain activity is that of a developing mind, not an adult’s.”

  “Your point being?”

  “He’s wasn’t some agent recruited for this job,” Ford paused, “He was built for this job.”

  “You mean a clone?”

  “Something like that,” he shrugged, “But the only people who’d have the tech to do something so crazy for such a seemingly insignificant mission would be…”

  “The Singularist League,” Ellery finished for him as they turned to stare at Sub, “Holy shit.”

  “Yeah, ‘holy shit’ indeed. And there’s no telling how many others like him they’ve sent out into the galaxy to do who-knows-what.”

  “Well done,” Sub deadpanned, “The great detective has finally cracked the case. Took you long enough. After what I’d read in your file, I was beginning to feel disappointed.”

  “Just take him to the brig,” Ford ordered the guards, “I don’t want to see him again.”

  “Oh you’ll change your tune, Ford,” Sub gave one of his dead-eyed grins as he was hauled out of the room, “You’ll need my help soon enough. My mission may be over for now, but your fight is only just beginning.”

  AUTHOR'S NOTES

  Hi,

  This is my first time writing fiction in a self-publishing context. I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. As it is my first book, apologies if there were any editing or formatting issues - I’ll hopefully refine the production process as time goes on. If you’ve made it this far, please do leave a review, as it helps me judge how popular the book is with readers and lets me know what aspects of the story you guys liked.

  I grew up reading a large amount of adventure novels in all kinds of genres, but science fiction of one kind or another has always drawn me back. I suppose it’s the endless possibilities that can unfold as a result of humanity’s relationship with technology, for better or worse. As I continue this series, I hope to explore some of those possibilities and unravel the mystery that has arisen in this first installment. I’m not sure if this series is going to be strictly ‘military science fiction’ or if it will branch off into other genres. But I don’t intend to restrict the narrative to any one ‘niche’; if I have a cool idea, I’ll put it in the story.

  That said, I’ve tried to keep things somewhat relatable to present-day technology and military operations (in terms of ranks, organizational structure and language, at least), without going as in-depth as an author like Tom Clancy. Though as the series continues, there should hopefully be some more detail added as the universe becomes a bit more fleshed-out.

  Thanks for reading!

  D K Evans

 

 

 
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