Extinction

by Korza, Jay

  “You got it, Dad.”

  Chapter 1

  Coalition Military Installation - Clandestine

  Late August on Terra 12-2772 meant that total darkness would cover the marine installation for another two months. The branch of government known as the Earth Interstellar Expansion Department had long since given up trying to assign names to new planets taken into the Coalition, and had simply started designating them by number. Terra 12-2772 was a marine base on the outskirts of charted space and was almost always in total eclipse by its nearest neighboring planet. The first marines to colonize this God-forsaken frozen wasteland decided that because it was almost always shrouded in darkness, “Clandestine” was the most appropriate name for their new home.

  Daria sat on her bunk with the slightly melted dogtags of her husband clenched tightly in her hand. The dogtags alone survived the explosion that had just two weeks ago lit up the sky over Clandestine and destroyed two fighters in a training exercise.

  Gunnery Sergeant Mike “Marvel” O’Connor was weapons officer aboard one of the two-seater crafts when the explosion occurred. The official report stated that O’Connor hadn’t shut down his weapons panel in time after the computer detected a leak in his cold fusion lasers, which resulted in an explosion that ended up taking out his wingman as well. Daria couldn’t—wouldn’t—believe that her husband would make that mistake. She had known him long enough and been in more than one battle with him to know that Mike didn’t make mistakes like that, especially during a routine training mission.

  Daria was a navy medic, a battlefield medic, and held the respected title of “corpsman.” Hundreds of years ago when Earth ventured out into the cosmos, there was a political battle over which of the armed services would be the conqueror of space. In Daria’s opinion, too much ego and testosterone were involved, which led to a couple of assassinations and much political blackmail. Eventually the president of that time made the decision that the Navy would be the primary military service to explore the cosmos. Of course, the marines are a part of the Navy, so they were included in the first push beyond Earth’s solar system. The Navy continued to take care of the transportation and almost all the air and space aircraft support while the marines continued with their role as ground troops.

  Corpsman was the only rating from the Navy that integrated with the Marine Corps in such a way that made the corpsman more marine than sailor. They could choose to wear Marine Corps uniforms and abide by Marine Corps regulation if they wanted to, and most field corpsman did. Their long history of distinguished service in battle had raised them to a different level, which almost made them an individual entity separate from both branches they served. Many of the grunts in Daria’s platoon had often kidded her, saying that Mike had married her just to get the better quarters and choice of duty stations that corpsman received.

  She laughed aloud as she thought of that. If she had had her choice of duty, she and Mike would never have been on this rock of ice and Mike wouldn’t be dead. Why were they here anyway? This outpost held no strategic significance that she knew of, especially considering Earth hadn’t been in a major war in more than fifty years.

  Nonetheless, Clandestine had a complement of more than a hundred thousand marines and it was the first time a whole planet had been designated as a military installation. On the other hand, what sane terra former would want to live on this block of ice? She couldn’t understand it and for the time being decided to just stop trying.

  Corporal Davies sat at the bar waiting for Daria to walk in. Davies had loved Mike like an older brother and felt he owed it to him to watch out for Daria now that Mike was gone. He thought about that for a minute and smiled. Truth was, Daria could take care of herself better than Davies could. Davies was six foot four inches and about two hundred sixty pounds but as clumsy as a toddler just learning to walk. Mike had pulled his ass out of the fire on more than one occasion in battle and Davies wasn’t the type of guy to forget that.

  If it weren’t for the fact that Davies could hit a penny at a few thousand yards out with a sniper rifle, he would’ve been booted from the corps years ago. He was the best sniper in the Coalition. So what the hell was he doing here? He couldn’t figure out who he had pissed off to get hung out to dry, or rather freeze, like this.

  Just then, Daria walked through the doors and gave the place a once-over. Davies always admired the way she could quickly size up any situation. Her stare was penetrating and she never missed a thing, but there was always warmth behind her eyes that until now only Mike and Davies could see. But as she stood there, Davies realized that the little bit of warmth that used to reside there had been replaced with something much colder—colder than the core of the ice planet they now stood on.

  To anyone who didn’t know her, Daria was just the opposite of what you’d expect a marine to look like. She was slight of build, only five foot six inches tall but weighing in at a well-hidden one hundred forty pounds. A lot of muscle was neatly tucked away inside the small frame that stood in the doorway. She was also lightning fast, a trait that Davies wished he shared. Her ability with knives was unmatched. She had taught him many ways to get beyond his awkwardness and kill someone quickly and quietly from less than a kilometer away.

  Her abilities had resulted in more than one or two marines ending up with broken faces or other body parts after trying to get a little too friendly with Daria after a night of drinking. More often than not, the MPs would show up, only to find Daria skillfully attending to the wounds she had just inflicted on a whole squad. After all, they were all marines in the end, right?

  Davies saw three Force Recon guys sitting nearby who looked as though they were about to make the mistake that many before them had also made. They weren’t part of the normal complement that now resided on Clandestine and had just that day come in from a several months’ long scouting mission.

  They had been drinking and bragging for hours and now saw at the door what they perceived as R&R. Davies heard them talking about Daria and was about to warn them but he stopped himself. He decided that a little R&R was EXACTLY what Daria needed right now.

  Daria had completed scanning her new environment and started towards Davies when the first Recon approached her, holding two beers.

  “Hey Doc,” he said, with a beer extended towards Daria, “how ’bout you check my dick! It’s a little dry from my last mission. I think it could use a little lotion or something.”

  Much to Davies’ surprise, Daria just walked on by—that is, until the second Recon blocked her way. “What’s the rush? We just want to buy you a drink and maybe play a little doctor later. What do you say, Doc?”

  With a motion faster than even Davies’ sober eyes could see, Daria grabbed the beer bottle from Recon Two’s hand and twirled to land a crushing blow to the first Recon’s face, shattering his nose and cheekbone, not to mention the bottle. Before he could react, Recon Two had his balls trapped inside a vise-like hand from Daria and was up on his toes, trying to stumble away.

  “Well, your testicles are extremely small and I can’t seem to find a penis anywhere,” Daria said as she put her other hand on his throat and began to lift him off his feet. As Recon Two sailed over the bar and landed against the mirror, shattering it, he faintly heard before he passed out, “Oh, and by the way, you might want to get that concussion checked out too.”

  As she turned toward Recon Three, who was still sitting at the table and trying to decide whether he wanted to help his friends or even whether he COULD help them, she stated in a very quiet, reserved voice, “Would you like to play doctor, too?” He didn’t get a chance to answer because the first marine was up again and wielding his field knife.

  Daria had beaten many marines in fights before but even in her depressed state, had no desire to kill one. So she decided to end this quickly and struck out with her right foot; she made contact with his knee, causing an audible “pop-crack” that was heard throughout the bar.

  She decided not to take a
ny chances with the marine still sitting at the table, so with a deftly placed axe kick, she hit the side of the table nearest her, which popped up the other side, cracking him on the chin and breaking his jaw. Before the table or the marine’s body could fall, she side kicked the now vertical table, sending it into the poor marine, whose only crime was to choose the wrong buddies to have shore leave with. Both table and marine fell to the floor, both broken in more than one place.

  Daria looked around and, seeing no other threats, took her seat next to Davies and asked the bartender to call a corpsman.

  “Aren’t you a corpsman?” he asked as he reached for his comlink.

  “Not tonight I’m not,” she sighed. “Not tonight.” She knew she hadn’t caused any life-threatening injuries. Picking up her beer and taking back a long drink while she heard moans and whimpering all around didn’t cause any moral dilemma for Daria tonight.

  Although feeling partly responsible for the carnage lying around the bar, Davies decided that even if he had warned them, they probably would’ve still made the same mistake. He could see a small grin to either side of the bottle as Daria drank her beer, and Davies knew he had made the right call.

  The rest of the night was filled with silence between them while the rest of the bar recapped the action to one another as new friends walked in. As the alcohol levels rose, so did the number of injuries Daria inflicted, as well as the number of marines she inflicted them on. Yes, this was exactly what she needed right now.

  Chapter 2

  Planetside – Intel Gathering Mission

  Seth couldn’t believe how hot it was so early in the morning. He had awakened in the middle of the night so that he could not only travel in a blanket of darkness to conceal his movements, but to also keep himself out of the blistering sun, which was threatening to show its full self shortly.

  He had been hunted by his enemies for the past three days and had run out of water at the start of the second. He wasn’t sure how long he could avoid capture but he had to try to complete his mission. Every other member of his detachment had met with an unfortunate fate and, unaware of how the rest of the task force was faring, he had to push on in case he was the last surviving operative left to complete the mission.

  Although the vast prairie he traveled through had tall grass to hide in, it was also very dry from a recent drought and Seth cringed at the noise he made as he walked through it. He had to find water soon. He was heading toward a tree line that seemed to have a shade more green than everything else around him and he prayed that it meant water.

  At a hundred meters from the tree line, Seth froze in his tracks. He knew that this planet had indigenous life but hadn’t even thought that a predator of another sort might also be using the tall grass for cover.

  He was nearly face to tail with what would pass, much too closely, for a tiger on Earth. The creature had a long tail with a bulb at the end, in which many six-centimeter long spikes were imbedded. Not to mention the eight claws on each paw that seemed larger and sharper than his field knife. The ears were almost non-existent but that would be expected on a thin atmosphere planet and was much to Seth’s advantage. This tiger probably hunted with sight and scent and didn’t rely too much on hearing.

  Seth was upwind of the brisk breeze swaying the grass. All marine-issue uniforms had a uniquely designed cloth that absorbed body fluids and retained them, cooling the wearer and also negating any scents that would normally be present with any hardworking soldier. As an extra bonus, each soldier had a water-recycling unit that was attached to an outlet in their field blouse. This device allowed all of the liquid output from the wearer to be recycled into drinkable water. Unfortunately, Seth’s had been damaged during the initial attack three days ago.

  Earth had been in a war three hundred years ago with a species known as the Shirkas. Their culture had never passed beyond the hunter/gatherer stage and throughout their scientific and intellectual advancements, they kept to the old ways that had never failed to provide for them. Consequently, Earth was faced with an enemy that could hunt down their soldiers and defeat them almost effortlessly on any battlefield. The government created and used a biological weapon designed specifically for the Shirkas, which destroyed their home world and many settlements before they finally surrendered.

  Seth, and every other marine, was now wearing a uniform designed by the Shirkas, which allowed him to be invisible to any heat or pheromone detector known to exist. And now for the first time since he joined the Marine Corps, he was glad to be wearing the scratchy cloth that was probably the only thing saving him from being lunch for the creature that now crouched before him.

  He realized that the muscular cat was too interested in his current prey to notice him anyway. And then he saw it: a watering hole with some six-legged herd animals cautiously drinking. He also saw his objective. The enemy had decided to secure the watering hole for themselves and had set up their primary post twenty-five meters from the water’s edge. What luck!

  Now, all he had to do was steal the battle plans from an enemy camp with about two hundred armed soldiers surrounding it and get back to the extraction point. No problem! he thought sarcastically. Of course, now there was the problem of an eight-fanged feline hunter who decided to take notice of his presence.

  Seth pulled his field knife and prepared for the worst. The cat had enough length in his arms to rip Seth’s throat out without him even being able to get close to the beast with his knife. The cat let out a spine-chilling growl and pounced. Seth ducked but it didn’t matter; the cat hadn’t jumped at him but rather over his head.

  He twirled on his heel and saw the cat on top of an enemy soldier. The beast had already started pulling the limp carcass away before Seth could help. What a terrible way to die, he thought, becoming a meal to some creature on an out-of-the-way planet while washing off at a watering hole.

  The soldier had apparently gone down to the watering hole to wash up and had taken off his shirt, which allowed the cat to smell his presence. His scent was obviously more appealing to the beast than Seth’s scentless body, which was mere meters from the cat’s tail. He couldn’t do anything for the soldier now, so Seth decided on his course of action.

  Locating the fuel dump and weapons locker, he decided that the best plan would be to blow up the entire base. He knew that even if he did retrieve the battle plans, he’d be shot before getting two hundred meters from the compound, much less back to his own base. If he couldn’t have the plans then no one could.

  Crouching low, he approached the edge of the water with the idea of swimming quietly up to the outer edge of the base where concealment was waiting behind two armored personnel carriers. As he slipped into the water, he realized, much to his dismay, that the water was only about two feet deep and not very concealing.

  Angrily, he slithered up the muddy bank and grabbed a hold of a sapling’s small trunk to help himself out of the mud. The tree began to move backward. Confused, he looked up only to find one of the six-legged pack animals staring at him with a dumbfounded look. It then began licking Seth’s forehead. Seth tried to breathe but couldn’t. Was the animal trying to figure out what he was or what he would taste like?

  He couldn’t believe that he had made the same mistake twice, and in less than ten minutes of the first one! With a sigh of relief, Seth began to breathe again as the animal let out a soft cooing noise that he decided was a sign of affection. The animal nuzzled Seth’s forehead and licked him again.

  Then the light went on! Why not use the animals to hide behind to get to the compound? He crouched behind the huge bulky body and found he was able to get the animal to go wherever he wanted with some minor pushing here and pulling there. He headed back to the herd and was able to start ten of the herd animals towards the enemy compound.

  Apparently the moving herd was not an unusual sight for the enemy because they were not at all alarmed. Some took out cameras for photos to send to whoever might be missing them back home. A couple jo
ked about making steak the special for tonight’s menu. He hoped no one followed up on that last comment.

  He got to the depot and although unguarded, it was locked. He pulled off the key panel and hot-wired the circuitry. Not too difficult a feat for someone who had an advanced degree in electrical engineering.

  Seth could still remember the way his mom cried for weeks after he joined the Marine Corps. She couldn’t figure out why he would want to go off and die somewhere out in the galaxy during some stupid battle that no one really cared about. When instead he could work for a big corporation with his talents and make big bucks back on Earth.

  His dad was also upset but more for the fact that he spent a lot of money on Seth’s education. His father repeatedly told him that if he wanted to be a marine, he should’ve done it before so much money was spent on his schooling.

  He got the door open and found exactly what he was looking for. He decided to select only one rifle because he knew he’d be dead after placing the explosives anyway so he wanted to travel light for better speed. A smile played across his face as he picked up the beautiful weapon that hummed to life with his touch.

  The weapon fired a caseless, powderless 12mm projectile with or without an explosive tip that used jet fuel as a propellant. This allowed the weapon to be fired in a complete vacuum or underwater. It had a side mounted, electro-magnetic (EM) pulse laser that disabled most personal electronics and even some of the more heavily shielded vehicle electronics. It had a grenade launcher under the main barrel, which he filled to its six-shot capacity and then grabbed ten 12mm one hundred-round magazines, stuffing nine into his pockets and slapping one home into the magazine well.

  He found antipersonnel and antitank mines and decided that two small personnel mines would be enough for the fuel depot while four antitank mines would surely destroy the command bunker.