The Colony

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The Colony Page 12

by John M. Davis

on.

  “Attack...who?” Julia asked.

  Her question answered with a simple glare from the man who'd went from broken to soldering in a matter of seconds.

  The demons have a fleet of their own.

  “Report!” The ship's captain demanded, entering the large CIC in search of answers.

  “We're giving them all we have, sir, but it doesn't look good.” one of the staff members replied, watching the battle play out on his computer monitor.

  “Giving who all we've got?” the captain asked, pushing everyone to realize he knew nothing beyond the blasts.

  “Sir,” the staff member replied. “We had three ships nearly fall on top of us. Look to be marked with the Succubus logo, and they aren't holding any punches.”

  “Our rail guns?” the captain asked.

  “The ones we have left are firing,” the man replied in defeat. “But having minimal effect. Their armor plating is unlike anything we've seen before.”

  He kicked it around for a moment. The idea of their single thermal shot. Each marine ship of this size was considered a war ship, and each war ship held one. Thermonuclear warhead. Otherwise known as a TW.

  “Hit one of the bastards without a TW. Alert the fleet of our position and issue a distress signal. Sound the abandon ship alarm.”

  “Sir?” the staff member asked, several more turning to look to him as well. Seeking confirmation of what they'd just heard.

  “My code entry is 4-6-09-5-27-11 – you have your orders.” the captain confirmed.

  “Yes sir.”

  “Follow that order through and then get everyone in here to safety.” the captain asked.

  It could be heard through the ship's com system, as well as the com system on every ship-to-ship fighter that currently found itself dogfighting for survival against superior number.

  Marine Command, this is ship identification delta-seven-delta. Sending last known coordinates and advising we are abandoning ship. Heavy fire from enemy craft. Evacuating to the surface to await rescue and extraction. I say again Marine Command, this is ship identification delta-seven-delta. We are going down.

  Lieutenant Jack Strong had never been in this type of situation before, but knew the layout of such a ship like the back of his hand. Quickly gripping his fingers onto Julia's and locking them tightly.

  “Stay with me. Long push to the hangar. Just don't panic and run as hard as you can. Stay with me.” he said.

  “O...okay.”

  The demon's ships were strange looking by human standards. They were long, almost blade-like and seemed to be spiked on the front tips. Communication antennas, as well as a hangar door which spewed fighter ships from the front.

  Their cannon bursts fired from the top of the ship, each shot bolting up from one of two massive holes and burning to a glow before completely changing direction and firing onto the marine vessel.

  Jack recognized the glow of red and blue, knowing it was similar to what he had encountered on the surface only days before. Still, he ran without a second thought. Never daring to slow down.

  Julia remained behind him. Better than Jack had expected. In fact, she'd covered a lot of ground in better fashion than many soldiers who'd served with him had. A compliment to her will to live, if nothing else.

  “Up ahead.” Jack yelled, the bursts of destruction now hitting their ship more rapidly. A fact which the lieutenant knew was an indication that the ship's rail guns had failed.

  The entire hangar was filled with the bustle of bodies. Each of them eager to cram into one of the few remaining ships. Each lifeboat would plunge to the surface and with any luck, land near the rest. At which time they would regroup and do what they could to survive an attacking force which was soon to be behind them.

  Jack pressed through the crowd as best he could, still holding Julia's hand tight, though it became increasingly harder to edge his way through what now seemed like a wall of human flesh.

  He stopped dead in his tracks, as did everyone else as hush flowed through the crowd. A single gunshot to blame.

  “Let the man and woman through, you bastards!” Renaldo yelled, having fired a warning shot through the hangar bay.

  It didn't stall the crowd for long, but it did give enough of a window for Jack and Julia to make it to the skiff where Renaldo remained standing.

  “Welcome back boss.” Renaldo commented with a smile, extending his free arm and helping each of them to the chopper.

  “The general?” Jack asked.

  “Doing general things I suppose.” the sniper replied.

  Standing to her feet, Chandra wrapped her arms around the lieutenant and nearly refused to let go. Drawing strange looks from Julia, who had become so attached to the man in uniform.

  “We didn't know that you'd make it in time.” Wesley commented.

  “Yea, well,” Jack replied, turning to look into a mob of humans that longed to survive. Each of them beginning to trample the other in hopes of grabbing a place aboard a lifeboat. “We're aren't out of the woods just yet.”

  Chandra finally cut the lieutenant loose, though she did her best to keep him close.

  “A little help?” Jack asked, turning to begin offering his own arm to those who needed help climbing up into the chopper.

  “Wait? The children?” Julia asked loudly.

  “Relax, they were on an earlier flight out. Missing all the fun.” Wesley replied.

  “You mean?”

  “Yea, they're no doubt out of harm's way. Eating well and sleeping warm, I'd say.” Wesley added.

  “Oh,” Julia replied with a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

  People continued to file into the chopper, each one of them hoisting themselves up through a large door at its rear. Dozens more awaited their turn, but Jack knew it could never be.

  “We pick up too many more and we'll be weighted. Never make it to the surface.” the lieutenant commented loudly.

  He also knew that the war ship, no matter how mighty, was still taking major shots and would soon burst into nothing.

  One of the two soldiers positioned in the front of the chopper, turned to hand-signal the door closed. His order followed moments later by another soldier pressing a large button to its right.

  The passengers aboard the chopper could hear the screams of those outside – total chaos continuing.

  Cries for help and pounding against the thick steel of blast doors, as the chopper began to pull from the ship's deck slowly. Jack's stomach began to knot as he thought of those screaming people being left behind. Perhaps a few of them would find themselves safely aboard another skiff – though he knew for certain that most would perish.

  Jack also thought of the war ensuing right outside of their ship – small fighters tearing into one another as cannon shots ripped wildly through the void black of space. He understood that their journey to the surface would no doubt be a turbulent ride. One that may find them all meeting death by way of exploding fragmentation.

  Then again, should they survive the onslaught of enemy fire, their survival could very well be short lived down below. On a rain-drenched rock that hosted the colony. The fucking spot which, in his mind, started everything. It had quickly become a curse of sorts, a damnation of his sins now pushing against him.

  Jack would be lucky to survive the free-fall. They all would. If luck was on his side, Jack's inner soldier would once again be forced to fight for their survival. This time, however, it was as if he were a wounded tiger with nothing more to lose. His wife, his crew – everything he'd lived for up until this moment. Gone. Jack embraced the fight to come, his fingers clamoring a bit from the thoughts of revenge against these bastards of the stars. This time he didn't run from the fight, he ran to it.

  Two tears in a bucket.

  “Delta-Seven-Delta, this is Star Hammer Orion. We read you loud and clear and have received your coordinates. Hold tight and give them hell, we're nearly three full days out. Copy?” a soldier replied through his hand com, awaitin
g a reply.

  A reply that would never come.

  “Call our scout ships back and burn to their position.” a highly-decorated officer ordered.

  “Yes sir,” one of the soldiers replied, nearly a dozen in total – each seated in front of a workstation. “May not have the fuel to make a return trip if we burn the entire way.”

  “So be it,” the commander replied. “Send out a message to the defense platform, tell them we're responding. Advise them we may be burning into a one-way trip and ask them to get us a tanker ship as soon as possible.”

  “Yes sir.” the soldier replied.

  Each of the soldiers knew it'd be a one way trip if they burned in. Simply put, the ship would consume fuel at alarming rates – pushing the engines to their limits in return. It would allow them to make what was normally a three day trip in about half of the time. The core warned against this, however, as the ship would tap through its reserves and become stranded at its destination.

  It was a gamble. Each of the six Star Hammer ships were nothing short of massive. Built to serve as a command post in space, they were filled with commanding weaponry and thousands of skilled marines who knew how to utilize it.

  As four birds made their approach to the Hammer's docking bay – each of them an unarmed recon shuttle, their lights blinked of red and yellow. Sensors which began to communicate with lights built within the flooring of the hangar. Moments later, the shuttle's on-board navigational systems synced with the navigational systems built into the hangar's flooring. All of the lights turning green.

  Standard

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