Frontline sf-4

by Randolph Lalonde

“There's always the Botanical Gallery, there are businesses setting up down there I hear.”

  “Yeah, I'm on the hairstylist's waiting list, she's booked a week and a half ahead. I'm not complaining though, they finally got most of us out of bunks. I'm sharing quarters with Gabby, we each get our own room so it's nice. Still have to go to mess or observation to eat though.”

  “I was lucky to get my own quarters, still don't know many people on the ship though, I could have used a week in the bunks for that.”

  “You're not missing anything, trust me.”

  “Looks like things are about to get started, here they come. Wow, looks like the rumours are true; I don't see Frost but Lildell is there. I guess the rumour that he walked after Steph, er, Chief Vega broke up with him is true.”

  “Damn. I'm going to have to avoid Oota Galoona completely. You're so lucky, you get all the best dirt first.”

  “And my sources will remain anonymous. I thought most of the gunners hung out at the Pilot's Den.”

  “Not since Frost dragged that guy out by his collar and nearly froze him to death next door in the unused quarters there.”

  “Ah.”

  The pair watched as Deck Chief Vercelli, Engineering Chief Grady, Security Chief Vega, Gunnery Lieutenant Lildell, Commander Everin, Master Of The Helm Ashley Lamport, Commander Price and their immediate subordinates were led by Standing Captain Alice Valent to the seats surrounding the high port side podium. As Captain Valent settled at the podium all of the senior staff members quietly sat down.

  A QUIET PLEASE sign appeared on the backs of all the seats and silence settled across the circular space like a wave. Everyone who was on their feet sat down and the crew looked at their calm Chiefs expectantly.

  “For those of you who don't know, Captain Valance is currently on mission off the ship. I'm his First Officer and Acting Captain Alice Valent. For clarity I'm to be referred to as Captain or Ma'am until his return,” Alice started in an official tone. The amplifiers sent her voice to everyone's ears with near full equality. “You're all sitting in this room because you are responsible for other members of the crew, will be put in a position of responsibility, or are a qualified pilot ready for service. Four hours ago Triton emerged from hyperspace after doing a broad loop back to our starting point. There was no contact with Eden Fleet or Regent Galactic ships. During the Captain's mission he's discovered that Pandem and the surrounding solar system is in distress so we'll have to extract him. Our objectives in the near future will directly affect our chances of retrieving him from Pandem. Before Captain Valance went on a retrieval run he had completed planning for a set of missions based on verified intelligence. Considering our level of readiness and the high likelihood that the Eden Fleet has marked us and may be actively searching for us it is time to put one of those missions into play.”

  Alice activated the main hologram projector from the slim black podium and the air in the center of the Mission Theatre was filled with the image of an armoured satellite pitted with energy emitters. “This is a Regent Galactic hypertransmitter equipped with thirty five micro wormhole generating emitter systems. Through intelligence acquired by Chief Frost and later verified by our intelligence team we know its exact location second by second. Theft of this device will give us the parts we need to rebuild our own emitter systems, the ability to retrieve Captain Valance and potentially codes to Regent Galactic's secure communications network. We will also be severely damaging their ability to effectively communicate for light years in all directions for weeks, months if we're lucky. Triton will not only steal this critical technology, but we'll take credit for it, broadcasting a call to arms to every corner of this sector and beyond using their own hypertransmitter. This was included in the original mission plan and I concur. It's important that Captain Jacob Valance's mission to inspire others by example continues.

  Having said that, the fact that we have good intelligence and the best of intentions doesn't mean that this will be easy. The Regent Galactic Karaikal Shipyards are within striking distance of the hypertransmitter. The Twenty Third Fleet also has several destroyers on patrol. They're not the destroyers that we encountered in the Enreega system either. These are Regent Galactic Long Range Encounter Class ships,” she said as she switched the holographic view to display a full exterior schematic of the snub nosed vessel. Its squared central hull played host to four thick pylons that protruded for half its length at all sides. Each of the thick appendages had round, pitted beam emitters and double cannon turrets. “They're high energy, high speed destroyers with sixteen long range particle beam emitters, forty two paired gauss cannons and eight torpedo ports. Its compliment of weaponry is almost as impressive as its heavy energy shielding and hull plating. They're not as hard or resilient as the Triton and they're a sixth her mass, but in the Bhutan system they patrol in groups of three. Some of these patrols include a Suppressor Class Carrier.” As she spoke the image of the three tiered ship appeared. It looked like a jagged group of misaligned triangles layered atop each other.

  Captain Valent went on. Her hand unconsciously adjusting her eye patch before she jerked it away as though suddenly realizing that she was fidgeting. “These each carry a squadron of fighters, gunships, boarding vessels and heavier mission ready craft. They are not as heavily armed as their escorts and their shielding is made to repel long range attacks so we'd have them in no time if we were to get close, but they can launch as many fighters at a time as we can and most likely operate with better efficiency since the crews are most likely more seasoned and better trained than any of you. Our fighters are more powerful then theirs, better armed, but we will be outnumbered at least five to one if one of those carriers is in range. If we get lucky and we only see three destroyers, our fighters will be outnumbered three to one.”

  The holographic display changed to a view of the satellite in orbit around a terraformed moon. The dark side glimmered with the lights of several cities and the traffic linking them. “The hypertransmitter is in a high orbit around the Asom moon. Most vessels stay away from it in case it has to generate an emergency departure wormhole for nearby ships. As most of you know such a wormhole appearing in the middle of an object would rip it apart so we're not going to risk the Triton by entering its effective range. The satellite is unmanned and armed only with its wormhole emitters, which are enough to cause a major problem considering it can generate several hundred micro wormholes per second. Triton will arrive at a range of ninety kilometres from the satellite, between it and the moon. The Samson will pick it up after disabling it. The Triton will be blocking defensive craft from interfering, repelling planetary weapons fire and shielding our smaller mission vessels while they defend us from anything else coming our way. Our main rail cannon batteries will be facing away from the moon, so you fighter pilots won't be without support. After the Samson has docked with the satellite we will enter hyperspace and rendezvous not far from the Bhutan system so we can pick up our fighters and get underway. More details including who you will be responsible for during this mission will be provided to you by your Chiefs and Commanders.

  Before you all break up into briefing rooms I'd like to give all of you one last chance to wash out. After this you're on the hook and you'll be at the very least stuck on the ship while we take this mission on. If you speak up now there's an emergency shuttle with your name on it and you can take your chances on a nearby neutral system.”

  Everyone's heads turned as three pilots near the rear of the auditorium stood and quietly left the room. They had arrived together and been chattering loudly before the Captain began the briefing and not many of the onlookers were surprised.

  Alice gave the crowd a moment longer and nodded before going on. “We're in it now,” she grinned. “Triton!”

  “Deploy! Dominate! Disappear!” The sound of the reply was deafening.

  “Finally, we're going to do some damage,” Angela grinned at Finn.

  He watched Chief Grady stand and start making his
way over to them and the rest of the high ranking maintenance and engineering crew. His expression was almost grave. “Tearing the center out of their communications network will be a serious blow but I get the feeling we'll have our work cut out for us.”

  The Hunted

  “Three different encounters, six dead, twenty two casualties, not to mention all the inoperable bots he left behind,” reported the weary Sergeant. Her armour was scarred by close combat with one of the worst of the resistance, Alaka. The two and a half meter tall monster who wore half a ton of armour, carried a weapon made for a medium or heavy sized starfighter, and was caught flat footed just the day before, his ammunition expended. Sergeant Fiona Durges' squad was jumped while the unit was searching for him and his rebels.

  He came from above, nearly tearing her entire squad to shreds with his big claws. It was a distraction. His men got away, he killed half her squad, the rest, including her were maimed. After that he got away. She watched him climb down the side of a building and leap across to a rooftop eight storeys down. Then he was gone.

  That wasn't who she was tracking, the one who seemed to take what they were doing in Damshir personally. She ran her gloved hand over the deep claw marks across the breastplate of her armour as she considered the new monster. This one was different, he was quieter, practically waited until he was within a few centimetres until he disabled or killed you. All she had seen was his handiwork, the disembodied corpses. He attacked with his hands and some kind of super sharp, resilient blade.

  “How, why,” her commander asked plainly as he looked over a diagram that detailed troop movements for the morning.

  “Some cut to pieces, others shot up using their own rifles. A lot of them were taken out of action with improvised EMP and concussion grenades.”

  “He couldn't rely on being able to rely on our weaponry because he couldn't drag whoever owned it around behind him to keep disabling the biometric safety so he used the parts to make explosives.”

  “The first two attacks started when he got close enough to them to hold their hands on their weapons and force them to pull their own triggers.”

  “Did you get any footage of him from their headsets?”

  “I downloaded everything I could. Some was too badly damaged.”

  “So, why?”

  “Well, that's the easy part to figure on. Two of his targets were containment centers.”

  “He likes to free slaves. How many got away?”

  “Two hundred or so in the first site, over eleven hundred from the second. He took out the bots managing them with an EMP bomb and the prisoners did the rest, overtaking our men. I wanted to interfere but I was alone as per your orders.”

  “Exactly. We can't spare the manpower to get him surrounded so we have to keep our eyes open. What about the other outpost?”

  “A conflict was ongoing with the resistance and he managed to take a heavy weapons team from behind. It turned the tide and the rebels probably didn't even know he was there since he was six rooftops away. The bots there were overtaken by an EMP grenade made of five energy clips and this,” she tossed the head of a doll onto the badly used display table. The circuitry was visible through the breaks in its face, fused and charred.

  “Improvised detonator. He has a sense of humour.”

  “I couldn't keep up. At best I was twenty minutes behind any of the major instances. He's taken other soldiers and bots out. If he can't go around them to wherever he's going he disables or destroys them. I would be remiss if I didn't take this opportunity to insist we send at least three squads after him. The cost in manpower and equipment is too high.”

  “Like I said, we don't have the manpower and my request to assign specialists to his apprehension has been denied.”

  “Sir-”

  “Denied twice. The issue is dead. I suggest you tune into the upper command channels and activate your decryption chip. I'm putting you back in command. You're rejoining the bulk of our forces and we're moving on mount Elbrus. We have intelligence that suggests that the shield protecting the holdouts will be coming down tomorrow.”

  She sighed and ran her hand down her face. The grime from the rotting, empty city and hot, dry air had coated her face even though she kept her armour sealed most of the time. She couldn't help but look around the improvised darkened command room. It was in the center of a high rise, several floors up from the lobby and it had already been under rebel attack once. The signs of that attack, broken tables, chairs, and holes melted in transparesteel windows were still all around. The attack had been repelled, but at a cost. The resistance fighters were ruthless, smart, organized and when they struck it happened fast. Victory wasn't always their goal, however. Striking hard, incurring a great cost upon allied forces and disappearing into the hollow buildings and tunnels under the streets was more common than any sustained attack. “Can I speak freely sir?”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Do we know anything about where this man is from? Who he works for? If the resistance gets his kind of training we'll all be in a lot of trouble.”

  Her Captain sat down hard in his rough chair. It was safe, they were surrounded by half a platoon. He still wore his helmet though, and his dark grey combat armour was always sealed. Captain Bourne looked over the holographic map hovering over the table while scrolling through assignment lists on the table surface. It was linked to the communications and intelligence unit built into his helmet. Every soldier was marked in blue, while the enemy was marked in green and unknowns were red silhouettes. Most of them were in shelters beneath the ground, or safe rooms deeply embedded in the core of the more well constructed buildings and households.

  “He's a hunter. From his direction I'd say he's headed towards the mountain, trying to find a way under the shield. He won't make it in time, the shield will be down and we'll have two regiments assuming control of the area by noon tomorrow.”

  “Sir, begging your pardon, but that doesn't make sense, sir.”

  “Oh? You have a better theory?”

  “Sir, maybe he's just a rogue andie, one of the police automations, sir.”

  “We have control of three hundred seventeen andies and none of them have gone rogue. In fact, they've taken the lead over some of the greener West Keeper soldiers when things are going south. No, this is no andie. Maybe this is one of their exceptional soldiers, trapped outside the shield, it could even be this Valance character that was reported in the area. There's no way to be sure unless we manage to catch or kill him when we take mount Elbrus. You're going to see some real combat tomorrow. We're taking the mountain shoulder to shoulder. Their strike and fade guerilla tactics won't be worth much.”

  “Yes sir. Who am I getting?”

  “Reinforcements from the Diplomat. Five squads of West Keepers with basic training, they're assembling across the street now in building two one eight.”

  “Sir, thank you sir.”

  “Don't thank me, just keep the greens in line. Here's a new command decryption chip, just in case yours is out of date.”

  Fiona took the three by one centimetre wide flat chip and slid it into the socket on the inside of her helmet. “Sir, cleanse the West in defence of the East, sir.”

  “That crap is for civilian cannon fodder and gullible sheep Sergeant, use them well.”

  “Sir, yes sir.” Fiona saluted before turning on her heel and starting out of the room.

  The few soldiers who remained from the first to land on Pandem were all being promoted. Everyone left from her squad had been given new squads from arriving reinforcements except for her.

  Seeing so many comrades and positions taken out by one person nagged at her, she still wanted to see him stripped, in jail, or at the business end of her rifle. Fiona shook her head. She had five hours to introduce herself to her new charges and get a little rest before they had to move.

  It would be good to get back to the fighting, and if she caught sight of the man she'd spent so much time tracking she'd send everyt
hing she had after him, orders be damned. She was tired, the way down the stairs and across the street seemed long and Fiona was thankful for the quiet of the stairwell as she turned to start downstairs.

  “So that's how you officers reset biometric security and stay tapped in to secure communications. Glad I decided to listen in on you and your CO,” a man whispered into her ear from behind as her helmet was grabbed out of the crook of her arm. Fiona's sidearm was half out of its holster when the long coated killer's boot planted firmly on her back and sent her flying down the stairs.

  It all happened too quickly. She brought one hand up to break her fall, the other was let go of her sidearm so she could try and control herself when she hit the wall and touched the floor on the landing but when she hit the wall her one hand sent her down the next flight of stairs head first.

  An incredibly intense pain flared at the base of her neck and shot up the back of her head as her face struck the concrete landing. He was there, standing at the top of the stairs in that familiar armoured black and crimson vacsuit. He was taking the command and clearance chip out of her helmet. She couldn't move her arms, her legs and everything was starting to seem very distant, faded.

  Jake knew he was surrounded, but finding out how the officers maintained communications over an encrypted network and getting access was the only way he could find a way through their lines. He pulled the three grenade belts he had collected from soldiers over the last twenty six hours and set them all for thirty seconds.

  Arming the first he tossed it into the command room down the hall. Arming the second he tossed it down the stairwell so it went well past the corpse on the landing. The third belt went outside, and he couldn't have been more amazed that the release mechanism actually worked. He'd never seen one like it, but when the belt of grenades was half way down to the milling crowd of West Keeper soldiers the simple spring mechanism activated and sent grenades flying in all directions.