by John Walker
“I’ve got three grenades left,” Jenks said. “We can use them to announce our presence and go in shooting.”
“Yeah, I’ve got four,” Walsh added.
“Okay.” Sander hummed. “We’re going to have to get in there, plant our bombs and get the hell out fast. When those grenades go off, any soldiers left in this place will be coming. Walsh will plant the bombs, we’ll watch the door then get out the way we came in. Got it?”
“Let’s make it happen.” Jenks said.
Sander went down first. Once they got down, the hatch was only a few feet away. Jenks stepped up and popped the seals. Walsh popped two grenades and Sander took two from Jenks’s belt. Once they acknowledged that they were ready, Jenks pulled the panel aside, giving them a clear line of fire.
The grenades went into the room, tapping the floor as they rolled toward the center of the area. Each marine took cover against the walls outside, waiting for the explosions. When they popped, the room shook followed by a number of screams. Jenks couldn’t tell if they were pain or surprise but it didn’t matter. They charged, guns blazing.
Their first few shots scattered against computer banks and terminals, causing sparks to fly in the air. Jenks took in the rest of the room. The core sat in the center of the room, a clear chamber full of some kind of red liquid. A fire burned off to the left and metal crackled to the right.
The devarans were scattered now, two standing near the core with one close enough to be an immediate threat. They focused their fire on him, firing into his head. As he stumbled backward, something burst from the back of his skull and he dropped dead.
Another knocked aside one of the computer terminals, dashing it with a massive forearm before charging forward. He swung his fist in a wide arc and barely caught Sander in the shoulder. The lieutenant stumbled away, falling to the floor and rolling onto his back. He continued to fire, giving Jenks the relief to know the man at least survived the attack.
They turned their attention to the raging juggernaut, blasting him until their weapons ran empty. Jenks fell back as he reloaded, calling out that he was doing it just as Walsh did the same. There was no taking cover as the monster continued after them, dark wounds decorating its trunk like torso.
As it continued forward, it came close to Sander but didn’t bother to look down. The lieutenant pressed his gun between its legs and held the trigger down. The alien stumbled, hitting the wall hard before collapsing to its side. Blood burst from its mouth, staining the floor with the vile goo.
Walsh cried out as he was grabbed from behind and thrown across the room. He disappeared behind several banks of technology, crashing into the wall. Jenks dropped a grenade and dove for cover, calling out, “fire in the hole!” He saw Sander roll aside out of the corner of his eye just as the explosion went off.
The devaran screamed, another terrifying sound that rocked the area but it hit the ground, shrapnel tearing through the flesh on its face. With only one left, Jenks reclaimed his feet and hurried over to Sander, helping the man to stand. They went back to back, moving so they could get to Walsh.
As they rounded the corner, they saw the enemy standing over their companion, lifting both arms in the air to crush him. They lifted their rifles, firing controlled bursts so they could maintain some reasonable aim. The first few shots went through the thing’s neck. The rest took its head and arms, knocking it against the wall where it collapsed and slid down.
“Walsh!” Jenks shouted, rushing to his side. “Hey! Are you okay?” As he dropped to his knees, he saw the damage that had been done to his friend. While they may have stopped the alien from hitting him a second time, it was clear he took a blow before they got to him. Combined with being tossed through the air, and the man was in bad shape.
“Shit!” Sander knelt beside him. “Jenks, we need to get the explosives and plant them. Now!”
“Sir, we need to stabilize him.”
“I’ll work on him,” Sander said. “Get the bombs and go or this is all for nothing!”
Jenks didn’t hesitate but he sure as hell cursed while taking the bombs from his friend’s ailing body. He moved away, checking them over to ensure they weren’t damaged during the fight. One of the timers seemed to be dislodged and he put it back into place, running a quick diagnostic on it with his computer.
When it came back green, he hurried over to the cylinder with red goo and scanned for the hard points, the places where the explosives would do the most good. There were five in total and each one carried enough firepower to annihilate a shuttle craft. All together, they should be enough to put a hole in the station itself.
Jenks had two left when Sander called out to him in the com. “As suspected, we’re about to have company. Are you good?”
“Almost,” Jenks said. “Two left. I’ll be done in just a couple seconds.”
“Make it as fast as you can,” Sander replied. “I’ll hold them off as long as I can.”
“How’s Walsh?”
“Focus, Sergeant!” Sander barked. “You have an order now get it done!”
Gunfire sounded back where his companions were and Jenks forced himself to stick to the task at hand, not answering the call to arms to help out. As he placed the last charge, he heard another explosion, two grenades at least. Jenks tapped the final buttons, turning the combined timer on. All he had to do was engage it with his computer.
“Sander, they’re all set!” Jenks rushed over to his companions and paused. Blood decorated the walls, covering everything. The body of one of the devaran soldiers sat in two pieces beside the door. He found Walsh dead, his broken body expired from his wounds. Sander sat against the wall nearby, still breathing. “Lieutenant?”
“Did you…Did I hear you say the bombs are set?”
“They’re good to go,” Jenks said. “Can you walk? What happened?”
“Two of them came in,” Sander replied. “Walsh tossed the grenades…I followed suit but got knocked aside…again. God damn bastards!”
“Can you walk?” Jenks shouted the words, going for military discipline where compassion failed.
“I…don’t know.”
“We’re going to try!” Jenks scanned him to ensure he wouldn’t kill the man by picking him up. He had multiple breaks but he could be transported. Jenks hoisted him up into a fireman’s carry and hurried for the hatch, the way they’d come in. Getting him up the ladder would be a challenge but he didn’t have a choice but to try.
Behind him, he heard someone enter the room, a number of enemy soldiers possibly. Shit! Jenks realized they might disarm the bombs and if they did, all their work would count for nothing. He didn’t have any grenades left and was low on ammunition. What do I do? I don’t think Sander’s in a position to offer an opinion.
“Lieutenant…they’re…”
“I know…” Sander interrupted. “Detonate.”
“Are you…are you sure?”
“It’s what we’ve got.” Sander coughed. “Put me down. I’ll climb the ladder myself. Only one arms busted. We’ll do what we can. If we don’t get back…well…we’ll have done what we had to do.”
“If those bombs go off with us down here, there’s no reason to climb the ladder.”
“Then I guess you just made up our minds, huh?”
Jenks scowled at the computer on his arm, considering all the options. Nothing came to mind and instead, he found himself back at the unwinnable scenario…the ultimate sacrifice. Could he buy them any chance at all? He ran a scan of the area. Maybe we can jettison into space and pray…but would suffocating out there be preferable to a quick death in here?
He glanced back to where Walsh’s body rested, thinking briefly of the time they’d spent together. The missions…the recreation…all the way back to their training on Earth. His friends, relatives, comrades…all flashed before his eyes as he brought up the button that would seal their fate and conclude the mission.
His heart hammered in his chest and he closed his eyes while pres
sing down on the screen. A subtle beep sounded his end as massive explosions enveloped the core and breached the container. A chain reaction would go throughout the facility, ending it all. A moment passed before a sharp pain hit him from behind then ended in an instant.
Chapter 10
Estaban hadn’t flown such a high impact mission in years. Despite the severity of the situation and everything that was at stake, he found himself thrilled at the chance to get out there. Sitting behind the controls of a fighter was the best place he could be in the final battle of a decades long intergalactic war.
A final hoorah for a lengthy career.
Indeed, he’d been involved in hundreds of missions before boarding The Behemoth as Group Commander. Watching his people get the job done always stirred up his desire to get back out there, to be part of the action rather than watch it from the sidelines. When Gretchen proved to be too injured to lead her wing, he quickly took up the mantel.
And didn’t regret a moment of it.
The thrill of battle hadn’t changed and he embraced it as an old friend. Once he got the hang of the controls on the newer fighter, he fell right back into his ways and more so. The new inertial dampeners gave him far more freedom than he was accustomed to and he had to allow himself to slip away from the conservative maneuvers he relegated himself to.
His first brawl with an enemy ship came shortly after they engaged. He dove to avoid an attack then flipped around as the bastard tried to ram him. Their opening tactic seemed to be suicidal as they tried to wipe out as many of the alliance forces as possible right away. Estaban got around behind the guy, allowing his computer a moment to grab tone.
The first time Estaban pulled the trigger, he was surprised by how much heat filled the cockpit. Both pulse cannons really pumped it out, so much so he immediately began to sweat. As his attack tore through his target’s defenses, it exploded in a spectacular fashion, turning into an orange-red ball.
Climbing to avoid the debris, he immediately found himself in another dogfight and another. The reserve of targets seemed inexhaustible but pure adrenaline kept him going. He felt like he could’ve fought through three shifts. Deep down, he recognized this would be his last combat mission and he relished every second.
Estaban noticed when Meagan left Mick in charge of Panther to go chasing some quarry. He didn’t say anything and Giant Control seemed content to let the pilots carry on as they needed to. When she came back and asked him to stay behind while they rushed to the capital ships, he didn’t mind. They had the upper hand and it made sense to clean up the mess.
His people, along with several kielan flyers, had it under control and as they whittled down the enemy numbers, they found themselves rapidly approaching a decisive victory. None of the Tiger Wing pilots were significantly damaged and only three kielan ships were taken out. They’d done incredible work against a desperate foe.
The last five enemy ships went into an absolute frenzy, flying erratically and firing seemingly at random. Estaban ordered his people to give them some distance, taking shots from afar. It would be hard to anticipate their motions, hard to evade. His scanners showed that at least one of them was on overload.
Is that guy trying to kill himself? Estaban’s eyes widened. He’s overloading his core so he can take us out with him. Great.
“Everyone fallback, give that guy a lot of room!” Estaban flipped his ship around and gunned the throttle.
Power cores on all small ships were shielded in such a way that they wouldn’t explode on impact with enemy fire. There were exceptions but they seemed rare. The idea was that no one wanted their fighters taking out two or three of their buddies if they got shot down. The only real way for them to overload was for someone to initiate the sequence manually.
Estaban had been doing his job long enough to see all kinds of things happen with damaged vessels. Everything from total meltdowns to horrifying destruction, once he’d seen a few ships go down, he started a tally for just how bad they’d been from time to time. Their own ships rarely lost their power cores like this. In fact, search and rescue tended to recover them.
They were the most expensive part of the ship beside the pilot.
One enemy set his ship to explode and the other four began to chase the alliance ships as they fled the area. Aha, that was their plan. Get us running so they could take shots at our backsides. Clever enough, I suppose. But we still have maneuverability. When we’re clear of the blast radius, those guys are done.
Minimum safe distance was far enough away that they needed afterburners to get there but once they escaped that zone, they were free to take care of their pursuers. Estaban told his people to give them a little more room before trying anything for fear that someone might end up at the tale end of the initial burst.
Someone fired at him, striking his shields just as he banked hard to the left. An alarm went off in the ship, indicating rear defenses were down to only ten percent. He reinforced them while seeking a firing solution, initiating a barrel roll before turning sharply toward his opponent. The enemy ship fired again but this time, Estaban was ready.
He dipped below the attack and angled himself to throw some ordinance back. He missed but only barely as his initial shots skimmed the enemy shields. This caused his target to climb and that’s when he had him. Estaban turned sharply, causing the inertial dampeners to whine. His body suffered for it but the feeling passed and he was directly behind is quarry.
Computer got tone and he fired, holding down the trigger until the sky in front of him was alight with purple blasts. The attack tore through the enemy defenses and annihilated it. He dipped below the explosion and looked around for the next ship. The next few moments proved to be wild.
The core exploded on the enemy ship, leaving behind a blinding white blast off to the left. Estaban turned away to save his eyes and in that second, the computer let off a proximity alert. Instinct kicked in and he jammed the throttle forward, climbing at the same time. If he didn’t hit anything, it would be pure luck.
His scanner indicated that he was pulling away from the threat but he didn’t slow down, trying to buy himself some distance before trying to engage. A series of pulse blasts nearly connected with his rear and he tilted to the left, flying between the attacks. They narrowly missed and when they eased up, he climbed and hit the afterburners, pulling away.
The enemy attacked again, this time skimming his shields. They flared up, interfering with his visibility. As he spun, trying to dislodge them, the dogfight continued and became more intense. No matter what maneuver he attempted, he could not break away from his opponent. Their anticipation was uncanny.
The proximity alert went off again, this time because one of his own pilots was flying straight toward him. They streaked by at barley seventy meters, firing their weapons as they went. Estaban’s pursuer exploded, granting him some breathing room to stabilize and get his bearings.
“Thanks,” Estaban said. “I appreciate the save.”
“No problem, Group Commander,” Tiger Three, Lieutenant Anthony Bell, replied. “We seem to have wrapped them up, sir. Giant Control has asked all fighters to take on the gunships. Should we head over there?”
“Damn right,” Estaban said. “Form up on me and we’ll see what we can do.” The flight over there will give my heart a chance to slow down and my uniform a chance to soak up some of this sweat. I wanted the excitement but this is ridiculous.
***
Meagan sighed as the order came in. The gunships returned and they caused some pretty heavy damage on The Behemoth. Checking her scanner, she noted they were close enough to make a good run at them again. However, she wasn’t confident that they would do any better than the last time.
She brought Mick and Alma up on a private com. Though they were close to the massive capital ship war going on outside, they weren’t quite engaged yet. This gave them the advantage to be able to attack those gunships without having to break away from a fight with the lesser ships.
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Lesser ships. Earlier today they were considered pretty nasty customers and now, we’ve got the next level. Thank God they only broke them out now.
“Alright, folks. Alma probably got the bad news from The Font but Giant Control just told me we’ve got those damn gunships causing trouble. They hit The Behemoth hard so we need to get in there and take them out.”
“Just like that?” Mick asked. He chuckled. “Sounds easy enough considering how well you all did.”
“Rahan made it back to The Font,” Alma said. “So I’m willing to believe the Fates are on our side for this one. The trick is coordinated fire. Two on one. If we can manage that, then we can win that fight.”
“I like your confidence,” Meagan replied. “I’m looking at the scanner and we can be on them in less than thirty seconds with full burn. Any objections?”
“How many are there?” Mick asked.
“Hm, looks like they’ve got their ranks up to five total.”
“More than when we went after them before,” Alma added.
“Between Panther and your wing, we should have serious number advantage.” Meagan brought the rest of the team into the channel. “We’re going after these powerful gunships, guys. I want you to team up on them. Three on one when possible. Hit them with everything you’ve got. Hold absolutely nothing back. Believe me, these things are tough.
“They have automated defenses, powerful shields and armor thick enough to take a couple pulse blasts. Keep your shields tight, your maneuvers unpredictable and don’t miss. Everyone ready?”
A round of affirmative came through and Meagan set a course for their targets, transmitting the waypoint to the others. As she engaged her afterburners, she mentally prepared herself for another round with technology superior to theirs. They were like flying destroyers when it came to their weapons and she didn’t look forward to the fight ahead.
