Cold Planet: A Gateway Universe Story

by Brian Dorsey

  One of fighters banked sharply and spun back toward Draxius.

  “Damn it,” grumbled Martin as she turned off the transport’s defensive systems.

  “What are you doing?” asked Jackson.

  “They’re gonna pick us up on their sensors if we have our systems up. If they see any significant electronics from us, we’ll be sitting ducks for those fighters. We need to get clear of the battle without any of those fighter or attack craft picking us up.”

  “What’s the plan?”

  “Kill everything,” she replied. “Everyone go on air,” she ordered into the intercom as she reached for her own mask. Grasping the mask, she placed her chin into the face-piece and pulled the straps over her head. “Securing NAVSYS,” she mumbled through her mask as she again leaned over Jackson’s lap to secure the navigational panel. “Gravity,” she added as she flipped the toggle and instantly felt a floating feeling in her stomach. “Air.” She heard the ship’s ventilation fans begin to wind down and felt the increased flow of air through her mask. “The reactor…they’ll pick that up.” Scanning the panel to her right, she found a button marked SCRAM ORDER. She flipped the cover from the button and depressed it. Looking to an operating screen attached to the order she then pushed the CONFIRM ACTION button. Multiple warning lights illuminated as the reactor startup was aborted.

  “Now for the tricky part,” she said as she quickly increased the thrust to push the transport through the barrier and then instantly hit the EMERGENCY STOP toggles for both engines. The transport instantly dropped toward the deck but the pull of the vacuum took hold and accelerated the ship toward space. With the ventilation and engines secured, an eerie silence came over the transport; the only sound Martin heard was the flow of air through her mask. “Hopefully they’ll think we’re—Shit!” she cursed as the Terillian fighter rolled and headed straight for them. “They got us?”

  “What are we gonna do?” asked Jackson.

  “Die.” Martin inhaled heavily as she saw the fighter grow larger in the window of the cockpit. She ensured the engines and defensive systems were re-energized but it wouldn’t do much good; the fighter had them.

  “We’ll at least we tried,” conceded Jackson.

  Jackson hit the AIR button and pulled her mask off. “Screw that,” replied Martin with a flash of clarity that comes only with the reality of one’s impending death. “I’m taking that son of bitch with us,” she added as she pushed the shuttle forward and began to accelerate.

  As the COLLISION IMMINENT alarm wailed, Martin focused her squinted eyes on the Terillian fighter. Odds were it would blow them apart before she could ram it, but maybe some debris would destroy it or at least take it out of the fight. Her thoughts went to that of her father as he received the word of her death. ‘Did she die well?’ she envisioned him asking the reporting officer.

  “I will,” she said aloud.

  “Wha—”Jackson’s question was cut short by the sight of the Terillian fighter shredded in a hail of metal fragments.

  Draxius’ gunners had given up some of their own protective fire to save them.

  “Shit,” replied Jackson.

  “That Tactical Officer should receive a Senatorial Medal of Honor,” declared Martin.

  “Now what?”

  Martin pulled hard on the controls, turning the shuttle in the opposite direction and again shutting down the defenses. “Shut it all down, just like before. We gotta look like just another dead ship or another fighter will blow us apart.”

  “Engines too? How will you control the transport?” asked Jackson, quickly pulling the air mask over his face.

  “I won’t for a while. Hopefully that will allow us to get clear of that corvette. If we don’t hit it or anything else first.”

  Martin could see the anxious look on Jackson’s face. She’d never seen him look nervous before. Her own heart began to race as a result of his apprehension. “We have to,” she continued.

  “Look at their main battery,” said Jackson, pointing toward the enemy corvette.

  Martin saw the space immediately in front of the corvette’s main gun begin to sparkle with blue flashes of light. The flashes grew in size and volume until a massive cauldron of superheated, magnetized metals formed into a pulsating ball. Suddenly the ball turned white-hot and shot across the darkness of space toward Draxius. Just as the ball of metallic death passed out of view from the transport’s window, Martin saw another streaking toward the corvette. “Draxius is returning fire,” she declared.

  She let out a small grunt of satisfaction as the ball of molten metal from Draxius’ main gun slammed into the Terillian corvette, the white-hot metal flashing to blue and then yellow against the hull of the enemy’s ship. As the flash of light subsided, she could see the charred outer shell of the ship where the round impacted. At the center of the impact area, a bright red glow pulsated through a hole in the hull. “Another breach!” shouted Martin proudly. “Get ‘em Draxius!”

  “Their getting ready to fire again,” said Jackson as Martin saw the blue flashes forming around the Terillian’s main gun.

  The boiling mass of metal was turning from blue to white as another round from Draxius tore into the forming mass of molten metal. As it did, Martin’s entire view erupted in a flash of brilliant white light as the round from Draxius combined with the building energy of the corvette’s main battery in a massive explosion of metal and heat. “Son of a bitch,” she declared as the flash dissipated to show the corvette torn in two.

  “One down,” added Jackson.

  “But there’s another corvette and a sloop left,” replied Martin as she saw the two Terillian ship’s appear behind the wreckage of the first corvette.”

  “Can we turn our systems on yet?” asked Jackson.

  “Not yet,” replied Martin. “We need to drift further away so that we’ll have a head start on them if they—”

  “They’re firing,” interrupted Jackson as the Terillian ships’ main guns began to ionize the metals around them.

  “There’s Draxius,” added Martin as she saw the crippled ship come into view through the window. “She’s headed straight toward them!” As the transport drifted further away from the battle, Martin continued to watch anxiously as Draxius turned toward the enemy ships.

  “They’re accelerating,” said Jackson.

  “They’re sacrificing the power to their guns for speed,” added Martin. Awestruck, she watched the two enemy vessels maneuver to fire on Draxius from both sides.

  “They’re not going to need guns,” concluded Jackson as Draxius absorbed a round from the Terillian sloop and turned sharply toward the corvette.

  “No fucking wa—” Martin paused as Draxius slammed into the Terillian corvette amidships. The Humani frigate drove through the corvette, the bow protruding through the opposite side before Martin’s entire view was again obscured by a massive explosion. “Remind me to never talk shit about those fleet guys again,” she said, acknowledging the sacrifice of the Draxius crew.

  “Now what?”

  “Damn it,” declared Martin as she realized she was wasting valuable seconds. “This is our chance,” she added as she reached across Jackson and powered up the NAVSYS panel. “Air and gravity,” she continued as she activated those systems. Seeing the AIR QUALITY light turn green, she pulled the mask from her face and activated the intercom. “Everyone can remove your masks and hold on…it might get bumpy.”

  Next Martin activated the reactor startup sequence. “Shit,” she grumbled, noticing the CONTROL FAULT light was illuminated and MANUAL STARTUP REQUIRED light flashing. “Won’t need it to land anyway,” she declared as she energized the transport’s emergency power. “Defensive systems….good….and engines…start.” Martin heard the hum of the engines increase and gripped the transport’s controls. “Here we go,” she said, pushing the throttle forward and turning the transport sharply away from the battlefield.

  “There it is,” said Martin with a smile as the NAVS
YS flashed the trajectory toward Golf 2 and the planet came into view. She increased the engines’ thrust to accelerate the ship.

  “How long?” asked Jackson.

  Martin looked toward the NAVSYS interface on the pilot’s main display, “about fifteen minutes.”

  “That was intense,” said Jackson. “Draxius’ crew died like true warriors.”

  “I didn’t see a single escape pod,” added Martin. “They all stayed with their ship…” She stopped and looked back in the direction of the troop compartment. “…that is except our precious cargo, Lieutenant Varus,” she griped.

  Chapter 5

  Martin quickly shifted her focus from the ground to her panels and back as she placed the transport in a hover a few meters of the ground. She knew landing was much harder than flying but didn’t want to show her nervousness.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Jackson.

  “Nothing. I’m just lining—”

  A waling alarm sounded. Martin saw the ENEMY IN RANGE and FIRE CONTROL LOCK alarms flashing but before she could react, the transport rocked forward and to the left before slamming into the ground. Martin inhaled deeply in an attempt to regain the air forced from her lungs by the impact.

  “What the hell did you do?” huffed Jackson.

  “It wasn’t me,” grunted Martin as she looked over her panels and started silencing multiple status alarms. “We just took a hit.” The GROUND PROXIMITY light was flashing red. The FIRE AFT alarm was locked in. AFT THRUST warning light was lit. “Shit!” she shouted as the FIRE CONTROL LOCK and ENEMY IN RANGE began flashing again. She turned to Jackson. “We need to get out of here,” she declared as she activated the intercom. “We’ve got incoming Ter aircraft, everyone evacuate now!”

  Martin quickly unlatched herself from the seat, grabbed her rifle, and slung it over her shoulder. In a matter of seconds, she and Jackson were in the troop compartment.

  “Everyone grab the environmental gear!” shouted Jackson.

  In a flash, everything erupted in a sea of chaos as the heavy metal rounds from a Terillian attack ship tore through the troop compartment. Martin fell to the deck and curled her body into a ball as the rounds sliced through the transport.

  Lying on the deck, she heard the roar of the enemy ship as it streaked overhead.

  Martin sprung to her feet and scanned the wrecked compartment. At least five lay dead among the wreckage. She saw Corporal Ibri and Privates Carl and Taylor from her platoon. Above Ibri stood Daemon. The Humani war dog pawed at Ibri’s chest and let out a small whimper.

  Martin reached down to grab the dog’s collar but paused when the Daemon looked up and snarled deeply, showing its razor sharp teeth. The animal’s hair bristled and she could see its eyes lock onto her. “Shit. Imprint,” she said aloud, remembering Humani war dogs were installed with a chip that imprints them primarily to one handler and then secondary to the unit. She realized Ibris must still have a faint heartbeat for Daemon to not reset to platoon direction. “Daemon 867. Imprint override code 549, new handler Martin, Emily…” she paused at the dread of saying her middle name aloud. “…Dalia,” she said as quietly as she could, “Codeword Praetorian.”

  The dog instantly sat and Martin presented her hand for Daemon to verify her scent.

  She felt the dog’s wet nose against the back of her hand followed by a bark to acknowledge the transfer of handlers. “Good boy,” she said. “Stay,” she added as she looked toward the back of the compartment. Just beyond Daemon lay the torn body of Lieutenant Cresius. “Damn it,” she grumbled as she looked for Sergeant Yates. “Yates!”

  “Yes, Ma’am,” came his answer.

  “Where are the TALONs?” she shouted.

  “Over here!” replied Yates as he rushed toward an overturned cargo box.

  “Where’s Cresius?” shouted Jackson across the compartment.

  “He’s down,” replied Martin. “If you help get the men out, I’ll get the TALONs.”

  “Do it,” ordered Jackson.

  Martin quickly joined Yates by the toppled cargo case. She reached down and shook the lock vigorously. “Who’s got the damn key?” she shouted. “Fuck it,” she continued as she raised her foot and slammed it into the lock, shattering the clasp. “There we go,” she declared, lifting the cover. Two TALON anti-aircraft weapons rolled onto the deck. “Yates,” she ordered, “Help the captain get the wounded off the ship and find cover.”

  As Yates sped off to help Jackson, Martin picked up a TALON launcher and pulled the safety lanyard to arm the warheads inside before sliding the weapon across her back. Her heart raced with urgency as she quickly armed the second launcher and headed toward the exit. “Daemon, free!” she shouted to allow the dog’s to act on its own before she rushed toward the access. Just as she reached the exit, Martin heard the percussive sound of automatic gunfire piercing the air. She glanced outside to see several Guardsmen firing toward the sky. Scanning to her right, she saw the Terillian attack ship flash overhead, releasing a pod of explosive bomblets. “Shit!” she cursed as she fell back into the access as the ground outside erupted in a series of explosions.

  Her ears ringing from the explosions, she sprang back to her feet and leapt from the transport. Martin’s feet sank to her knees in the muck and water of the swampy landscape. Scanning the terrain, she saw several Guardsmen killed or injured by the last attack. Others pulled themselves from the muddy swamp to prepare for the next run by the Alpha.

  “You okay?” she shouted to Jackson, who was pulling a badly wounded Private Yali from the watery surface.

  “I’m good,” answered Jackson. “Take that bastard out!”

  Martin nodded in acknowledgement and quickly examined the terrain for a good firing position. With the roaring engines of the Alpha overhead, she slogged her way toward a small copse of trees elevated a meter above the swampy terrain. Martin reached the clump of trees and tossed the first TALON onto the solid ground above.

  Next, she reached for a thick vine but quickly fell back into the water as the ground around her exploded in a wave of lead, mud, wood, and water as the gatlin guns from the Alpha laid open the ground above and around her. Debris hit her face, followed by the thick, cold mud falling to the ground. She felt pressure on her shoulder and turned to see Daemon nudging her to rise. The mist of water sent airborne from the explosions was still floating to the ground as she turned and grasped the vine again to pull herself onto the elevated mound.

  Reaching the top, Martin saw one of the three trees had been shot down by the Alpha’s guns and had fell forward into the swamp. “The TALON,” she said aloud, hurriedly looking for the weapon. “Damn it,” she declared as she saw the weapon, torn apart and half buried in the swamp five meters away. Letting out a frustrated grunt, she hastily slipped the remaining launcher from her back and activated the TALON’s search sensors. Shouldering the weapon, she scanned the sky and listened for the sound of the Alpha.

  Suddenly the Alpha’s engines went silent, warning Martin the enemy ship was going supersonic for another attack run. She looked through the targeting screen and saw the identifier for enemy aircraft illuminate. Not wanting to warn the Alpha of her presence by the TALON’s fire control sensors, she decided to wait until the last minute to activate the targeting system. In a few seconds, the Alpha appeared as a small dot on the horizon moving rapidly toward the downed transport. As soon she could make out the silhouette distinctively as an Alpha, she activated the fire control system.

  The system flashed red and she fired. She tensed her body against the force of the launch and the heat of the exhaust washed over her body as three warheads rocketed from the launcher. The warheads raced upward, spreading wide. The Alpha broke hard to the right and upward as the crew obviously picked up the TALON’s active targeting sensors. Next it went into a vertical climb, deploying electronic countermeasures.

  “Come on,” grumbled Martin. “Get ‘em,” she continued as she tried to will the warheads to their target.

 
Martin watched as the three rockets from the TALON spiraled upward toward the Alpha. Suddenly one exploded as it impacted a countermeasure. “Damn it,” cursed Martin as she focused on the two remaining warheads. The Alpha raced toward the upper atmosphere but the TALON’s warheads quickly closed the gap. The Alpha’s defensive weapons opened fire but the warheads had entered their terminal phase and began to spiral at several times the speed of sound.

  “Gotcha!” shouted Martin as the two warheads converged on the Alpha from opposite sides.

  They exploded simultaneously, enveloping the Terillian craft in a ball of fire, sending dozens of pieces flying in all directions from the center of the explosion.

  But she didn’t have time to celebrate her kill; she needed to get back to the transport. Jumping from the mound back into the knee-deep muck, she trudged the short distance to Jackson and the others.

  “Nice shot,” said Jackson as Martin reached the group.

  “Thanks,” she replied. “How much damage did it cause?”

  “He lit us up pretty good,” added Yates. “Nine dead—including Lieutenant Cresius—and six wounded.”

  “Damn it,” cursed Jackson. “How many of the wounded are serious?”

  “Doc Daniel and Cazmier are checking them out but most are still mobile.”

  “What are we going to do now?” came a voice to Martin’s left.

  Martin turned to see Lieutenant Sequentis Varus. She could tell he was shaken but trying hard to keep up the façade of First Family stoicism. ‘Why didn’t this guy die instead of Cresius,’ she thought to herself.

  “We need to get clear of this wreckage before another Terillian craft shows up,” answered Jackson. “Yates,” he continued, turning toward the sergeant. “Get with Sergeant Morgan and let’s move everyone and as much gear as we can about five kilometers to the West, it looks like there is a slight slope so hopefully they’ll be some dry ground.”

  “Yes, Sir,” replied Yates. “Morgan is hit but still in the fight. I’ll send Sergeant Boles with Incerna and Frederick to scout the path and we’ll start humping the gear and the wounded.”