A coolant conduit ruptured and sprayed boiling liquid over the man underneath it. The scream of pain was short-lived. Jack checked the Marine with his enhanced data view on his helmet. He was already dead.
“Coming down hard.” The pilot’s voice wavered with fear. “Lost pitch. Coming in nose-first. Five seconds to impact.”
Jack accessed the landing craft data stream and selected the forward view. He viewed it on the holoimage projection on the inside of his helmet. He wished he hadn’t. The craft was pitched forward at an angle of forty-five degrees, traveling forward at over a hundred kilometers per hour. The pilot had done well to slow the craft, but the old vehicle was still coming in too fast. The rear end was coming down by a few degrees, but the impact would still be heavy.
The nose struck the loose regolith of Brecon, a dry dusty covering littered with fist-sized rocks. The landing craft dug a deep furrow as it raced forward. The nose slowed. The rear end began to drop as the pilot threw all power to the thrusters, forcing the rear down.
The landing craft plowed through the pale Brecon soil, throwing dust into the moon’s thin atmosphere. The noise of rock scraping across the outer composite hull filled the passenger hold. And then came the sound of the outer hull tearing.
Several panels around the hold fell out of place as the hull was stretched and compressed by the collision. The entire hold seemed to twist and bend. More conduits ruptured, spraying fire and ice around the hold. A thin composite beam came bursting through the inner hull, impaling a Marine. Jack watched as the life signs failed.
The rear of the craft eventually hit the ground, and it hit hard, the thrusters driving it downwards to compensate for the loss of pitch control. The sudden downwards force pressed Jack into his seat and he felt his head press down onto his shoulders with sickening force. His spine compressed with the strength of the collision.
The landing craft stopped suddenly and threw everyone around in their seats. A strap failed on a Marine opposite Jack and he was flung along the hold. The crates of supplies along the central aisle slid forward, their restraining webbing failing in places. A crate ripped away from its webbing and slid suddenly to the side, crushing the legs of a Marine.
Jack accessed the landing craft data. The ship was down. The cockpit had been crushed in the landing. The pilot was not responding. A fire had started in the engine assembly. Jack knew he had only moments to clear the craft.
“Squad Leaders,” Jack said into his helmet communicator. “Emergency evacuation procedures. Evacuate your squads. Clear the area.”
Jack looked over to the wide boarding ramp. It was twisted and the seal was broken, but the ramp was still in the closed position. The squad leader of first squad was at the controls.
“Commander, the ramp is not responding.”
“Blow it,” Jack said, un-strapping himself from his seat. “Set charge for a low yield.”
A Marine from 1st with a handy demolition charge came forward and pressed the material into the pneumatic ram. He fell back, shouting.
“Fire in the hole.”
The detonation was a short and powerful bump. The pneumatic ramp snapped under the force of the explosive like a dry twig. The boarding ramp fell open, hitting the dry regolith and throwing more dust up into the thin air.
Cobra Company streamed out of the wreckage as the fire suppression system activated and a mist of fire suppression vapor filled the passenger hold. Then the engines erupted.
The fire spread along the hold, engulfing the Marines waiting to escape. Jack saw the fire race toward him, boiling and bubbling, raw fire in the air. His suit activated its coolant systems just as the fire washed over him.
The temperature in the hold peaked in a fraction of a second. Jack’s suit temperature crept up slowly. He didn’t have a lot of time until the fire overcame his suit’s protection and became fatal.
Jack move toward the open boarding ramp, herding Marines in front of him until he was out of the fire and into the freezing air of Brecon. Various warning signs on his enhanced data overlay called for his attention. He had suffered a contusion to his entire left side where he’d been pressed forward by the impact of the crash. He had a sprain in his left wrist and left ankle. He was suffering from a mild concussion. His suit’s thermal regulation systems were scrambled but rebooting, and his on-board medical treatment package was offline.
Jack staggered forward, determined to get away from the burning ship. A Marine came along side and pulled Jack’s arm over his shoulder, taking some of Jack’s weight and helping him move. Jack continued for another fifty meters.
“Stop. Stop.” Jack turned and looked back to the burning craft. No more Marines were escaping from it. And then, in a silent and brilliant white flash, the engines erupted, throwing burning composite into the cold Brecon air.
The company casualty report came into Jack’s suit. Thirteen Marines and the pilot were dead or unaccounted for. Another twenty lay wounded around the crash site, some having narrowly escaped, three miraculously having been flung clear through a breach in the upper hull. All were lying in the Brecon dust awaiting assistance.
Jack ran a quick head count by squads. The casualties were concentrated in the higher number squads, the ones that had been sitting closer to the nose section of the landing craft.
“Listen up, Cobra,” Jack sent a message over the suit’s communicator. “Head for the planetary defense cannon facility. Sixth Squad, assist the wounded.”
Jack turned toward the defense cannon in the distance. It was massive, truly monumental. The cannon itself had a muzzle a hundred meters across. It appeared squat at only two hundred meters tall. The surrounding facility was a vast square building. It was pale like the surrounding surface. They had to defend this cannon at any cost, and his company had already taken casualties before the first shot was even fired.
He began limping forward, the sprain on his left ankle making movement painful. He checked his suit’s medical treatment package. It was rebooting but still not able to deliver a painkiller. The Marine who had helped Jack offered his help again.
“Let me help you, sir,” he said.
Jack looked over to the Marine. The data overlay identified him as Corry Allen, the squad leader of 3rd squad. He was a tough Marine with a reputation for fitness and strength. Jack let the kid take some weight.
When healthy, Jack could have made it to the distant facility in no time. The sprain in his ankle hurt, but the frustration was harder to tolerate. He tried to remain calm and struggled forward, but time was a factor. He needed to organize his company and organize the defense.
3
The holostage on the Scorpio’s command deck showed the landing craft’s crash in detail. Major Griff zoomed in on the crash site. Marines were moving out from the craft. Griff requested a head count from the Scorpio’s uplink to the Marines’ meat suits.
Pretorius saw the readout displayed under the holoimage of the burning landing craft. He looked over at Griff.
“Acceptable losses,” Griff said. “Cobra Company will continue on mission and deploy at the northern planetary defense cannon.”
Pretorius nodded. He observed Griff closely. He was an experienced Marin but was still newly appointed to command the entire battalion. Pretorius watched for any sign that Griff was not adapting to his new, expanded responsibilities as well as he should.
Even though Griff had complete authority over all three companies of the Scorpio’s Marine battalion—Adder, Boa and Cobra—Pretorius was in command of the Scorpio itself. If Pretorius suspected that Griff was not performing well enough, it would be his responsibility to act for the good of the ship.
Pretorius knew there was a task that Griff really needed to perform as a priority. Pretorius would do it himself if Griff didn’t act in the next few moments. He watched Griff, noticing the slight twitch in the major’s left eye lid. It could be fatigue, considering the major had been working flat out for several days preparing his company for deployment
, or it could be stress. Stress was a natural response and could be managed and dealt with, but it was more insidious than mere fatigue.
Pretorius could wait no longer. Griff needed to contact the company of the crashed landing craft and ascertain if the commander was among the dead or injured. Chain of command needed to be established quickly. Pretorius didn’t need to wait any longer as Commander Forge’s voice burst over the holostage communicator.
“Scorpio, this is Forge. Communication check.”
“Commander Forge,” Griff replied. His voice was steady. “Communications good. Go ahead.”
“Cobra Company has taken casualties in the landing. Landing craft suffered catastrophic failure. Cobra Company is on task and deploying now.”
Pretorius felt a sense of relief at the sound of Jack Forge’s voice. The young Marine was proving himself to be a reliable and effective commander. Pretorius had feared the battalion could have lost their front-line officer in the crash.
Griff activated the communicator and replied to Jack.
“Copy that, Commander. Proceed as planned.”
“Sir,” Jack’s voice came over the communicator. He was breathing hard. “We’ve lost all our supplies. We’ve got our personal weapons and any ammo we were carrying. We are not equipped for a prolonged deployment.”
Pretorius centered the holostage view on the communication signal coming from Jack’s communicator. The holostage showed the Marines as small, green points of light. Jack was highlighted as commander. He was moving across the moon’s surface directly to the cannon facility.
Pretorius saw Griff hesitate. The twitch in his eye seemed more pronounced.
“Proceed to your deployment area and await further instructions. Scorpio out.”
Pretorius zoomed the holostage view out from Cobra Company on the northern region of Brecon and shrank the view of the moon down to a fist-sized image at the center of the holostage. The fleet was retreating toward Eros, deep inside the defense perimeter.
The Scorpio was maneuvering into position behind Brecon. Pretorius had been on deployment across the Eros System, sometimes deep in Chitin space, but he had the feeling that he was now truly on the front line in an increasingly desperate fight for survival.
Pretorius rotated the view of Brecon on the holostage and placed the southern defense cannon on view. The deployment on the southern region was going smoothly, it appeared. Pretorius zoomed in. He glanced across to Griff.
Griff appeared to relax as he saw the deployment of Boa Company going according to plan. The company of Marines was entering the huge facility. The report from their commander came over the holostage communicator.
“Scorpio, this is Laidlaw. Boa Company deployment first stage complete. Moving supplies from the landing craft and setting up defenses now. Laidlaw out.”
Griff leaned on the holostage. He responded with a cool and quiet voice.
“Copy that, Boa. Scorpio out.”
Pretorius studied Griff. He could see the signs of the strain. They were all feeling the tension. They were all under pressure. Griff had been an exceptional company commander. He had been brave and heroic. His actions at the Battle of Lava Lake on Haydes had been developed into an oft-used VR training simulation for assault on a fixed Chitin position. He had saved the lives of many of the Marines of the Libra’s battalion at the Battle of Asteroid Nine-Nine-Three. He had fought across the asteroid belt, keeping his Marines alive and in the fight for weeks after the Libra had been lost to enemy fire.
But fatigue and stress were pernicious afflictions that had no respect for previous heroics. The battlefield could become overwhelming at any stage, and it could affect the fresh recruit or the most decorated officer. Pretorius was aware and alert to its dangers.
“Captain,” Griff said. His voice was relaxed and the twitch over his eye was gone for now. “I’d like to arrange a supply drop for Cobra Company. I know what they need. I will oversee the arrangements myself.”
Griff stepped away from the holostage. He looked at the view of Brecon, the outer moon of Eros, and hesitated.
A small blip appeared and then disappeared on the edge of the holostage, at the limit of the detector range. Pretorius was tapping the control panel and focusing all available sensors on the area.
The blip reappeared. Several other blips appeared, and then disappeared, then re-appeared. A flickering collection of signals on the edge of sensor range.
Then the signals appeared and remained stable. A group of a dozen ships moving toward Eros on a heading that would take them past Brecon and the Scorpio.
“Mister Chou,” Pretorius called out to his second-in-command. “Ready all weapons.”
Then the blips changed from unknown signals to identified Chitin craft. A dozen Chitin warships on a direct heading to the planet Eros.
“I didn’t think they would let us go that easily,” Griff said. He stepped back up to the holostage and contacted his Marines on Brecon.
“Attention Commanders Forge and Laidlaw,” Griff said into his communicator. “Incoming Chitin craft. Be ready.”
Pretorius sent orders to the drive officer to position the Scorpio. Commander Chou stepped up to the holostage and stood next to Pretorius. The two worked feverishly to ready the destroyer for action.
Griff pushed himself away from the holostage. “I’ll check Adder Company deployment through the ship, Captain.”
“Thank you, Major,” Pretorius said. “Make sure they pay dearly if they board us.”
Griff nodded stiffly. “Good luck, Captain.”
“To us all, Major.”
The signal on the blips changed again as the Chitins came even closer. There was a momentary lull in activity as Pretorius, Griff, and Chou all read the data. The oncoming Chitin craft were all Leviathan class warships, the Chitin’s most powerful ships.
“We can’t fight them,” Griff said. “The Scorpio on its own wouldn’t be able to take out one Leviathan. A dozen? It will be over before it’s begun.”
“Thank you, Major,” Pretorius said. “Prepare your Marines to repel Chitin incursions.”
“They won’t board us,” Griff said. “They’ll destroy us with one blast.”
“Thank you, Major!” Pretorius shouted. He turned to Commander Chou. “Notify command and control center on Eros that we are about to engage the Chitins at Brecon.”
“Engage?” Griff shouted. “We need to fall back. We need support. Call the Monarch. Tell them to get here.”
Pretorius stepped away from the holostage and put a hand on Griff’s shoulder. “The Monarch was destroyed, remember?”
Griff froze, then nodded.
“See to your duties, Major,” Pretorius said, concern etched into his face. “And let me see to mine.”
Griff nodded again and left.
Pretorius stepped back to the holostage.
“Show me the incoming Leviathans, Mister Chou,” Pretorius said.
The holostage zoomed in on the incoming Chitin craft. The twelve ships were arranged in a box, three-wide. The Chitins had taken losses and Fleet Intelligence had deduced that their supply of the Leviathan warships must be reduced to a token number. Maybe this was the entire Leviathan armada. Twelve Leviathans would make short work of the remaining two carrier groups. The Eros System fleet was reduced to only two carriers and their support craft. The fleet could take on and defeat two Leviathans, maybe three. But twelve was too many. Not even at their previous strength of four carrier groups and the hundreds of fighters and support craft could the fleet have taken on twelve Leviathans.
The group of twelve covered a huge area of space thirty kilometers across and twenty kilometers high. They raced forward in perfect formation, the long, thin, tentacle-like structures pointing toward their target, the Scorpio and Brecon.
The planetary defense cannons on the north and south of Brecon aimed their massive snub-nosed cannons at the incoming Leviathans.
Commander Chou showed Pretorius a communication dispatch fr
om Fleet Command and Control Headquarters on Eros. Another group of twelve Leviathans was closing in on the planet Eras. The planetary defense network in the asteroids around Eras was targeting the second group of Leviathans.
Pretorius put the news from his mind. Twenty-four Leviathans would be enough to overwhelm the entire military in minutes. The planetary defense cannons would have to do their job or the existence of human kind in the Eros system would soon come to an end.
The two cannons on Brecon were targeting the twelve Leviathans on route to Eros. A larger number of cannons on the many asteroids in orbit around Eras were targeting the twelve Leviathans attacking that sector.
The range finder on the holostage recorded the position of the Chitin craft. At just over a hundred thousand kilometers, they were on the edge of the range for the cannons.
Pretorius zoomed the holodisplay out to show the Leviathans and Brecon. At exactly one hundred thousand kilometers, the cannons came alive.
The muzzle of the cannon was suddenly ringed with a swirling mass of force lines as the cannon powered up its first discharge. The dust on the surface of Brecon climbed up off the ground and hovered in the lines of force that ran out over the moon’s surface.
Then the colorful swirling force lines collapsed in toward the cannon. The lights disappeared.
At the same moment, a Leviathan at the top left of the formation erupted in a mass of fire and debris.
The colorful lines of force began to gather again at the edge of the cannon’s muzzle, a swirling pattern of every color, like a swirling oil slick but in three dimensions. Then the force lines again collapsed toward the interior of the cannon’s muzzle. At the instant the force lines vanished, a second Leviathan exploded.
The swirling pattern at the northern cannon’s muzzle appeared again. Pretorius was briefly hypnotized by the colorful display. He had read all non-classified documents on the planetary defense cannon’s operational abilities, but there was scant technical data on its functionality. All Pretorius knew was the cannon was utterly and devastatingly powerful, and would protect the planets of Eros and Eras from the Chitins.
Forged Under Siege Page 2
