"This is Walker," the sergeant said through the comm. The connection was spotty and choppy, threatening to mangle even the short phrase.
"I'm going to assume your team is going to search for the away teams?"
"That's an affirmative. Teams two and three should have more than enough firepower to handle your anomaly, even if every enemy trooper is protecting the damned thing."
"Last we heard, our XO was on deck eight working their way up towards the bridge. You might want to start there."
"Sounds like as good a place as any to start. I'll try to keep you posted on our developments, but I refuse to leave a man behind to fend for himself."
"I wouldn't expect anything less. Just do what you can to keep in touch. Wellard out."
On the viewscreen Wellard watched as the remaining fighters began the final sweep of the area searching for drones that had been removed from their standard targeting vectors for one reason or another, yet were still a nominal threat. There weren't many of these disabled drones in the area, so the risk to his fighter pilots was minimal at best.
"Open a channel to the CAG." He waited a moment for the shipboard systems to patch him through to Commander Thompson in her office on the main flight deck.
"Thompson here," she said. "The battle is going as expected, Captain. Lost another dozen of our fighters to catastrophic loss, with another four disabled. I expect to have all surviving pilots back on the deck within the next ten minutes."
"How did the Achilles' fighters fare?"
"About as good as us. Fifteen destroyed, and another five disabled."
"I'll count that as a victory any day," Wellard said. The fighter crews had performed admirably to this point. He only hoped they had enough left in the tank in case the approaching ships ended up being hostile. If they were, it was increasingly likely the fighter pilots would find themselves outnumbered yet again, and this time they might not have the advantage of fighting against drones.
"Tell me the XO is about done over there," Thompson said, sounding generally concerned. "I'm not sure how much my pilots have left in the tank. They've lost a lot of good friends today, not to mention the fact that they've had to fly two different sorties."
"His luck is as good as mine, I'm afraid. I think it would be best if you had your crews get the fighters refitted and ready for battle as soon as feasibly possible. The closer those ships get, the more I believe they are hostile."
"Step ahead of you, Captain. We should have the fighters ready for combat in less than thirty minutes. Just do me a favor and buy my boys as much time as possible before sending them out."
"In an ideal world, they'd stay cozy in their beds. Shit, we all would. But, I'll do what I can. Wellard out."
"Captain, scans have come back on the approaching ships," Ritter said.
"Finally. Don't keep me waiting. Fill me in."
"Well sir, I don't know how to say this. But the ships originated on Earth."
Chapter Forty-One
Atroxxin Sector
Flight Deck, NECS Endeavor
"What the hell was that?" Commander Thompson screamed as she approached Bobcat's mangled fighter. "I have half a mind to throw both of you in the brig for that little stunt. Lucky for you, the captain seems intent on killing you first."
"Easy, Commander," Switch said in a way that suggested the CAG was overreacting. "She just wanted to cut her two torpedoes loose before she got towed into the bay. Besides, if it wasn't for those two torpedoes shuttle one would've bought the farm. Considering Sergeant Walker was on that bird, I consider that an act of bravery."
"Stupidity is more like it," Thomson interjected, then turned to Bobcat. "What do you have to say for yourself?"
"I did what I had to do, Commander. And I sure as shit would do it again, threats and all. It might not have been the smart play. Shit, willingly flying one of these damned things isn't the smart play. Our job is to go out there and kill the enemy in to save the lives of our friends and loved ones. Considering I did just that, I'd consider that a success even if I lost my life pulling it off. Living through it was a bonus."
Valarie's shoulders slumped, and she sighed. "You two are the craziest bastards I've ever met. If the rest of the pilots were like you we'd have a lot less enemies."
"And you'd have a lot less hair," Switch joked.
Valarie shook her head and smiled at the remark. That much was true. While she was happy to have someone on the squad who was willing to do what was necessary to do the job, she was glad most of the team just wanted to survive at all costs. It caused far less problems, not to mention less personal time with the CO.
"Just so you're aware, Captain Wellard has ordered me to have the fighters refit in record time. Seems we might get into another scrap today. I'd advise you to clean up and get some chow while you have time. I expect both of you dressed and on the deck in thirty minutes."
"So much for six months of combat-free service," Switch added. "Guess we get the break on the back side of our term?"
"I wouldn't bet my pension on it. In fact, considering the day's events, it's probably safe to assume that little provision is off the table."
"I see how it is. Promise us the world to get us to sign the damned papers and take it off the table after we do," Switch said with a grin. "But I'd be remiss if I didn't say I'm glad to see a little action. Six months of drills was going to be boring as shit."
"Agreed," Bobcat said.
"In any case, go take a break. God knows you need it." Valarie turned and left the two pilots standing next to their birds.
"You really think the captain is going to send us back out in that mess? There can't be over fifty of us left to fight."
"And fewer working birds," Tegan agreed. The situation on the ship was dire indeed if the captain was willing to send what pilots he had left back out into another skirmish. One in which they would easily be outnumbered by no less than three-to-one with only one ship. Facing down the fighters of three ships was nothing short of suicidal, and that was saying none of the ships were carriers. If they had one of those in their pockets, the fighter battle was over long before it started.
"The thing is," Tegan continued. "Over the years I've learned that when your CO tells you to get ready for a fight, he intends on swinging his fists. Considering we just escorted no less than sixty marines over to the Providence, I can't see the captain wanting to bail on them now."
"Yeah, I get it. Just be nice to get a nap in before being thrown to the grinder. That's all."
Tegan reached out and placed a comforting arm around his shoulders. "If it were only that easy," she agreed. "Go hit the showers. Last one out has to buy the drinks tonight."
"Guess I'm buying then. See you in twenty."
Tegan grinned. Nope. See you in thirty.
Chapter Forty-Two
Atroxxin Sector
Middle Decks, NECS Providence
After unleashing three separate volleys of fire, Jason Bremerton ducked behind the piles of bodies for cover. Adams held his position long enough to allow Jacobs to get behind a desk before doing the same.
Richards held his position at the terminal a few seconds longer, fingers working the display attempting to unlock the other terminals on the ship.
Bremerton crawled towards the engineer, careful to keep any part of his body from poking out over the top of the pile. The last thing he wanted was to get shot trying to save Richards' ass.
"Get down you fool. The data isn't that important."
"Yes it is," Richards argued. "It's the whole reason we're in this mess to begin with. Besides, I only need two more seconds to secure the link."
"Secure it later," Bremerton said as he wrapped his arm around the engineer's leg. "We need you alive."
Before Richards could react, two alien heads peered out from behind the cover of the doorway. Their drab yellow faces standing out like a sore thumb against the white backdrop of the hall. The things grunted, allowing trace amounts of drool to escape what
could only be their mouths as they did.
Damn these things are ugly, whatever they are.
The two creatures brought up their weapons and leveled them at the only target in the room stupid enough to still be out in the open and fired. Jason pulled Richards' leg with everything he had, but it was too late to keep the crimson beam from slicing through the engineer's shoulder.
Richards screamed in pain as the blast ripped through flesh and bone alike, nearly separating the arm from its socket. His body slammed against the wall from the force of the blast and was held there for a moment until his legs gave out underneath him. He slid down the wall, leaving a bloody stain along the wall as he did.
Wanting to keep the damned aliens from getting an easy kill, Bremerton lifted his head from behind the pile of bodies and leveled his blaster at the door. With a flick of this thumb, he switched his weapon to full automatic before unleashing a torrent of blaster fire at the door.
He caught the first alien square in his face, the beams carving away bone and brain tissue until successive shots passed through the gaping hole, scorching the wall on the other side. As the thing's brain signaled the rest of the body that it was dead, its legs gave out underneath it and it collapsed to the floor.
Seeing Bremerton's attempt to save Richards, Adams hefted his weapon and added his fire to the XO's. Unlike Bremerton, Adams opted to keep his fire in semi-automatic bursts to keep his weapon from overheating. The shots hit the second alien in the chest, penetrating its bronze colored armor and entering its flesh. It howled in pain and dropped its weapon and clawed at the armor's crude straps, but before it could take it off, Adams fired a second burst at the creature striking it in the head.
Jacobs kept low, near bear-crawling towards Richards. Once he reached the engineer, he pulled a roll of medical wrap from one of his belt containers and wrapped it around Richards' shoulder. The wound looked worse than what it was as the laser had all but cauterized the wound as it went through. It was hardly a consolation considering he'd be lucky to keep the arm once they were back to the ship.
"That too tight?" he asked as he completed his final loop.
Richards bit his lip to keep from tearing up in front of the marines, and shook his head instead.
"Good," Jacobs said as he wrapped a layer of tape around the bandage to hold it in place. "Next time we tell you to take cover, I advise you to listen. We may be badass killers, but none of us are willing to jump into the line of fire to save someone who doesn't seem to want to be saved. Get my drift?"
Richards nodded.
"Good, now come join me behind the desk. Plenty of room for two back there. I promise that terminal will still be there when we're done with this mess."
Richards shot the marine a look that begged to ask the man if he was sure, but opted to not get further on the man's bad side.
"Two more contacts," Adams said as he held his blaster to the door. At the first sign of motion on the other side, he pulled the trigger twice, sending two controlled bursts through the threshold. The blasts hit nothing but air until they hit the opposite wall, further damaging the pant.
He hadn't intended the fire to hit the target, but wouldn't have complained if it had. Instead, he wanted to buy Jacobs and Richards a few more seconds to get back behind cover before they took yet another round of fire. No sooner than they were safely behind the desk Adams dropped to the floor, a fresh batch of laser fire passing just over his head as he did.
That was too close, Bremerton thought. For the first time since exiting the shuttle, he was staring down the grim reality he may not complete his mission. A lifetime of studying fleet battle tactics and maneuvers only to die on what was supposed to be a friendly ship while holding a damned blaster. Hardly the death he had in mind.
Jason peered around the piles of bodies far enough to notice four sets of eyes looking through the door. Each alien holding weapons that sent laser fire towards each of their hiding spots. The smell of burned flesh filled the air as the laser fire intended for Jason ripped through the bodies. Some of the shots ignited the clothing, starting a fire in the center of the room.
"Fire detected. Initiating containment protocols. Affected personnel are to evacuate the area immediately," the computer chirped over the blaster fire, almost cheerfully.
Great, Bremerton thought after hearing the shipboard system. If being backed into a corner wasn't bad enough, they had to choose between burning to death or having their weapons short out thanks to the moisture. In either case, their fate was all but sealed as the automated sprinkler systems came to life.
Water cascaded from two-dozen points in the ceiling, dousing the flames in a matter of seconds. The water that would save them from one of the most gruesome deaths imaginable also having the effect of shorting out their blasters in short order.
Bremerton dropped his weapon and crouched to the ground, hoping the aliens weapons were also as effected. That hope all but eliminated when a handful of beams scorched the wall.
Adams dropped his now useless blaster and pulled a large vibroknife from its holster on his hip. He gripped the weapon in his right hand, causing the weapon to hum as the electronics pulsed the blade in his hand.
The marine took two deep breaths before leaping out from behind his cover and at the group of aliens at the door. He slid his blade along the neck of the first alien, slicing the soft tissue with ease. Orange blood gushed from the wound, covering Adams in gore.
Before the first alien fell, he stuck his blade into the eye socket of another. It cut through the bone as if it weren't there, allowing the fine blade to penetrate the thing's frontal lobe. It was dead before the brain registered it was cut.
Ripping the blade, free, he turned to face a third alien. Having watched two of its friends die in the matter of seconds, it was ready for the marine. It chopped Adams' arm, knocking the vibroknife free as the strength of the blow shattered his wrist. A second strike crushed his windpipe while a third tore into the marine's chest with a loud crunch.
Adams reached for his neck with his good hand, trying to force the shattered bones apart long enough to take in a precious breath. The alien just stood there with what could only pass as a smile on its face as it watched the marine die in front of him.
As the edges of his vision turned black, Adams dropped to his knees. He leaned forward to grab the vibroknife for one final strike, but was rewarded with a kick that shattered even more ribs.
He laid on the ground, struggling for air as the two remaining aliens stood over him watching him die. Then their chest burst open, bits of flesh and ravaged intestines fell onto Adams before their lifeless bodies fell onto him. The weight of their bodies pushed the last of the air from his lungs as he died.
Chapter forty-Three
Atroxxin Sector
Bridge, NECS Endeavor
"What do you mean they originated on Earth?" Wellard stared at the tech. The rest of the crew was doing the same. They were just as confused.
"Just what I said," Ritter said, taking a defensive posture. "The ships were built on Earth."
"They don't look like any of the designs from the last century. Besides, we lost the shipyards when we lost the planet." It wasn't entirely true. The shipyards had been in play as recently as a decade ago, but as far as he knew there was no way they were still being used today.
"Still, those ships were clearly built on Earth."
Ritter punched a few commands on her console and sent the results over to Wellard's screen. The captain stared at the data, wondering how it was possible. If these ships originated on Earth that meant the Mythrar had somehow figured out how to repair their machinery. Not just that, it meant they brought enough bodies to not only take over the planet, but to man the shipyards as well.
Over time that should have been possible, but if he was reading the data right, these ships were built ninety-five years ago. As bad as the battle over the planet was, they hadn't brought in nearly enough ground troops to make such a ground battle
conceivable. Even considering the rumors of their abilities, it was damn near impossible for them to have found a way to power the shipyards.
All that, and it didn't even consider the people it required for the job. Not only to make the things, but to pilot and fully crew them to be ready for battle. Seeing the three ships lumbering towards them, he knew they were planning on a fight. Weren't they?
"Are you sure the date of origination on those ships is correct? Is there any way that data could have been tampered with?"
"Sure it could have," Ritter said. "But why would they? The data is imprinted into the database the moment the ship goes live. Unless they are trying to make it look like they took over the shipyards on Earth instead of actually having done it..."
"You're right. The only tactical advantage that gives is to throw us off our game. That little distraction would only last as long as it took until the first shots were fired." Wellard paced the bridge. "No, it's safe to assume these contacts are hostile. Wilson, put the crew on full alert. I expect every able body on the ship to be ready for a fight."
Wellard suddenly wished he had a better view of the ships as it would be another thirty minutes until they were close enough to notice the minute details. He suspected the ships would be eerily similar to those built nearly one-hundred years ago, but would they still use the same tech?
Human technology had jumped by leaps and bounds since the invasion. Partially thanks to the raw data extrapolated from the few ships that escaped and partially in response to the thorough beating they received.
Armor modulation technology was one of the first things invented after the war, with significant improvements to laser technology shortly after. If those ships were built by the same minds that were creating them back then, the upcoming battle would be a mere technicality. But he suspected they weren't. If nothing else, the ships would be an amalgamation of human and Mythrar technology. How those ships would fare against the Endeavor was unknown.
Endeavor (The Mythrar War Book 1) Page 14
