by Ryk Brown
* * *
Lieutenant Telles and his men held onto the launch tunnel walls tightly as the next fighter rushed past them. A split second later, the lieutenant pushed away from the wall as hard as he could, fighting against the departing fighter’s thrust-wash even as it dissipated. He swung himself outward and around the massive door collar, flinging himself into the massive launch airlock on the other side as the doors began to slide closed again. He quickly looked to see which surface was the deck. Judging by the markings, he saw that it was the surface above him. He fired his cold maneuvering jets to spin himself around and get his feet against the deck above him, activating his mag-boots as they contacted the deck.
The lieutenant looked over at his other two men, each of whom had also managed to get themselves into a secure, standing position. They all had a handheld weapon in each hand, and their shoulder cannons were deployed and ready to fire.
Five seconds later, the inside airlock door slid open, rising upward into the ceiling. As the door opened, light spilled in from the hangar deck on the other side of the door. The lieutenant could see the feet and lower legs of deck hands and flight support technicians as they scurried about, tending to the task of launching fighters in rapid succession. He watched the edge of the door as it rose, revealing the nose gear of the fighter just on the other side of the door that was waiting for its turn to enter the airlock and prepare for launch. Then the nose of the fighter, then the cockpit, then the eyes of its pilot as they went wide at the sight of three heavily armed, robotic-looking men with deadly weapons aimed at him.
The lieutenant’s first shot from the energy weapon in his right hand blew through the front windshield of the fighter’s canopy, then through the pilot’s helmet visor, where it dug into his forehead and instantly burnt the pilot’s brain. His face glowed orange for a moment, then his body slumped to the side.
The lieutenant’s next shot was at the fighter’s right main gear, causing it to collapse and dropping the fighter’s left wing to the deck. Its engine automatically shut down. His fellow Ghatazhak warriors emerged from the other three launch airlocks as he and his two teammates advanced, firing at anything that moved. There was virtually no resistance offered by the Jung technicians, as none of them would ever expect an incursion from the launch bays.
The Ghatazhak shoulder cannons fired only at larger targets as their targeting systems identified potential threats. The Ghatazhak used their handheld weapons like surgeons, placing single kill shots in the heads or chests of their scrambling enemies.
Eventually, security personnel began to arrive armed with their own energy weapons. Fortunately for the Ghatazhak, their external shields deflected the incoming bolts of energy, sending them ricocheting off in any number of directions, which caused further damage and added to the overall chaos of the situation.
The chaos was one-sided, however, as every shot, every deflection, every movement was quickly calculated by the advancing Ghatazhak warriors. The Jung internal defenses were so weak that the lieutenant soon powered down his shoulder cannons, finding they were not needed and were likely to cause more damage than necessary. Although his primary mission was to neutralize the Jung fighter base on Tanna’s fifth moon, allowing as few fighters to launch as possible, the lieutenant knew that every piece of equipment left undamaged was a potential resource for the Aurora in her struggle against the Jung.
* * *
“Three is down! Three is down! Jesus! He blew apart!”
“I got him!” Major Prechitt’s wingman announced as the Jung fighter in front of him blew apart. “I got the bastard!”
“Break left,” the major ordered, “or his fragments are going to get you!”
“I’ve got it, sir!”
Major Prechitt checked his aft fish-eye camera and saw his wingman slide in behind him again. “Four? You still with us?”
“I’m here, Major. I’m okay. My starboard engine is gone, but I can still maneuver.”
“Four, head back to the ship,” the major ordered.
“Yes, sir.”
“How many got through?” another pilot asked.
Major Prechitt checked his displays. “Two got by. Bravo flight?”
“We’ve got them, sir.”
“Alpha flight, press forward. We’ve got another flight of four inbound from that moon.”
“I thought the Ghatazhak were supposed to take that base out.”
“There hasn’t been a launch from there in over two minutes,” the pilot of Talon Four stated. “Maybe they did.”
“Don’t worry about the Ghatazhak,” the major said. “Just concentrate on those last four fighters. Max range in ten seconds. I’ve got the leftmost fighter. Two, take the shot to my right. Five and Six, take the next two from left to right.”
“Two copies.”
“Five copies.”
“Six copies.”
“Missile lock, Talon One! Firing one!” the major announced as he pressed the launch button on his flight stick. He could feel his missile bay doors pop open as his missile dropped out of the bay. As he felt the bay doors close again a second later, he peered forward over his console at the missile streaking away from him on its way to its target.
“Talon Two, firing one!”
“Talon Five, firing one!”
“Talon Six, firing one!”
Major Prechitt watched as all four missiles moved toward their targets on his display. Seconds later, the missiles found their targets, causing three of them to blink out of existence.
“Damn it! I missed!” the pilot of Talon Five said over the comms.
“Cut the chatter! He’s coming right at you,” Major Prechitt warned. “High split-Y!”
“You copy that, Reed?” Talon Five asked his wingman.
“I copy!”
“Split in three……two……one……SPLIT!”
Major Prechitt adjusted the range on his tracking display to better see the engagement. He watched as the symbol for Talon Five slid wide left, and Talon Six slid wide right, both of them climbing relative to their target as the Jung fighter passed between and slightly beneath them. They both yawed their spacecraft toward the Jung fighter and pitched down slightly to bring their plasma cannons onto the passing target. The Jung fighter also reacted, swinging his nose to fire on Talon Five, but he was too late. The plasma shots from both fighters tore through the Jung fighter, causing it to explode in a ball of fire that was extinguished a moment later by the vacuum of space.
“Nice work!” Major Prechitt said. “Bravo flight, report!”
“Talon leader, Bravo leader. We got them, sir.”
“Anyone see any other contacts?” the major asked.
“I’ve got nothing,” his wingman answered.
“Flight, Talon leader. Near space is clear. Proceeding to clear the orbital space around the fifth moon. Have Bravo stand off as backup.”
“Talon leader, Flight. Understood.”
“Any of their fighters get off the ground down there?”
“Combat reports four launches from the second base, none from the first.”
“Damn,” the major mumbled. “Charlie and Delta flights, take up stations around the Aurora. All other Talons, head to the surface of Tanna. We need to own those skies.”
“Flight ops reports Jumper One is departing now, sir,” Naralena stated from the comms station. “They should be in position to jump in three minutes.”
“Any word on the insertion team?” Nathan wondered. “Have they managed to disable the base defenses yet?”
“Unknown, sir,” Naralena answered. “They’re still operating under comm silence.”
Nathan looked worried. “If they don’t, that jump shuttle is going to have a rough time of it.”
“We know they’re in
and probably making headway,” Mister Navashee said. “There hasn’t been a launch from that base in five minutes now.”
“Let’s hope you’re right, Mister Navashee,” Nathan said. “We need time to get that second unit into position if we’re going to capture that propellant.” He turned toward the helm. “Mister Riley, how much time until we reach our jump or no-jump point?”
“Ten minutes, sir.”
* * *
“Jump complete,” the copilot reported. “Open her up.”
“Opening cargo hatch,” the crew chief reported.
The cargo hatch folded open, its top edge swinging away and downward across the back end of the jump shuttle’s cargo bay. Ten Ghatazhak warriors outfitted in full combat pressure suits stood patiently in the cargo bay, watching the ramp descend.
“Ramp deployed,” the crew chief announced as he held tightly to the handrail and leaned out slightly to see the fifth moon’s fuel depot structures. “I see the target below.”
“Ten seconds to jump,” the copilot announced.
The crew chief continued looking at the fuel depot below. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something move. Leaning out farther, he spotted a gun turret in the distance. “Oh, fuck! Gun turret! Eight o’clock! Swinging toward us!”
“Five seconds!” the copilot announced, a noticeable increase in tension in his voice.
The Ghatazhak began charging out the cargo hatch, jumping off the ramp in pairs.
“They’re jumping!”
“What? Not yet!”
“The turret’s firing!” the crew chief yelled as the last Ghatazhak left the ramp. He swung inward as rail gun rounds tore through the shuttle’s hull just forward of the cargo door. The impact ripped the handrail away along with a small section of hull and smashed through the other side of the cargo bay’s ceiling.
The shuttle banked hard, dropping its port side downward as it pitched up and applied full power. The crew chief fell toward the still open cargo door but was caught by his safety line.
“Close the hatch! We’ve gotta go!”
“I can’t!” the crew chief answered as he pulled on his safety line to regain his footing. “That hit fucked up the control box!”
“Move forward, Chief!” the copilot ordered. “We jump in five!”
The crew chief scrambled to move forward as the shuttle rolled back in the opposite direction.
“Four……”
Another series of rail gun slugs smashed through the deck of the cargo bay, blowing a one-meter hole in the deck and a smaller hole in the ceiling.
“Three……”
The impacts tossed the chief about again, causing him to fall forward into his seat.
“Two……”
He grabbed his restraint harness and pulled it over his shoulders toward the buckles on either side of him.
“One……”
The chief closed his eyes as another salvo of rail gun slugs tore through the shuttle’s hull less than a meter aft of him.
“Jumping!”
The shuttle’s cargo bay filled with the blue-white flash.
The ten Ghatazhak warriors drifted slowly toward the surface, firing their cold maneuvering jets to maintain attitude as well as to increase their rate of descent. As they fell, rail gun slugs flew past them at incredible speeds. Two slugs slammed into one of the warriors, obliterating him and sending bloody fragments of his combat pressure suit spraying across the remaining warriors.
They fired the cold thrusters at full power to push themselves down more quickly in order to get out of the rail gun turret’s firing line. Seconds later, another warrior was torn apart by the rail gun fire. His body disintegrated as the kinetic energy from the slugs mutilated his torso, sending his limbs spinning off in all directions.
One by one, the Ghatazhak warriors slammed down onto the surface, the exoskeletons on their combat suits absorbing the force of the impact for them. Leaving their thrusters firing, they ran across the surface of the tiny moon, ducking between the fuel depot’s various structures and holding tanks.
The team split into two elements of four men each and headed in opposite directions. The first team continued between the row of tanks protruding from below surface level, turning to their left toward an access building. The second team moved in the opposite direction, eventually finding another access building on the far side of the depot.
The first team placed charges on the access building’s hatch, then immediately moved around to the side of the building. Moments later, the charges blew, and two of the Ghatazhak warriors charged through the smoke and into the building. Five seconds later, they came out again, quickly moving to either side of the blown open outer hatch. Another explosion came from inside the building, followed by a gush of air that blew the smoke outward and into open space. The first two Ghatazhak immediately charged back into the building with the remaining two following close behind.
* * *
“We’ve got line of sight on the fifth moon, Captain,” Mister Navashee reported.
“Sir,” Naralena called out, “combat reports they are now getting helmet camera feeds from the Ghatazhak.”
“Can you put those up?” Nathan asked his tactical officer.
“Yes, sir,” Mister Randeen answered. “Which ones?”
“Put up everything from that moon,” Nathan ordered. Nathan watched as separate windows started appearing on the main view screen, each revealing the view from a Ghatazhak helmet camera.
“I’ve got the team attacking the fighter base on the left and the team at the fuel depot on the right,” Mister Randeen reported.
Nathan watched in horror as the Ghatazhak annihilated their enemy at every turn. On the left, the warriors attacking the fighter base were merciless, killing everyone in sight, both armed and unarmed. Their aim was amazingly accurate, striking their targets in the head, face, and chest and killing them instantly. They moved with amazing speed and agility, charging into incoming fire without hesitation.
“My God,” he exclaimed as he viewed the carnage. He was beginning to see why most of Takaran society viewed the Ghatazhak as brutal, soulless killing machines. They were extremely efficient at just that. However, there was a beauty to their single-minded purpose, achieving a military objective at any cost and with maximum aggression. Maximum aggression was exactly what Nathan was seeing at the moment. He shuddered to think of the things Caius had probably done with such warriors before his demise.
The camera views on the right, those of the warriors attacking the fuel depot, were far less gruesome. There was very little shooting going on. Most of the internal facilities of the depot had been depressurized by the Ghatazhak’s strategic placement of hatch charges as they made their way through the facility. When they finally did reach a sealed airlock, Nathan was almost surprised to see them step inside and cycle through the airlock in normal fashion instead of simply blowing it like all the others.
When they stepped through the airlock into the next section, they continued their rampage, firing even more rounds as internal security forces swarmed onto both Ghatazhak insertion teams.
One of the Ghatazhak cameras went to an odd angle, pointing at one wall and not moving. “Is he down?” Nathan asked.
“I believe so,” Mister Randeen said. “That makes three that have been lost on the second team.”
Nathan quickly counted the camera views, embarrassed that he hadn’t already realized there were only eight cameras active in the group storming the fuel depot. He quickly counted the group attacking the fighter base. There were only eight still moving. One camera sat motionless, pointing at the ceiling, while another was completely dark with only occasional flashes of light coming in from the sides.
“That’s five,” Nathan mumbled. He turned to Mister Randeen at t
he tactical station behind him. “How many losses have the Ghatazhak suffered on the surface?”
“One moment.”
“Seven minutes to jump or no-jump, sir,” Mister Riley reported from the navigation console.
“Combat is getting feeds from both surface teams,” Mister Randeen reported. “Shall I put those up as well?”
Nathan hesitated, unsure whether he wanted to witness the carnage the Ghatazhak were probably doling out on the surface. After a brief moment, he sighed. “Put them up.”
Two more groups of windows opened up on the sides of the Aurora’s massive, spherical view screen. The views from the surface were more brightly lit, as the sun had already begun to rise on both bases. The Ghatazhak were already beyond the flight lines and were attacking the buildings and the occupants inside. Occasionally, one of the Ghatazhak would spin around, revealing the burning rows of destroyed fighters. The warriors continuously pummeled the buildings with their shoulder cannons, forcing the occupants out into the open where they slaughtered them with pinpoint fire from their handheld energy weapons. There were two more cameras that were either offline or not moving from the first base, and another one blinked off from the second base.
“It’s a slaughter,” Mister Randeen said.
“Perhaps,” Nathan said, “but let’s not forget, Mister Randeen, that there are eight men down, and it’s not over yet.”
“Yes, sir,” Mister Randeen said apologetically.
“What about the fifth team?” Nathan asked.
“They are still comm silent. They should be touching down shortly. Their helmet cameras should go active once they engage the enemy.”
“Five minutes to jump, no-jump,” Mister Riley reported.
