The Gates of Hell

by Chris Kennedy

  “Woah, I’m not saying we should.”

  Sloan sighed again and nodded. “I know, Roger. I’m sorry. This is all just such a cluster. Between you and me, I’m not sure what to do from here. I know we’re not the only ones looking for Snowman, but we’re probably one of the few looking for him who don’t want him dead.”

  “What about Peacemaker Francis?”

  Sloan rubbed his chin. Peacemaker Jessica Francis was Snowman’s, James Francis’, daughter. He’d never met her, but he’d heard she was a firecracker, just like her dad.

  “No idea where she is. I’ve sent a message off to the Peacemakers to try to reach her, but they aren’t much in the mood for talking these days.”

  “And Spartan?”

  Sloan grinned. “No idea where he is, either, or when he’ll be available again. I know if I were Colonel Enkh, I certainly wouldn’t have him sitting around on his hands. He’s one dangerous sonofabitch, and honestly, I’d never ask the Golden Horde for help with this. I’m not quite sure what the Horsemen think of Snowman right now, and I’m afraid to find out. We might only still be here because we helped out one of theirs.”

  “You think they’d do something?”

  “I think Colonel Enkh would personally strangle anyone who screwed with their plans right now, and I don’t want to risk being in the wrong place at the wrong time. The best place I can think of to be is anywhere other than Earth right now.”

  Wilson eyed Sloan critically. “I’ve never seen you like this.”

  “Like what?”

  “Indecisive.”

  Sloan nodded. “You’re right. You’ve never seen it. Here’s what I know for sure, Roger. We’re going to check out this distress call, deal with whatever it is, then go back and get Sergeant Baker and take her back to Earth. From there, I’m open to ideas.”

  “I think we need to track down Peacemaker Francis. She’s the only other person we can really trust.”

  Sloan glanced at the countdown clock on his wall display. “Ten hours to arrival. Get the first teams in their racks. I want everyone well-rested when we get there. CASPers in the dropship ready to go. Just in case.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  * * *

  Intergalactic Haulers Transport Stone Mountain, Zaotov System Emergence Point

  The experienced crew of the Stone Mountain showed no indication they noticed the sensation when they transited out of hyperspace, but they all felt it.

  Sloan watched as his crew performed their tasks. Immediately upon emergence, scanners went hot and looked for anything in the system. Communications reached out to the stargate crew to check for any known distress signals and find out who had been through Zaotov recently.

  “Gate control is useless as usual, sir,” Mitchell reported.

  Sloan hadn’t expected any different, but one could always hope.

  “I’ve got an active distress beacon on the third planet,” Wilson reported. He turned to face Sloan. “Sir, it matches Valdosta’s signature.”

  Sloan leaned forward in his chair and gave orders. “Best course and speed to orbit. Roger, have Lieutenant Moore and her squad hold tight and launch as soon as we’re in the dropship’s range. Lieutenant Mitchell, see if you can raise any survivors on comms.”

  The mood on the bridge was tense but hopeful. Finally, after so many months, they’d found another of the Intergalactic Haulers’ ships. Sloan still didn’t want to relay the information to the entire crew. Something wasn’t right, and he knew it. The Valdosta, as far as he knew, had been on a mission with Macon, Snowman’s command ship. What did make sense, though, was that Valdosta could be on the ground. She was a frigate, meant for just that purpose.

  As they grew closer to the planet, Wilson stayed glued to the sensor station. “Looks like CASPers and multiple dropships on the ground. No signs of an ongoing firefight, but there’s plenty of damage. There’s a lot of interference, so I can’t get a solid read on anything.”

  “What kind of interference?” Sloan asked as he mirrored the display to his slate.

  “Undetermined,” Wilson answered, troubled.

  “Can’t reach anyone on comms. Just static,” Lieutenant Mitchell added.

  Sloan chewed on his bottom lip while he considered the situation. It wasn’t unheard of for them to send people into the unknown to follow a distress beacon, but he wasn’t the only one who knew that.

  He raised Lieutenant Moore, who was standing by in the dropship. “Lieutenant Moore, I need to give you a full brief on this situation, because I don’t know what I’m sending you into. The distress call we’re receiving appears to be from Valdosta.” He paused to let that sink in. “We can’t get a clear picture of what’s going on down there, so I don’t know if it’s them or not.”

  “We’re ready for anything, sir,” Moore responded confidently.

  “Hold position until we’re in orbit and can get a better picture.”

  “Yes, sir. Holding launch for further orders.”

  Sloan closed the channel and fixed his eyes on Commander Wilson. “Find out what’s down there.”

  * * *

  Intergalactic Haulers Transport Stone Mountain, Zaotov-3 Orbit

  Several hours later, Sloan had established orbit above the third planet in the system, directly above the continuing distress signal. “Well?”

  Wilson shook his head. “This is one nasty planet. Electromagnetic storms are all over the surface. Can’t think of a worse place to be. I can’t get any clear definition, sir. Comms can’t get through, and neither can our sensors.”

  “But the distress beacon can?”

  “Strong single-pulse signal, sir. It’s burning through the storms.”

  Sloan licked his lips as he looked at the readouts. “Send the dropship. If something doesn’t feel right, they turn around and come home without dropping the CASPers.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  * * *

  Intergalactic Haulers Dropship, Descending to Zaotov-3

  Lieutenant Moore double-checked that her squad was latched in and gave the go signal. She felt the magnetic landing pads disengage and then acceleration as they headed for the planet.

  “What’s the plan, boss?” Corporal Mack asked.

  “We’ll do a fly-by to see what’s what and then make a call from there. Captain Sloan is a little nervous about this drop.”

  “Thank you for flying Intergalactic Haulers,” the dropship pilot came over the comms. “Today we’ll be flying through this horrible atmosphere as safely and quickly as we can and then executing a low altitude fly-over of a potential LZ which will include several high-G turns, so sit tight and hold on to whatever you can reach.”

  “Smartass,” Moore mumbled.

  “You wouldn’t have it any other way, ma’am,” the pilot came back. “Seriously, I can’t see shit through this interference, so I’m going in hot. I don’t want to be a target. These storms are going to play hell with everything.”

  “Copy that.”

  Moore grunted a few moments later as she felt the first of several high-G turns the pilot executed. He was flying like he was trying to avoid flak, and she was okay with that. There were too many unknowns on this drop. Finally the flight leveled out, and she felt a slow bank, but even that wasn’t smooth. She could hear the fury of storms even through the thick hull of the ship. “Status?”

  “I got a clear look at what appears to be a frigate on the ground. Some CASPers moving around, and a lot of fires burning.”

  “Was it the Valdosta?”

  “Could be. No way to know for sure. Your call, Lieutenant. I can take you back up, or find a spot to put you down. Ummm, just so you know. I’ve lost contact with Stone Mountain.”

  “Shit! Okay, put us down a few klicks out. We’ll walk in to check it out.”

  “Copy that, ma’am. I saw a clearing with a valley leading into where the wreckage is. Touchdown in two.”

  Moore switched to the squad-net. “Okay, folks, we’re going to put down
a little ways away from the wreckage and walk it in. Something’s fishy, but we gotta check it out.”

  * * *

  Intergalactic Haulers Transport Stone Mountain, Zaotov-3 Orbit

  “Sir, I’ve lost contact with Lieutenant Moore’s dropship,” Mitchell reported. His voice was calm as befit a professional, but everyone on the bridge frowned.

  “I can barely see them on sensors. Probably just the storms,” Lieutenant Commander Aruan added. She turned her attention back to her station, then exclaimed, “Contact! There’s a ship coming out from behind the second planet, headed our way.”

  “Shit!” Sloan tightened the straps that held him in his command chair. “General Quarters! Mitchell, hail that ship. Let’s find out who else is here.”

  The lights around the ship turned an amber color as the alarm sounded, and the men and women of the Stone Mountain ran to their battle stations. Their most significant advantage was that this transport had more bite than some might think. Sloan hoped whoever was coming had underestimated their capabilities.

  “I’ve got them,” Mitchell said and switched the audio to the bridge’s speakers.

  “Welcome, Intergalactic Haulers, to our party, thrown just for you,” a voice came over the ship’s speakers. “We had hoped the illustrious Snowman himself would respond to our invitation, but it seems he’s still playing the coward and hiding somewhere.”

  “Who are you, and what do you want?” Sloan demanded.

  “Who we are isn’t important. All you need to know is, we’ve put a lot of effort into this, and you’ll have to pay the price for your commander’s betrayal of the Human race…unless you tell me where James Francis is.”

  Sloan muted his side of the comm. “What is it?”

  “Just a frigate, sir,” Auran said, confused.

  Sloan grinned a bit at the way she’d said it. Most transports wouldn’t be happy to see a frigate approaching with bad intentions.

  * * *

  Zaotov-3, Surface

  Moore frowned in the cockpit of her CASPer as she lost comms with the dropship. She could still barely see the jets, but the storm cut their comms range to almost nothing. It would fly circles close by and come overhead now and then, but she and her five other CASPers were on their own.

  Her sensors usually provided visibility for several kilometers, but the storms were putting a stop to that. “Stay tight,” she said over the squad-net. “I don’t know how effective our comms are going to be in this mess. Horne, you’re on point.”

  “Copy that, ma’am,” Sergeant Caitlyn Horne responded.

  The squad walked up the valley toward the wreckage, where the distress beacon was still transmitting. Horne took the lead position, Corporals Mack and McKnight spread to the left, Specialists Freeman and Snider to the right, and Moore brought up the rear herself in a modified diamond formation.

  “Keep your eyes on those hills around us…if it wasn’t for this damn interference, we’d spread out more,” Moore grumbled.

  “I can jump up and have a look, LT,” Freeman suggested.

  She considered Freeman’s offer. She was always the first to jump if something dangerous needed to be done and was usually successful.

  “Okay. Head on a swivel.”

  Freeman triggered her jump jets and landed on top of the hill to their right. Moore heard a burst of static when she attempted to communicate and frowned. It didn’t sound like interference, it sounded like—her thought was interrupted when Freeman’s CASPer exploded.

  “Stand fast!” she ordered before the rest of her squad could charge up the hill. She didn’t know what had hit Freeman’s CASPer, but she knew whatever it was had done the job. Her jaws clenched, and she assessed her surroundings. No cover; they were in a valley and were obviously being watched, with nowhere to retreat to. They were screwed, unless…

  She looked up to see the dropship flying toward the source of whatever had killed Freeman and dared to hope. High-velocity MACs and rockets fired from the dropship at something she couldn’t see behind the hill. What she did see were the anti-air missiles that flew up and struck her ride home. The dropship broke apart from three missile impacts before it fell below the hill’s peak.

  Suddenly the comm interference died out, and a male voice transmitted to all of her CASPers. “Surrender, or you’re all dead.”

  * * *

  Intergalactic Haulers Transport Stone Mountain, Zaotov-3 Orbit

  “Let’s draw them in a bit,” Sloan said calmly before he opened his mic. “I don’t know where Snowman is, and if I did, I sure as hell wouldn’t tell you, whoever you are.”

  “That’s a shame, Captain Sloan,” the voice said.

  Sloan raised an eyebrow.

  “Yes we know who you are, Captain. We also know your CASPers are on their own, since my men on the ground just shot your dropship down. Keep that in mind while you consider your next course of action. We’ll be approaching your ship in one hour. Prepare to be boarded and surrender your vessel.”

  The communication channel closed, and Sloan scowled. “Any word from the surface?”

  Wilson shook his head. “No, sir. Still can’t get through. We did pick up a pretty good size explosion, though. Based on what our mystery frigate captain said, I’d guess it was our dropship.”

  Sloan closed his eyes and thought. He still had one assault shuttle, but no other way to get to and from the surface, so he didn’t dare send it out while that frigate was still out there. “Moore’s on her own for now, then. We need to deal with this frigate before we can do anything about what’s going on down there.”

  “She’s tough, sir. She’ll be fine,” Wilson reassured him. He almost sounded like he believed it himself.

  “Heightened energy readings on the frigate’s weapon positions. Based on the design, it’s laser heavy,” Aruan reported.

  Sloan wished he had Spartan and his troopers here for this one, or better yet, more of the Haulers, but he was on his own. He wanted to know who was after Snowman, but he didn’t think trying to capture anyone on the ship was an option. They’d have to throw everything they had at it and try to take it out as quickly as possible, but he wanted to lure it in just a bit closer before they showed the strength of Stone Mountain.

  “We can’t miss. Let them get as close as they’re going to get, then give them everything we’ve got,” Sloan ordered.

  “Yes, sir.”

  * * *

  Zaotov-3, Surface

  “Well, this sucks,” Snider summed up the situation succinctly as he scanned the area. “What’s the plan, LT?”

  “Given that they’ve shot down our ride home, and what they did to Anita, I’m going to guess they’re not bluffing,” Moore responded. She’d never thought she’d be in a position where she had to surrender. “Let’s take it as a good sign they didn’t just kill us all. They must want something.”

  “Sure, but what?” Mack asked.

  “One way to find out. Horne, you got your holdout?”

  “Always,” she answered.

  “I’ll never make fun of you for carrying that thing again,” Mack promised.

  “You’re so sweet, Corporal Mack,” Horne said in a girly voice that didn’t suit her capabilities.

  Moore grinned to herself. Even in the face of imminent surrender to an unknown enemy, her team could take her mind off of it, even for a second.

  “So what do we do? Put our arms up?” Moore asked over the open channel.

  “Eject your hardpoint weapons systems. We see one arm blade or shield extend, you all pay the price,” a voice answered. “Look to your right if you have any doubts.”

  She did and had no doubts at all. A dropship hovered behind a squad of CASPers on the hill to their right. Ten CASPers and a dropship against her five CASPers. Snider had summed things up perfectly.

  “The dropship will come over and land. You’ll board and lock in just like you know how to do. Clear?”

  Moore sighed. “Eject the hardpoints. We’ll
do as you say.”

  All the members of her squad removed their shoulder and arm-mounted weapons and set them on the ground. They were all meant to be easily detached and re-attached if maintenance or swapping out was necessary. She’d never expected to use them like this.

  The dropship flew over a bit clumsily, and she winced as it hit the ground harder than necessary. Whoever was piloting the thing certainly wasn’t a professional with any company she knew about. That could work in their favor. She led her squad onto the otherwise empty dropship, and they hooked in like they would for any other transport.

  It took a few more minutes than it should have because a few of the hookups were broken. In general, the inside of the dropship looked like something from a junkyard. Moore took a closer look at the interior of the ship and saw holes in the hull in various places, probably MAC hits, that hadn’t been patched. Maybe it is from a junkyard, she thought.

  “Very good,” the voice spoke again as the door closed. “Now exit your CASPers, and close the cockpits behind you.”

  “While the dropship is moving? Are you nuts?” Moore snapped.

  “You’ll be fine.”

  “No way. I saw the way this hunk of junk came in. If you want to kill us, go ahead, but suicide by amateur pilot isn’t on my list of things to do today.”

  Whoever it was giving orders apparently wasn’t ready for an argument, which gave her time to think. The man who’d been talking to them sounded confident, but she wondered how much of that was false bravado. They had some weapons systems, and they’d taken a cheap shot at Specialist Freeman. They took down a dropship, but that didn’t require skill so much as having some heat-seeking missiles and pointing them in the right direction.

  “Fine, you can stay in your CASPers,” the man finally responded. He sounded frustrated.

  The dropship lifted off, and she grunted when it violently pitched left, then right, before finally stabilizing its flight.

  “Shit! I’ve been on combat drops through AA that are smoother than this asshole’s flying,” Snider quipped on their squad-net.