UCSB DATE: 1001.284
Kafore System, Kafore-3 Ring System, Dropshop A-13-32
The tactical hologram told Trevis everything he needed to know. The intercepts he’d received from the passive scanner pods they’d deployed on arrival painted a beautiful picture of their trap. He checked the position of their sleek Ferine Dropship. Perched on the back of this chunk of ice, they were all but invisible in the jamming environment generated by the ringed gas giant Kafore-3. Their waste heat could give them away, but their Zero Kinetic Energy Potentials (Z-KEP) packs were handling that for now. A meter on his display showed a fluctuation in the local gravity field which made him perk up. A moment later their quarry, the GFS Cunningham, a Mitchell Class light carrier, reverted to normal drive only a few thousand metra away.
Trevis checked their position again. The chunk of ice they clung to eclipsed them from the carrier as it sailed above the rings. A moment later fighters launched from the open front maw of the carrier’s full-length flight-deck. Phantom 4s and Tiger Cats raced away from their mothership. None of them faltered in their courses before they left sensor range and Trevis deactivated the hologram.
“We have the target in sight. Are you sure this is how you want to do this?” the dropship’s pilot asked through the intercom.
Trevis slammed his fist into the intercom panel in response. He’d long grown tired of the pilot’s repeatedly questioning their plan. “It be our best chance for success.”
“Copy that. Hold on tight, it’s about to get bumpy.”
“Understanding,” Trevis replied, turning to his team. “WSOs, be jacking in now.”
There was nothing for Trevis to do but watch and wait as the Explosions’ WSOs each linked their flight helmets to one of a pack of SEAW-304-LL shark light torpedoes in the outrigger pods.
G-forces slammed Trevis into his restraints when the pilot brought the dropship back to life. It twisted around him, engines roaring through the bay, and raced towards the carrier. Before him, a hologram tactical display sprang to life. Coherent light and plasma from the carrier seared their shields as the pilot brought them in on an attack run.
Hating this. He could do nothing until the dropship had emulated its bomber heritage.
Telsh held up a hand beside Trevis and began to count down on her fingers. Trevis turned to the hologram and watched a series of torpedoes stream from the outrigger pods. Trevis studied the hologram with the intensity of a general as the two lead torpedoes dove into the interference zone where the carrier’s dual ElectroMagnetic Toroid shields met. The torpedoes dove into the seemingly empty volume of space and exploded, disrupting the ion screen and blinding the sensors guiding the carrier’s graviton shields.
Twin spheres of light highlighted the temporary shield breach that the school of shark torpedoes dove through an instant later. Trevis’s sharp breath whistled as the last torpedo got in just before the ion screen closed up. Torpedoes three and four drove themselves into the rear shield emitters. They flattened against the arrays, the photon detonator crystals shattered, and fifty-metra diameter energy spheres atomized the matter within.
Trevis smiled as the next pair of torpedoes separated to destroy the upper rear main turret and the mid-ships communication array. The final two torpedoes streaked down the inside of the interior bay and detonated between the launch rails, snapping them.
“Door’s open, hold on,” the pilot hooted, and the bomber raced towards the rear of the carrier.
Just what I be needing to hear. Trevis slapped at his harness release, blood pumping with anticipation, and jumped to his feet. Telsh followed him a moment later and he handed her the helmet to her ACHES while she removed her WSO helmet. She will make a fine mother to our brood to come.
Telsh seemed to catch the look on his face and kicked at his boots in an attempt to disrupt the magnetic latch. “Be getting your head in the mission, Trevis.”
“Aye,” he replied and slid his way across the deck to the vehicle hatch. His mind back on the mission, he grabbed onto a tiedown in the deck and waited. A moment later the force of the dropship slamming into the flight deck of the carrier echoed up his legs. He grimaced at the feeling as the landing screamed through the superstructure like a Tomeris lion.
The ramp lowered, the walls of the flight-deck a blur as sparks cascaded from their landing gear. Smiling, he bounded out of the bay and led his four man bridge team behind the cover of the spherical landing gear before the dropship ground to a halt.
He took a quick scan of the bay. Deck hands raced towards them. He’d expected more of a stupor after their grand entrance, but shrugged it off. These men stood no chance against them, not equipped with only sidearms and plasma torches. “This deck be ours, clean these pests out!” Trevis ordered.
Weapons fire rang out in response. Precise shots from the Explosions tore through the unarmored deck hands. The survivors of the initial onslaught turned and ran for protective revetments and airlocks.
This be a slaughter, Trevis mused. Still, better to stop them here and not be letting them regroup.
He brought up his rifle towards another deckhand, the remnants of the destroyed launch rails beginning to fall like metallic snow against the deck with little tinks. He chuckled as a shot rang out, and the deckhand flopped towards the deck, his left leg no longer attached. Only a handful of metra from safety, the man crashed to the deck where his plaser discharged into a rack of anti-fighter missiles along the wall.
Trevis twisted around for cover before one of the missiles detonated, igniting a firestorm that cooked off the remaining weapons. Screams echoed back at them as more of the deck crew found themselves engulfed in the series of blasts. Trevis looked back and grinned as one of the missiles launched off the rack, catching a security forces soldier square in the chest as it rocketed out of the launch bay.
Trevis waved his hand twice around his head and bounded out from his position. The rest of his squad followed the order and, with the precision he’d drilled into them time and again, established a defensive perimeter around the dropship. From the corner of his eye Trevis caught two crewmen running from the inferno, their suits afire. Before he could bring his weapon to bear, two shots rang out from Telsh, and both men fell.
Trevis nodded. Mercy kills.
He scanned the deck again. Where be Security Forces? He flashed a quick glance to Telsh and she nodded. No fool be I, they be laying a trap. Trevis rolled out of the formation and flashed another hand signal to the pilot of the dropship. “They be onto us, need to be moving quicker than planned. Deploy defensive drones. We need to be moving.”
“Copy that. Drones are rolling.”
The doors to the outrigger pods opened and Trevis watched two dozen automated turrets scurry out to join the Explosions. The simple Synthetic Intelligence robots were little more than automatons with IFF receivers and visual recognition systems. Controlled by the dropship, they would maintain a defensive perimeter around it as the Explosions proceeded with their mission.
Trevis turned to the others after patting one of the robotic walking gun platforms. “Explosions, be moving out.”
They all nodded and separated. Trevis released his magnetic clamps and jumped for the ceiling, with Telsh, Porc and Nash following him.
Below them Ller led his team of Kink, Dibtel and Gadcon towards the open elevator to the lower hangar bay, cutting the distance to the engineering bay below them. Meanwhile Lindil bounded towards the stairs to flight control, Roilin, Ribtin and Dosher following her, canisters of knockout gas on their backs as they prepared to take the environmental control center.
Trevis fired the boost jets in the calves of his ACHES as he approached the overhead fighter racks. Three lines of Solaar Interceptors, Phantoms and Tigercats awaited them like sleeping bats. The sound of plaser fire drew his attention back as the environmental team stormed flight control. The shooting ended almost before it had begun, and the environmental team disappeared from view. Trevis’ tactical display fed him
their telemetry of a now empty room as they proceeded inside.
Nearing the overhead fighters, he turned back to them. He fired his jets one last time to counter the weak gravity and grabbed hold of the port heavy-mass-driver cannon slung beneath a Solaar Interceptor in its docking claw. He turned and watched as the rest of his team followed suit, most landing on the same craft as he did. Porc was one fighter back. Trevis signaled the others, and they clambered over the ovoid wing into the space above the fighter.
He hadn’t expected the space between the fighter and the ceiling to be so small, but then few things were built with Tomeris in mind, even on Confed ships. He signaled Nash towards the lead fighter in the line and proceeded aft. Looking over his shoulder, he nodded approval as Nash finished affixing a breach charge to one of the maintenance hatches into the space above them. He be quick, I be giving him that. As Trevis turned back, Nash crawled onto the next maintenance hatch, readying to attach another charge.
Itching to get moving, Trevis waited with the others for Nash to finish his line of breaching charges. He glanced at Telsh beside him—the lock breaker in her hand making quick work of the hatch’s electronic lock. He shot her a hard look when the device beeped back at her and the lock disengaged with an audible click. She just shrugged before Nash launched himself amongst the trio, setting his last charge two fighters forward of their position.
Trevis shook his head and slid in below the hatch. Setting himself for the assault he checked his visual filters and signaled Nash over the link. Blue Light.
The ten iris hatches ahead of them exploded into the maintenance bay above. Trevis tensed as the sound of running feat echoed from the ceiling above. Then the clap of plaser fire screamed out of the damaged hatches, men screaming and calling out. Trevis shook his head and keyed open the hatch above them.
He almost pitied the collection of technicians and pilots that greeted his view as he bound up through the hatch. This was not the time for that, however, and he opened fire into the amassed crewmen. Plaser fire ripped through the smoke-engulfed bay, Trevis and his team able to see through it with ease. The Geffers were not so lucky and moments later, nothing was left alive but the four of them.
GFS Cunningham, Flight Control Bay
Ribtin ran point ahead of the enviro-team as they rushed out of flight control. Weapon all but grafted to his hand, the Tomeris warrior bounded into the corridor, Dosher on his heels. Facing opposite each other, they dove into the low gravity corridor and surveyed the scene, their feet touching. Still not used to the micomm link, Ribtin tapped his partner’s foot to signal the all clear, then waved Lindil and Roilin into the corridor. The four of them kneeled side by side, watching each direction.
Curious as to why they had met no resistance after the firefight in the flight control bay, Ribtin checked their position on his map before Roilin signaled how to proceed. Ribtin wasted no time, grabbed hold of a waist-level handgrip on the wall, and gave it a squeeze. He lifted his feet out of the weak gravity field, the bar dragging him along while the others followed suit. Ribtin hated to admit it, but he liked how Galactic Federation’s gravity spinners lost gravitational potential so fast. It allowed even his bulk to remain buoyant in most passageways—a buoyancy the Explosions used to their advantage.
The handles slowed as they approached a cross passageway and Ribtin released his to roll to the deck. The higher gravity at the floor slowed him down, and he came to a halt at the corner of a cross passage. With Dosher beside him, he rolled across the intersection. No weapons fire greeted them and the cross passage was just as empty as the main passage they’d traversed. Ribtin’s blood went cool as he waved Lindil and Roilin across. Where be they?
They gathered back to back on the opposite side, each pointing their weapon down a separate corridor as they planned how to proceed. Even a ship this size should have more crew aboard than they had thus far encountered. The lack of contact could mean only one thing. They be digging in.
Lindil commented over the secure micomm link.
Ribtin nodded,
Roilin remained silent for a moment then shook his head.
Ribtin kicked his partner to get an answer out of him. How long it be taking to read a map?
Ribtin checked the map himself. Sure enough, the purification tank ran floor to ceiling in the environmental control bay, with a sealed maintenance hatch fitted into it the deck above.
Lindil remarked.
GFS Cunningham, Fighter Spares Bay
Jumping with a speed and power that even an augmented professional athlete would envy, Ller vaulted over the shattered shelf full of spare parts he had taken cover behind. The muscle fibers in his ACHES assisting him, he dove towards the low wall where Kink and Dibtel crouched. Plaser fire erupted from the alcove ahead of them, the GF security team doing their best to slow the engineering team’s advance.
Ller joined the other two and all three popped up to lay down covering fire for Gadcon. Heavy repeating plaser chattering away, the biggest member of the team ran to catch up with them. A lucky plaser round splashed against his armored shin, shattering the armor and he skidded to the deck in response. His momentum carried him near the others and Ller dragged him the rest of the way. He took just a moment to look at Gadcon’s shin, the bodyglove beneath was singed, but intact.
“I not be having fun anymore,” Gadcon called out over the rain of plaser fire as he examined the shattered reinforced ceramic armor. He sneered at the damage, pulled out a patch from one his pockets and slapped it over the breach. It wouldn’t protect him from another hit but it would reseal his suit.
“Grenade?” Dibtel asked, fingering one of the weapons on his chest.
Ller took a quick look over the wall at the mess of fallen shelves and equipment between them and the security team, before a mass driver round forced him back down. “If you think you can get one through that mess, be my guest. Just don’t waste it.”
“I ne’er ever do,” Dibtel replied and slapped one of the grenades onto a launcher on the back of his left arm. After tapping his helmet, he moved his arm about, searching for launch solution. He shook his head and motioned to the others. “Be covering me.”
They nodded and took their positions. Ller held up raised three fingers. He counted them down and, as his hand formed back into a fist, the four of them bounded to their feet. Ller and the others laid down covering fire as Dibtel jumped and fired through a gap in the mass of cover. They dropped back to the deck a centipulse later and listened for the grenade.
The blast reverberated through the chamber, moans and cries of pain following it.
Ller wasted no more time and raced towards the exit to the bay. Even knowing what to expect, the scene turned his stomach. Three of the security forces troops lay dead at his feet. Thrown back by the blast, their skin seared away by the plasma charge, they were the lucky ones. Ller turned towards the survivor as he crawled away with only one hand, his legs gone.
Before Ller could even consider what to do, Gadcon heaved up and fired two rounds into the back of the man’s head.
Ller considered reprimanding Gadcon, since the man was no threat, but the mission came first. He waved the others towards the door. “It’s not far now, but we lost too much time in here. Kink on point.”
Kink nodded a
nd took to the corridor, the rest following him, covering every angle as they proceeded down passageways to the main engineering bay. Ller didn’t bother to telling them to stop or slow down at the cross corridors. Guided by the maps in his visor, he instead had them lay down suppressive fire at each one as they rushed through. The sheer volume of fire took down anyone unlucky enough to face them before they’d got to the final corridor into main engineering.
As they approached, Kink held up a hand and slid forward. Using a flexible fiber cam on the barrel of his rifle, he peeked around the corner. An instant later, he plastered himself against the wall and scurried back to Ller and the rest.
Ller waited with a patience that was not his own, as Kink edged back towards them. “What did you see?” he asked once Kink had drawn near.
“Geffers, a whole mess of ‘em too. They’ve got a barrier wall up with at least three heavy repeating plasers guarding it. They’re ready for us, any suggestions?”
“Grenade?” Dibtel asked.
Ller reviewed the camera images and shook his head. “It might put a dent in that wall, but we can’t repel that firepower long enough for you to get a clean deflection shot behind it. Not with what we’re carrying anyway.”
“How about a missile?” Gadcon asked?
“You’re beginning to sound like Dib,” Ller replied. “And where are we going to find a missile?”
“The weapons bay be right next to the upper weapons magazine. All I need be doing is rig a single unguided rocket and send it down the corridor. I bet it be blowing that wall of theirs, and them, to bits,” Dibtel explained.
“It’s risky. If you miss, you can hit the reactor core. That door is open,” Ller explained. Their team was all about precision, and one bad shot in an engineering bay could spell disaster.
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