MissionSRX: Before Space Recon

by Matthew D. White

  “Sir, we’ve got fires in the cannon loaders!”

  “Seal them off, dammit! Seal everything!” Stone shouted, driving his fist into the workstation to his right, “We’re under attack!”

  The maintainers and surviving members of the command team were quickly relieved of their weapons but otherwise not harmed, evidently predicated on their lack of a response. They still appeared stunned on the monitor while the Aquillians bound their hands.

  The alien leader stopped short of the aft airlock just as it slammed shut, the ship-wide lockdown procedure sealing them in place. It looked around the room while several of its companions went for the control panel without a word. While they held an inaudible discussion on lifting the protocol, the leader strode next to the door and looked through the miniscule security camera perched in the corner of the adjacent bulkhead.

  It continued to stare back at the lieutenant through the camera feed and removed the captain’s pistol from its belt. It rapped the metal sidearm against the obstruction as if it was asking for the survivors to release the door and let them pass. The alien seemingly waited patiently while Stone considered their options. “Ideas…” he mumbled, “can we engage them? How long can we keep them contained?” he asked again.

  “Indefinitely but that’s only buying us time.”

  “Meyers, can you wrench their shuttle free? Blow the external airlock?”

  “Negative,” their pilot said, turning back from his view of the column of smoke which was snaking its way from the weapons deck up around the canopy, “I couldn’t even evade the transports and that was at full power.”

  The XO shook his head and continued to watch the alien in the monitor, “they want access to the aft passage; they must be after the cargo,” he balled his fists tighter, trying to force his hands to cease their constant twitching. Blood surged at his neckline from the elevated heart rate, “deploy the remaining security force to the far end of the hall. Anyone else down there, have them draw weapons and assist in the defense.”

  “What about us?” Toto, their sensor operator, asked the group.

  Stone heard the question but was consumed by the unfolding tragedy. The alien’s pacing grew faster and impatient. He gestured off-frame and two of the supporting creatures hauled one of the bound officers into the foreground. The man looked terrified as they kicked him to his knees. Their leader pointed at the camera once more and pressed the captain’s pistol hard into their prisoner’s throat.

  “Captain, we—“

  “Shhh,” Stone, now apparently promoted, didn’t move. The Aquillian shook his head as if to sigh and dropped the pistol. Stone briefly exhaled, realizing he had been holding his breath.

  With a silent flash, the alien put a single round into their man’s leg and let him fall. He thrashed wildly on the floor, spraying blood from the arterial laceration in his thigh. After waiting another second the alien drove its foot onto the man’s neck and put a second bullet through his face, shattering his skull and sending more material flying. Even without the sound of the gunshot, the remaining crew on the bridge jumped in unison, frozen in place by the act of inhumanity.

  The aliens appeared to feel nothing by the action and methodically pulled the next prisoner forward. Stone instantly identified it as Dove as they kicked her to the floor above the mechanic’s corpse. The alien drew the weapon once more and held it at the back of her head, shaking in fear, waiting again for the captain’s response.

  Part of Lieutenant Stone’s conscious screamed in his ears, telling him he couldn’t let the aliens get away with it. That he had to do something to save his crew members. The weight of responsibility crushed upon his chest as he considered their options. Their only hope of survival was to contain the aliens; it was over if they swept the rest of the ship. That likely meant sacrificing everyone who remained locked in with the aliens. Could he live with himself if he let that happen? His duty grew heavy as he wished he could trade places with the prisoners; he’d gladly give his life to see the rest survive.

  Stone’s mind wandered. The only other option was to open the doors sequentially and let them flow towards the remaining defenders. If he got his remaining command crew mobilized, they could even pin the aliens between two walls of fire. It would take a little coordination but they could probably pull it off. The pistol was still pointed at the back of Dove’s head.

  Something took the alien leader’s attention. It turned back to its companions by the control panel without firing the fatal shot. It looked from whatever they saw on the screen to Captain Hughes’ body.

  “Shit,” Toto groaned, “I think they just found the commander’s override.”

  “To the door?” Stone asked.

  “Yes. To all of them.”

  Beside the airlock, the two attending Aquillians left Dove bound and kneeling and dragged Captain Hughes’ corpse to the panel. The leader pulled a shiv from a deceased human soldier and with a sharp flick, carved around the captain’s face. Stone grimaced at the sight as the alien ripped the swath of skin from his face and jammed his exposed eye against the retinal scanner on the wall. The aft door released and swung aside, followed quickly by every other security door on the ship.

  On the bridge, both sealed entrances likewise released and slid open, instantly connecting Stone and the others to the skirmish that had been ensuing only a single deck away. The smell of smoke and spent gunpowder drifted through.

  “Cap’n, the fire just breached the loading compartment,” Gunner reported, “one more deck and it’ll be here.”

  3

  Lieutenant Kael sat against the rear wall of his ship’s command deck, awaiting the location report from the shuttle’s crew. At this point in the flight, he was little more than a passenger along with the others. He was certainly used to being driven around in cramped vehicles so he and his teams could kick down doors and break things but that didn’t mean it was the highlight of his day; he far preferred total control and autonomy. The time wasted just sitting on the deck was nearly as criminal as the time lost by the battles themselves.

  “Full scan complete. Negative contact across all frequencies,” the sensor operator gave the oft-repeated line to the room.

  Kael let his head roll, hitting the wall with a thud. Ahead of him, Ensign Lane, seated in the captain’s chair, mashed his palms into his temples. He turned back and stared down at the infantry officer.

  “We’re running out of places to look,” Lane said.

  “Space is pretty damn big to be turning in this early,” Kael snapped, “I’m not about to give up on them.”

  “Noted, but we’ve gone halfway across the effing galactic arm without a sign of the Defiance,” The ensign waved his arms, “I’m not a magician up here; there’s only so much we can do.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Kael replied and paused while considering his tactics. Force wouldn’t get a response from the ensign; neither would coercion, “Do you want a loss on your record, or do you want a recovery?” Kael asked the captain, “You know what they were carrying, right?”

  “Hell kinda’ question is that? How ‘bout no and no,” Lane snapped before letting his frustration subside. He thought through their remaining options, “We’re almost back to Earth as it is. If we just go back and try to retrace their flight, we might have more luck.”

  “That doesn’t sound a whole lot better than what we’re already doing.”

  “If you’ve got tons of experience crammed in your jarhead-dropout skull, I’d be happy to hear the full dissertation! You asked, and this is the best I’ve got. Start over and we can at least hope to follow their path through each jump.”

  A response and a course of action was better than whining. Kael nodded, “well, in that case I’ll defer to your judgment. I’ll let my guys know we’re going to be flying a while longer.”

  **

  “That’s got it,” Stone said more to himself than any of the remaining crew members on the Defiance’s bridge. He released the final bolt on th
e inside of the airlock and with the help of his companions, swung it shut. The heavy metal shield slid into position and the lieutenant engaged the mechanical secondary latch.

  He wasn’t about to lie to himself that it would provide any real protection; the same control was on the side facing the external airlock along with their attackers. The operation would however, hide their movements and with any luck serve to slow the spread of the fire if they decided to run. Stone looked back to the pilot, “How are we doing downstairs?

  “It’s still burning through the ammunition,” Meyers replied, “none of the suppression systems are responding. If it ruptures the bulkhead, we’ll know it.”

  “Captain, security team is reporting smoke rolling through the starboard access hallway. No video feed but suspect contact imminent.”

  Lieutenant Stone felt the crew’s eyes fall upon him once again. There were six of them left on the bridge and able to fight. The aliens still had their communications officer and three maintainers held hostage. If they were very lucky, they’d still be alive. From the locker on the command deck, each of Stone’s companions had a standard-issue combat rifle and a bare minimum of ammunition.

  “If we run, we can catch them at one of the intersections,” Toto said, “maybe between us and the security force we can overpower them.”

  The circle of faces showed a mix of shock, fear and anger. While skilled at their respective functions, Lieutenant Stone wasn’t convinced they’d be effective soldiers. He was only mildly confident he wouldn’t get shot in the back by accident on the run over. Hell, this was probably the first time the security team had to defend a ship, much less his command crew.

  “If that’s the best solution, I can’t make the call,” Stone said, “our function is on the bridge unless we call the Defiance lost and evacuate. Knowing that we are ineffective, I see no reason for us to stay. The best we can do is defend the cargo until assistance arrives,” he looked around the circle again, “Meyers, I do need you to stay here.”

  “But—“

  “No,” Stone cut the pilot off, “if there’s a chance to break off, take it. I need you here in case a rescue arrives or if we have the opportunity to run. If the fire spreads, evacuate or retreat.”

  He paused again for objections but heard none, “then we’re off. Open a comm line with the security team and tell them we’ll cover the adjacent hallway. No heroics on our end; just keep them contained until security can move up and clean them out.”

  As the lieutenant stepped across the boundary of the command deck and into the upper hallway, he felt a gripping sense of unease pass over him. No longer was the Spartan freighter his home; it was now a foreign battlefield and a jungle within which his destiny awaited.

  Every surface gained in sudden detail and significance, as if his mind was taking in his surroundings for the first time all over again. Each dent in the wall was a testament to a mishandled pallet. The access ports he had fought with while attempting to debug their broken systems. He attempted to beat the sensation back with one of hope. While they jogged down the passage, Stone reminded himself that it was their home and they had every advantage. He knew every corner, room and passage from bow to stern.

  They hit a wide set of stairs which stretched between the three primary decks and took it to the upper level, remembering to carefully check the top edge with his rifle before exposing his cranium. The immediate area was clear of any out of the ordinary aside from a layer of black smoke that floated near the ceiling despite the whining circulators. Aft another twenty meters and they’d hit a connecting hallway that would intersect the docking area which was still under alien control.

  “We’re all clear, come on,” he whispered back to his makeshift security force. They silently cleared the stairwell and lined up on the inner wall, covering the hall in both sprawling directions. The gray metallic walls, corroded from years of service and abuse, appeared extra dull in the harsh, artificial light supported by the lieutenant’s swirling thoughts.

  The sudden echoes of distant gunfire broke him out of the brief personal reflection. He jumped as the first random grenade exploded at the end of the corridor with its rolling, concussive blast swiping past his team, “we’re out of time!” he snapped and again they broke into a run.

  Switching to his radio, the Lieutenant keyed up the security force without stopping, “Archer, this is XO Stone, I’ve got a six-man fire team on our way to assist. We’re in the port hall across from you, ahead of the intersection. Ready to engage on your go.”

  “Stone! Glad you’re alive!” came the sharp response from the far side of the ship. A flurry of shots echoed both from within the speaker and down the hallway. Steams of shouts and curses followed in the background.

  “Dammit, shoot that thing!” Archer exclaimed over another burst of rifle fire. His breath was labored across the channel while he fumbled along, “alright, I’m under cover at the aft corner,” he finally replied, “look, those things are determined to get at the lift to the cargo bay. We’ve probably tagged ten of them already but there’s no telling for sure. They dropped smoke all along the hall to cover their movements. We’re fighting blind over here.”

  Stone came to a halt at the corner of the connecting hallway and peered around. Dark smoke hung low in the air, illuminated by the occasional refracted muzzle flash, “are they bringing up reinforcements? They didn’t even have that many in the landing team.”

  “Must be. I thought your guy said they only scavenged half-a-dozen weapons?”

  “They did but they must have found more,” Stone replied, “I see smoke but no movement at the corner. Maybe they don’t know about it.”

  “Ha. Shitty intelligence and they insist on taking the direct route. We might still clean them up yet.”

  “Any sign of the hostages?” Stone asked, looking around the other crew members beside him.

  “Negative. Careful if you see them; I don’t trust those bastards not to pack them with explosives,” Archer paused with a sigh, “can you close off their ship?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Can you shut the airlock so they can’t keep dumping guys off? You’ll have to secure the landing and trap them in the hall. Once you’ve got it closed, fall back and my guys will move in.”

  Stone got a nod from the ensign beside him, “I think so.”

  Gunner spoke up, “we just have to cycle the doors. Captain’s body is still up there, right?”

  The thought sickened the XO but he concurred, “On it. Standby,” he replied to Archer before switching off his radio. Stone turned his focus to the fire team, “we’ve got our orders. Get to the right wall, clear the landing. Gunner, get to the panel. I’ll get the captain. Everyone else, cover the hall and airlock. Don’t engage unless you need to.”

  At the far end, Stone took a deep breath and swung out like a door, covering the aft starboard hallway. The entire passage was thick with smoke and his vision gave out in only ten meters. He made out no movement so together they crept forward with heads low and weapons drawn.

  The landing was just ahead and Stone went by feeling as much as he did by sight. Pools of blood had congealed across the floor around the bodies of several maintainers and a few fallen aliens. Most looked to have been drug back from the battle down the hall and had been heaped along the walls.

  “Clear. No movement,” Stone declared and heard the call echoed around the room, “Gunner, get the door. Cover me,” he ordered, ducking to pull apart the mass of corpses and find Captain Hughes.

  “Contact front!” Stone barely took a step before one of the crew shouted out and pushed him to the floor, leveling a rifle down the passage above his head.

  The lieutenant’s concentration left with a roaring volley of rifle fire above his head. The proximity made the exchange deafening and he dropped to the ground, unable to make out anything until an alien collapsed on the deck before him, half its face carved away by the last burst of lead.

  He couldn’t see,
couldn’t hear and could barely sense his own hands. They no longer had an advantage and they were out of time. If he couldn’t get the doors, they’d be finished.

  The captain’s dark cloak and silver rank stood out among the others in the pile. Stone pawed his way through the mass and grabbed the corpse by the back of the neck, heaving it out onto the open floor. Still in a low crawl, he pulled it towards the outer airlock where Gunner was already waiting.

  He fought for every centimeter of the rough metal floor, digging his fingers into any crevice he could find and half-sliding on the coating of blood. The panel was just ahead. Stone pulled himself to his knees, out of the way of the defenders watching the Aquillian shuttle and fell towards the wall.

  Gunner gripped the corpse by the arm and pulled it up. The lieutenant did the same, grasping its scalp to access the retinal scanner but stopped. Every bit of the captain’s face had been carved away.

  Whether by hand or machine, Hughes face had been filleted to nothing but bone and ligament. His eyes were gone, diced by a sharp blade and his teeth appeared to have been broken by the stock of a rifle. Stone groaned aloud in exhaustion. He jammed the corpse’s face against the sensor, willing the system to feel their anguish. An alarm blared in denial. The door remained open.

  He tried again and caught his foot on growing mass of blood around their feet. The XO tumbled to the deck, losing his grip on the captain’s body which fell beside him. Stone looked up at Gunner. “Can you find an override? Anything to force it closed?” He asked, shouting above his own ringing ears.

  Gunner thought for a moment and raised a finger with a nod. He turned back to the panel to investigate. Safety dictated some sort of an override, even if it was a completely manual sequence, Stone realized. He had probably been trained on it years back and never actually put the skill into practice.

  The lieutenant concentrated on the operation and pulling his mind back to center while the others continued firing at unseen enemies farther out. If they closed the external port to the Aquillian landing ship, there was no guarantee they wouldn’t just open the door again as soon as his crew pulled back. He spied the medical cabinet across the room and had an idea.