by William Lee
“Most of our people are not trained to use weapons,” Furier objected.
“An armed group of civilians is better than an unarmed group of civilians, in my opinion, Commander.”
“Okay, it’s better than sitting here doing nothing. But our first priority is food and clothing, our people could die from exposure before a single shot is fired.”
“Understood, Commander,” Sergeant Fabris responded.
“How do we get in and up to the crew’s quarter’s level? We can’t just take the elevator,” Furier said.
“No, it would have no power. We could take the stairs,” Fabris offered.
“The stairs would be a long walk through a lot of potentially unstable space. If a level were to collapse we may not be able to exit,” Commander Furier pointed out.
“We could fly the shuttle directly up to the level we want to access and break in from the shuttle as it hovers. Maybe, if we are lucky, we find a damaged area where there is already a hole in the superstructure for us to enter,” Situlas said. Situlas was the only other female on the mission with Furier. She was the loadmaster for the Impegi, her job had been to make sure weight was distributed evenly throughout the ship. She had worked with Furier, as she was Quartermaster, and they knew each other well.
Furier nodded her head in agreement, “But how do we break in? We have no cutting tools and the shuttle has no offensive weapons.”
“True, but we have two laser rifles. We could use them to burn a hole in a weak spot on the hull, maybe near a portal.”
“How long would it take to burn a hole through the hull of the ship?”
“Under normal circumstances, probably an hour. However, we may be able to find a weakened spot, maybe one that is already breached. We won’t know until we take a closer look.”
“Everybody, back in the shuttle. We are going to breach the hull and recover supplies for the survivors,” Commander Furier said.
The short shuttle ride to the tower was surreal. No one said a word, as they flew over the debris field that was once a magnificent spaceship. Most of the crew just stared out the portals taking in the destruction.
“Here we are. Looks like we are near what was level 10 of the tower,” the Commander said. The shuttle was hovering about five feet from the wall of the tower.
“Let’s fly around the whole tower, see if there is an opening or weak spot. We may not have an hour to burn an entrance with the laser rifles.”
The Commander maneuvered the shuttle away from the wall and around to the other side of the tower. There, they could see the command center blast doors were closed, as they should have been. However, several decks below that had sustained severe damage and the hull walls had been ripped away from the superstructure.
“Look, there’s an opening,” yelled Genu, as he pointed to the gash in the tower that was about the size of a residential home.
“Commander, if you can level off the shuttle, we can lower the rear ramp and step off into the tower,” Situlas said excitedly.
“Roger that,” Furier said as she brought the shuttle around and backed it up to the gaping hole in the side of the ship.
“Little bit closer,” Fabris said, as he pulled the manual lever to lower the rear ramp. The ramp slid down, leaving the back of the shuttle open to the elements. The cold wind rushed into the shuttle, not that they could feel it through their armor.
Fabris, standing on the edge of the ramp, looked down to the barren tundra below. “Must be at least a 150-foot drop, be careful.”
“I wish we had some safety harnesses,” Genu said as he gripped a handle bar by the ramp. “Look there, we can see straight into the galley.”
“Commander, we need to get a little bit closer. We are about seven feet from the tower wall. It’s not safe to jump yet,” Fabris said into his COM.
Commander Furier slowly edged the shuttle closer to the wall. “I can’t get any closer, and we got too much wind. It could blow us into the wall.”
“This should do it, four feet and we can jump,” Genu said.
“Jumping from a small shuttle onto a large stationary deck is one thing. Jumping back onto this moving shuttle from that deck will be something else entirely,” Fabris said, as he eyed the jump with suspicion.
“Commander, I’m jumping now. Hold her steady!” Genu yelled as he ran through the empty cargo bay to gain momentum for his jump.
Genu leapt from the shuttle and landed squarely in the galley, dropped to one knee, then rolled. The roll was not just from the momentum of the jump; the deck was no longer level, but had settled into an angle. Walking on the decks of the Impegi would be like walking up or down a steep hill.
Genu stood to his feet and held up both of his hands in the universal victory sign. The galley looked like a cyclone had run through it. All the furniture, plates, equipment and chairs had slid down to the lower side. The downward slope at which the ship had settled was not so steep that Genu could not stand on it; it just made walking more difficult.
Fabris jumped next and landed with equal grace, “Made it!” Catrix and Situlas both jumped from the shuttle.
From the ramp, Lignos said, “I’m next.”
“No, Lignos; no one else is going.”
“They may need my help.”
“They will definitely need your help when they are jumping back onto this shuttle, as it is bobbing up and down in the wind. The rest of you stand by the ramp and receive the supplies they bring to us.”
“Boarding party, we need food, clothing, blankets, medicine, and weapons. Retrieve them if you can, and bring them back to the shuttle.”
“Roger that, Commander.”
Over the next 20 minutes, the team recovered boxes of food, clothing, blankets and medicine. The team on the ship tossed the boxes and containers to the crew on the shuttle.
“I don’t see any weapons,” Commander Furier said over the COM.
“There is a collapsed bulkhead three decks down that is blocking the armory,” Fabris said.
“That reminds me, in the cargo hold we had some light armor and short-range attack craft. I wonder if any of that survived?” Commander Furier remarked.
“Hell, given that we are thousands of miles from friendlies, and I’m sure the locals are on their way, I’d love to find out,” Fabris said.
“And so, we will,” Commander Furier said. “So, we will.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Over the Pacific Ocean
Lightning Squad was seated in chairs along the interior walls of the craft, facing each other. The compartment where they sat did not appear to be triangular like the exterior of the craft.
Williams timidly sat in the sidewall seat next to the mountain of a man, known only as Bob. Bob was not wearing the hardened armor of a FALOS suit, but unlike the fixed-wing jet exercise, he was wearing a light-weight fabric armor and cold weather gear. Bob’s helmet that shielded his eyes displayed the same HUD and COM system as the rest of the squad. Next to Williams, Bob still looked like a giant.
“Hello,” Williams said to Bob. Bob turned to face Williams to acknowledge the greeting, but only grunted. Bob had what appeared to be a permanent scowl on his hard, weathered face.
Williams pressed further, “So, you are going to be working with us on this mission?”
Bob grunted again in recognition of the question and then tilted his head forward, his attempt at a nod.
Williams, determined to figure out the huge man, asked, “I see you are not wearing armor, why is that?”
“No need armor.” Bob’s deep voice and enunciation made each word sound like a sentence unto itself.
“Good evening, men,” a voice filled each of their HUD units. Then a live video feed flickered on the HUD in each of their helmets. It was a man they had never seen before.
“My name is General Byrd; I serve in the Air Force’s Space Command division. Your squad has been selected to execute a critical mission. Mission failure could upset the balance of global power f
or centuries. A few minutes ago, an interstellar space craft crashed in Far East Russia. This ship contained a rare and valuable element, known as Element 115. Element 115 is used in making ultra-lite, super strong anti-gravity fighter craft. The country that possesses this shipment will control the skies for the next 100 years.”
“This is Major Morgan Slade. Why was my squad picked for such a critical mission? We have not completed training. How do you know what was on a crashed interstellar space ship?”
“Excellent questions, Major Slade. You were not our first choice. Honestly, you were not our second choice, either. Unfortunately, due the extremely short window of opportunity to recover the cargo, your team was the one that could be scrambled the fastest. To answer your second question, we were expecting the shipment; it was coming from one of our off-world trading partners.”
“Off world trading partners, what the fuck?” Davis whispered. Of course, everyone could hear him. “Sorry,” he mumbled.
“You are in a TR3C anti-gravity plane. It was designed as part of the Aurora program. It will have you over the target area of Far East Russia in about 30 minutes. The nuclear-powered plane is incredibly fast and virtually undetectable by enemy radar. You will be on the ground before the Russians know you are there, hopefully, before their troops arrive on the scene. The mission, while it may be difficult to execute, is simple in plan: recover the Element 115 before the Russians realize it exists,” General Byrd explained.
“Secrecy is important on this mission. We cannot offer you support without starting World War Three. Your priority is to make certain the Russians do not discover your location. If you are discovered, then it will only be hours before you are overrun by their military. There is over 100,000 pounds of Element 115 on the crashed ship. You must locate and recover it before the Russians arrive. Engaging the Russians would be an act of last resort. If you are captured, we will deny affiliation.”
“What about the FALOS armor? If caught, won’t they be able to identify us by those?” Snap asked.
“We are not the only ones on the planet with that technology. It would be a stretch, but we would sell it.”
“Roger that, but how do we transport 100,000 pounds of Element 115 out of Russia undetected?” Snap asked.
“Another good question, Major,” the General said. “In a few minutes, a massive anti-gravity cargo plane, the NATT, will take off and head toward Far East Russia. That plane, while considerably slower than the one you are in, can carry thousands of tons of cargo. It has the most advanced stealth capabilities in the world and is nearly invisible to both electronic surveillance and the naked eye.”
“While that craft is traveling to your position, you will locate and remove the cargo from the wreckage. The NATT is capable of hovering and vertical takeoff; it will land near the crash site and you will load it up,” Byrd said.
“It seems like a simple plan, but what about the Russians? A large space ship crashed in their territory, won’t they be looking for it?”
“We anticipate that you will arrive minutes before they dispatch their jets for recon. We were expecting this space ship, they were not. They don’t know it is a space ship, much less that it holds valuable cargo. They will be sending high altitude jets to scan the area, not knowing for what to look. Eventually, they will send helicopters and paratroopers, but hopefully you will have removed the cargo by then,” Byrd said.
“General, why paratroopers?” Snap asked.
“You are being dropped in Far East Russia, in January. It is minus 47 degrees outside. All roads to the Magadan district are virtually unpassable. The only way in or out is by plane or helicopter,” Byrd said.
“Roger that, General. If we land minutes before the Russian jets do a flyover, how will they not see a crashed spaceship?” Snap asked, knowing that his FALOS armor would shield his heat signature from the enemy aircraft.
“That brings me to my next point, Major. We have a new piece of technology that is critical to this mission. We have a Projected Invisibility Dome, or PID. This device, about the size of a small truck, is capable of projecting a holographic image over a space the size of three football fields. It combines phased array optics with computational holography to project a three-dimensional image that will camouflage the ship from any direction, including the sky. It can project an image of anything we like, a building, forest, car lot, mall, bowling alley, anything. In this case, the PID will project an image of the surrounding terrain over the crashed ship. The device also acts to hide heat and radiation signatures. You will have to get that PID up within minutes of hitting the ground.”
“None of my men have been trained to use a PID. It is unlikely we can calibrate it with only minutes before the Russian jets arrive,” Snap complained.
“We have the scientist that developed it on site, he will walk you through each step via your HUD. If Russian ground troops arrive before you remove the cargo, you will need to take them out using the squad’s EMP rifle. You can’t risk them letting Russian Command know your location.”
Snap was puzzled by this. “Why would the Russians not know the location of the crash site?”
Radio silence.
“Um. They have several sites to check out. They will not know which site you are at until a recon unit reports back that they spotted the crashed ship.”
“Why are there multiple sites?”
Radio silence.
“That’s classified,” General Byrd answered.
Schematics of the Impegi and information about the Nordic survivors were downloaded into the squad’s HUD units. The briefing was completed and Admiral Byrd closed the communication link.
“Holy shit. We are invading Russia!” Williams said.
“I’m not worried about it; I can fuck up any Russian with my 100-kilowatt DE rifle,” Johnson said.
“These DE rifles can take out a tank or chopper, no problem,” Williams said. “Only good commie is a dead commie. Ha,” Smith said.
“Guys, remember what Ater and the General said. We’re not the only ones with these weapons and tech. Not to mention how the Large Grays have beat us in simulations. And, don’t forget about Bob. He’s an even match against one of us. It is very likely that we will not be up against simple Russian soldiers. We need to keep our eyes open and be prepared for the worst,” Neal said.
“You really think they would put us up against an army of Grays or a battalion of Bobs on our first mission?” Davis asked.
“This mission was not meant for us. Don’t forget that,” Snap said. “We are here because first string was not available.”
“Sounds like second and third strings were unavailable too,” Neal mumbled.
“Major Slade, I did not know there were any five-star General’s in the Air Force?” Williams asked. All of Lightning Squad had noticed the five stars on the General’s lapel.
“Neither did I, neither did I,” Snap replied, shaking his head. “Normally, five-star generals are only seen during war time.”
“Ten minutes to drop zone.” The unseen pilot’s voice was heard in the HUD units.
Snap stood to rally his unit. “Men, a few minutes ago we were in the DFAC. Now, we are about to leap from a plane over enemy territory to recover a priceless cargo from another world. You all heard the General; the stakes could not be higher. Failure could shift the balance of power for a century. The only thing standing against Russia achieving the resources to rule the world is this squad. Everyone, put on your FIGAS units; it’s time to earn those paychecks.”
Lightning Squad stood in the center of the compartment in front of their FIGAS jet wings that were hanging from the ceiling. The FIGAS jet wing easily snapped into place over the fusion reactor built into the back of their suits. Once snapped into place, the FIGAS system was powered by the fusion reactor. The FIGAS strapped on with a harness, like a back pack, and had a quick release lever that would allow the operator to quickly disconnect, if necessary. It also had a built in manual parachute for emergenci
es.
“Why do we have to fly down in this winged contraption?” Williams asked. “Couldn’t the pilot just land and let us off? This is an antigravity craft, right?”
“The craft has the ability to land vertically, but the longer an American plane stays in Russian airspace, the more likely it will be discovered. After the TR3C drops us off, it will immediately leave Russian airspace to avoid detection, probably through the Russian Air Defense Gap over the Artic,” Snap said.
The craft slowed. The ramp opened, revealing a semi-dark, sunless sky. The lights in the craft dimmed to red as a countdown clock started in each of their HUD units.
Snap placed each arm through a metallic harness that fit snuggly into his battle armor. He heard the clicking sound, like a seat belt, as the FIGAS wing became one with the FALOS suit. The HUD is his helmet lit up and began displaying automatic diagnostic checks. He noticed the countdown clock in the right hand of the display.
“Davis, Williams, push the equipment rover off the ramp,” Snap ordered. The two men pushed the truck-sized mobile unit off the ramp and into the purplish sky. The mobile rover unit had a self-guiding parachute with coordinates pre-programmed. Upon making landfall, it would automatically begin traveling toward the squad, guided by a tracking system that locked onto their location.
As the rover plummeted toward the ground, the squad made their final systems checks. Bob, the quiet giant, leapt from the craft with his special fabric armor and uniquely designed jet-wing. Neal jumped next. Half the men had jumped before it was Snap’s turn. Snap walked to the edge of the ramp; he could feel the wind whipping around him despite his heavy armor. All systems showed green in his HUD, he bent his knees and pushed himself away from the craft. For a moment, he was weightless, falling through space.
The jets on the tips of his eight-foot wingspan automatically engaged, keeping him level, face down toward the Earth. Snap had full mobility of his arms, his laser rifle held in his right hand. The location of the landing zone was programmed into the FALOS suit. Unless an enemy presented himself, Snap would only take control of the flight system moments before landing.
