by PJ Strebor
The landing boat’s sensor suite was a toy compared to Truculent’s power and sophistication. However, the LB had the advantage of proximity. It had taken the techs fourteen hours of meticulous tinkering to modify the LB’s sensors to cut through the interference. The readings were scratchy and distorted but gave a fair indication of the unfolding situation.
From his position beside the sensor suite Nathan heard what Cmdr Demianski told Redpath. He made it halfway to the hatch.
“Hold on, Telford,” the commander yelled. “Look at this before you go off half-cocked.”
Nathan’s forehead creased when he stared at the readouts. Headhunter reinforcements flooded from the shielded forward weapons bays. A macabre ballet played out on the sensor screen. The little red dots formed into much larger red dots, those dots bonded with others. They would attack O'Donnell's small force as soon as they formed into a single body. At least fifty headhunters against seven Athenians burdened with wounded civvies.
“Archibald,” Demianski snapped. The young rating ran to the commander's station and listened attentively. “Report to Sergeant Redpath on deck five, corridor two and inform him there are fifty-plus hostiles about to attack O'Donnell's position. Got it?”
Archie repeated the message.
“Good lass, now run like the wind, run.”
Archie leaped from the boat with the agility of a startled deer.
“What are your orders, sir?” Nathan asked.
“Prepare to repel boarders,” Demianski said, while he tracked Archie's running green icon.
“Look sharp,” Nathan said, as he stepped through the hatch. For no apparent reason his conversation with Cmdr Zoehrer sprang to mind. “No moral ambiguity today,” he whispered.
Moe nocked an arrow while Meta and Ozzie drew their swords. Dearkov caressed her ax. Nathan returned to the command station.
From the shielded engine room a second group of enemies emerged. Another fifty combatants had hidden behind internal shielding, awaiting the attack signal. With fifty charging from the bow and this huge group from the stern, Truculent's Strike Teams were about to be cut off and overrun.
One hundred armed combatants represented more personnel than a Badger class vessel normally carried. The second group divided. Thirty took the stairwell to deck three. A smaller group of twenty continued toward the midships-lateral corridor.
Nathan strode aft. A grin would have split his face but rage held it in check. Stay angry. Stay angry.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we’re about to entertain guests. Helmets on.” His helmet would get in the way of his shooting so it remained attached to his webbing. Moe assumed the position beside him.
“They’re pretty damn brave against unarmed civilians,” Nathan bellowed. “But we are not unarmed and we are not civilians.”
“Aye-aye sir,” they roared.
Nathan sensed their trepidation so began the old mantra.
“Headhunters,” Nathan called. “What are they?”
“Animals in human form,” the team replied.
Nathan heard the enemy well before he saw them. A raucous, shrieking cacophony that grew in intensity as the horde charged along the midships corridor.
He leaned into Moe's ear. “Nervous?”
Moe poked her tongue out. She knew what to do, where to fire. They had ten arrows each. Unlike their barbed hunting arrows, the target arrows had only a snub nose of composite material. A fragile wooden shaft against headhunter body armor.
“Headhunters. What are they?”
“Scum under our boots.”
Nathan glanced over his shoulder at the commander and nodded once. If the enemy overpowered Nathan’s small group of defenders the commander would have no alternative but to disengage the boat.
“Headhunters. What are they?”
“Child molesting motherless dogs.”
The deck under Nathan’s feet trembled as the enemy force rounded the far corner into the lateral corridor. Although fifty meters away, the headhunters looked huge. Their dark brown body armor did not show the individual tailoring of the Corps issue. Dark patches marked lovely big gaps at the joints of the headhunter's armor. Including at their torsos and necks. Nathan glanced at Moe. They both grinned.
“What do we do with animals?”
“Kill them quick and move onto the next.”
“On my signal, cut them up.”
“Aye-aye, sir.”
Stay angry. This one’s for you, Leo.
Nathan waited, waited. On a silent cue he and Moe fired at almost the same instant.
CHAPTER 54
Leorna ‘Archie’ Archibald slid down the ladder to the ship's lowest level, rolling as she hit the deck. Up and away in the same movement she ran as if her life depended on it. Which, in fact, it did. Archie did not see them but heard the terrifying roar of the enemy’s second wave charging from astern. Unlike her, cumbersome body armor and heavy weapons weighed them down. I am the swift gazelle and they the plodding rhinos. Mind you, if the rhinos catch the gazelle …
Her heart raced so fast she thought it would burst. What bayed at her heels drove her on. Ahead she made out the flankers from Alpha Team. Their weapons drawn and ready to cut her down. She waved her hands frantically – her headlong charge had taken her voice. When she reached the team she fell into their arms.
“What kept you, junior?” said one of the brutes.
She staggered past them and fell to her knees before Redpath. She wanted to make her report but only heaving gasps escaped her dry lips. Redpath patted her on the back.
“There you go lass, take it easy now.”
“Headhunters,” she managed to wheeze.
“Yes lass, where?”
She swallowed hard, held up five fingers, pointed forward and hit her palm quickly.
“Fifty-plus coming from the bow, fast,” Redpath interpreted.
“Many … from the stern. Don't … know how many. Lots.” News that they were surrounded and cut off from all assistance should have produced a grim response from the marine sergeant. Instead a canny grin crept onto his face. Archie decided right then she would never understand marines.
“Did they see you, Archie?”
“No … too quick … for them.” Redpath knows my name?
“All right lass, they’ll be coming for us now,” Redpath said. “They don't know you're down here so hotfoot it to corridor three and hide. When you can, make your way back to the boat. Tell the commander the entire enemy force is at our position. Have you got that Archie? The entire enemy force.”
Archie nodded and Redpath turned her sweating body around and pushed her down the side corridor. While she staggered away from the doomed team Redpath's voice grew to a bellowing crescendo.
“We will move forward and link up with Beta Team.” A slight pause. “Now damn you! Run!”
CHAPTER 55
Nathan stood shoulder to shoulder with Dearkov, careful to avoid being hacked to pieces by her swinging ax. He parried the Headhunter's blade and struck into the opening beneath his chin. Dearkov’s ax smashed another brown clad enemy with a horrendously violent blow to the helmet.
Meta and Ozzie covered the gaps from behind. A huge headhunter charged. Moe shot him in the stomach with her last arrow. The six remaining combatants gave ground. Through their visors terrified eyes said they wanted nothing to do with the crazed Monitor Corps demons. For the first time in the remarkably brief battle the odds were almost even.
When arrows started cutting them down the headhunter troops had been first surprised then shocked into inaction. Their broadswords were uncivilized weapons wielded clumsily by a barbarous species. They were no match for skilled exponents of the blade.
“You outnumbered us four to one and this is the best you can do?” Nathan roared.
The enemy’s nerves broke, they ran for their lives. Apparently Dearkov disliked running. She pulled Nathan aside, hoisted her ax over her head, sw
ung it three times and hurled it spinning toward the fleeing soldiers. The heavy ax smashed two headhunters across the back of their helmets. Their limp bodies dropped to the deck.
Nathan leapt over their inert bodies and sprinted after the remaining Pruessens.
The last four headhunters were fifty meters from the entrance to engineering. Safety was almost within their reach when Nathan caught up to the straggler. He struck under the straggler’s armor. The blade smashed past ribs to rip into the lung. When the enemy fell Nathan twisted his sword free from the body. Nathan swung his blade, catching the next enemy behind the knees. The headhunter screamed as he collapsed to the deck. Nathan ran on.
The last two glanced back at the blood-soaked devil who closed on them. Headhunters were opportunistic raiders used to attacking defenseless civilians. The sight of what pursued them caused them to whimper. They were ten meters from the engineering hatch when Nathan drew level with them. He swung his sword at the enemy’s head. The headhunter dropped to the deck, avoiding the blow. The sword continued, slicing the throat of the other one. He fell in a bloody heap.
Nathan skidded to a halt and rounded on the one he had missed.
The terrified scum had fallen to his knees his helmet thrown aside, hands raised.
“I surrender! I surrender! You’re Monitor Corps. You’ve gotta accept my surrender.” His eyes were huge, his bearded face covered with filth and sweat.
Nathan wrinkled his nose. All headhunters stank but this one had compounded his misery by soiling his armor. Nathan wanted to drive his sword through the wretch's eye. He hung onto a tiny wisp of humanity that hovered at the edge of his bloodlust madness.
“Name.”
“Huh?”
“What is your name?”
“Err, Himmel.”
Nathan knelt beside him.
“Himmel, I am going to ask you some questions.”
The interrogation proved him to be a dense thug, a blunt instrument too stupid to know anything except how to butcher civilians. Nathan leaned in close to him. “If I find you have lied to me …”
Himmel cringed.
A wave of nausea crashed over Nathan as he stood. Coming down from a massive adrenaline high had sapped his energy. He remembered the headhunter he had taken at the back of the knees.
When he turned around three middies and a blood-soaked petty officer stood in a loose group staring at him. What did he see in their eyes? Respect? Uncertainty? Shock? Fear? Did his friends fear him? He wanted to scream at them: They’re only Pruessens for Christ’s sake.
“Will someone get that for me, please?” he said, hooking a thumb over his shoulder at the cowering headhunter.
Nathan pushed past them and found the headless body of the last headhunter. Dearkov had not been in the mood to show mercy. He dragged his aching body back to the boat.
CHAPTER 56
Archie's heart beat so fast she thought the headhunters would hear it. She had barely slipped up the access ladder when a group of enemy troops passed below. If one of them had glanced up the access tube … When they were gone Archie continued on, her soft-soled footwear silent on the hard deck plates.
Alert for the tiniest sound, Archie silently jogged to corridor one on deck four. The clatter of tramping boots caused her skin to prickle. Archie spun the dog on the nearest hatch and ducked inside. When the stampeding boots faded, her heart started to beat again. She examined the large, dimly lit room and noted a long control panel positioned before a clear, rectangular view-plate. Totally by mistake she had wandered into the Cargo Control Center. Cautiously, she edged to the view-plate. Below, a scene of frenzied activity greeted her.
Against the starboard bulkhead a five-meter wide loading hatch was the single entry point into the hold. The hatch’s smashed locking mechanism hung from the wall. Sergeant Redpath shouted at the fourteen members of Alpha and Beta Teams, officers and enlisted alike. Archie quickly recognized what they were doing. With applied brute strength they were building an artificial corridor out of the available containers.
At the end of the hastily contrived passage they had cobbled together a shoulder-high barricade by stacking the smaller containers together. The headhunters would have to run the gauntlet of the three-meter wide corridor and scale the barricade to get to the good guys. The teams faced odds of more than six to one. By the weight of sheer numbers the enemy would overcome mere courage.
Behind the barricade the eighteen rescued civvies huddled in the far corner.
She repositioned to get a better view and a marine spotted her. Redpath glanced up winked and jerked his head aft. Archie got the message and stepped to the hatch. From somewhere in her memory, a school history class perhaps, the word Alamo came to mind.
CHAPTER 57
In the ten minutes since the battle ended, Nathan's bloodlust had cooled. His exhaustion faded to a numbing lethargy. However the ache in his chest had little to do with the sword blow to his breastplate.
The last time he had killed he employed surgically precise shots fired to stop creatures who were threatening his family. There had been distance to those engagements. This time he had been close enough to smell the enemy’s last breaths, feel the shuddering of their bodies as life deserted them. Close enough for their blood to splash across his armor.
Combat had a numbing effect but as the adrenaline bled away pain flooded in. Still, there was nothing to prevent him fighting on.
“Movement,” Ozzie said from his sentry post at the open hatch. Nathan leapt to his feet. “Ha!” Ozzie laughed. “It’s a female of the genus Lepus.”
At the end of the corridor, Archie froze at the sight of the battle’s gory aftermath. Her face turned white as she cautiously sidestepped the bloody corpses. Nathan caught her as she staggered through the hatch and cradled her head in his lap as she fell. Archie snatched the offered canteen with both hands, gulping down half its contents. Cmdr Demianski hovered, waiting with inhuman patience.
“Commander,” Archie gasped, “both teams … trapped … deck five.” She took another sip of water and leaned against Nathan's aching chest. “Sergeant Redpath … says he is … surrounded by … entire … headhunter force. He emphasized … the entire force, sir.”
The commander’s mouth stretched thin as he slowly nodded his head. He keyed his larynx mike. “Truculent, we have a go for Gamma Team. I say again, we have a go for Gamma Team.”
CHAPTER 58
“This is a simple enough plan,” Cmdr Barbara Grimmett said, “but theory doesn’t always follow planning. So we do this by the numbers, people. If we fuck this up many of our shipmates will pay the price.”
The four team members nodded thoughtfully.
Her comm beeped. “Grimmett.”
“You have a go, commander,” Waugh said. “Good hunting, Babs.”
“Roger that, skipper. LB three out.” Grimmett stepped onto the landing boat flight deck and tapped Chief Miller on the shoulder. The boat shuddered when the throttles pushed into the red zone. A minute later, after matching speed, it leapt from Truculent's topside.
Landing Boat three docked with Picaroon three minutes later. The boat hatch opened and Grimmett attached the tumbler to the headhunter's external hatch. While it worked on the combination she secured flat sensor suppressors to each corner of the external hatch. Without the suppressors set exactly in place her team would show on the enemy’s scans as soon as the hatch opened.
The tumbler clicked into place and the hatch opened. They made their way hastily to deck one without incident and minutes later approached the bridge from the stern. With a blinding flash, lighting came to life as the power was restored. They would now show up on the internal sensors.
“Go, go, go,” Grimmett yelled. Slinging swords and grasping energy weapons the team fell against the bridge hatch.
“Babs, you're going to have a whole lot of company in about three minutes,” Demianski reported.
“Terrific.”
/>
Grimmett attached the tumbler to the bridge hatch. While the last combination engaged, the five combatants steeled themselves to charge into the teeth of fire. With a final click the bridge hatch slid aside.
Gamma team stared with disbelief at the slab before them. Brilliant in its simplicity, the solid section of toughened battle steel stood as an impenetrable barrier between the team and their objective. No outside locking devices were visible.
“Harry, the shaped charge or the cutting torch?”
Matrakas went to work on the barrier with his cutting torch. His doubtful expression did not fill Babs with confidence. For a full minute he applied the torch to the unyielding hatch cover.
A sound reached her ears, stampeding feet on the deck plates, the shrieking cacophony of a headhunter charge.
“One minute, Babs, and you’ll be shit-deep in enemy troops,” Demianski warned. “Report your status.”
“Main hatch open,” Grimmett said. “There is a secondary hatch of toughened battle armor held in place by a manual locking system. I will use the shaped charge to try and gain access.”
“Hold on that. Harry, will the charge work?”
Matrakas’ mouth tightened. “Against battle armor it won't make a dent.”
“That's it then.”
“Hold on,” Grimmett snapped. “We can still – ”
“Commander,” Demianski said, “you will withdraw your team immediately. Confirm your orders.”
With ashes in her mouth Grimmett said, “Aye-aye, sir.”
“Get the hell out of there. Hostiles are approaching your position from forward and astern.”
“Moving now.”
***
When the lights came on Redpath grabbed his rifle.
“Everyone behind the barricade.”
A high-pitched squeal began to echo through the hold. A narrow shower of sparks sprinkled from the main hatch.
“Commander, do you read me?”
“Yes Rusty. Bring me up to date with your situation.”
