by PP Corcoran
Thunder was on the move.
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PLANET IV - 23 LIBRAE SYSTEM - 83.7 LIGHT YEARS FROM EARTH
The muzzle of Vladimir Egnorov's plasma rifle slid snake-like through the tall grass and came to a stop just as it cleared the last stalk, enough to allow the passive optical sight mounted on it to give him a clear view of the flat plain below and the clear plasteel dome housing the captured base. So far, the operation was going like clockwork. The two specially modified Excalibur-class assault ships the navy put at Egnorov’s disposal to carry his Thunder troopers to 23 Librae system had worked as advertised. For months, the scientists and engineers on Zarmina had been redesigning and reengineering the Excaliburs to tailor them to Thunder’s specific requirements. The ability to insert a large force of troopers and all their equipment into a target and get back out without being detected. The Excaliburs reentered normal space on the opposite side of the planet from the base and the Buffalo troop shuttles ferried his troopers from low orbit and flew below the radar horizon of the base until they reached Egnorov’s chosen landing zone in a valley only eleven kilometers from the target. There had been no sign of the Deres ship in orbit above the base having detected the Buffalos approach, no doubt due once more to the inventiveness of the Zarmina research teams, who had added a few tweaks of their own concoction to the standard Chameleon stealth units integrated into the Buffalos.
On arrival at the landing zone, the Buffalos powered down every nonessential system to reduce any chance of detection while the Thunder troopers disembarked and formed up, ready for the approach march to the objective. The Wraith suits worn by the troopers adapted to the environment around them, and within moments each trooper disappeared like a ghost into the misty rain that was beginning to fall, their individual footsteps muffled by the damp ground. Without the aid of his suit’s sensors, Egnorov would never have been able to tell that he was surrounded by 300 of the best soldiers the Commonwealth had to offer.
Back to business. It appeared Andreas’ interpretation of the thermal scans was correct. Evenly spaced around the perimeter of the dome were Deres weapons emplacements reinforced by earth works and sporting a heavy machine gun and infantry section. By the main airlock, guarded by yet another weapons emplacement, were four shuttles, their crews milling around the rear loading ramps. Hanging from each of the sharply raked wings was a weapons’ pylon with six evil-looking missiles. At either side of the cockpit windows was an ovoid protrusion with a hole pointing forward. If Egnorov was to make an educated guess, each of those protrusions was rapid-fire cannon of some sort. The navy's thermal scans had shown six of these shuttles in use by the Deres, so where the hell were the other two? In answer to his silent question, his suit’s external pick-up brought him the sound of rapidly approaching turbo fans. Seconds later, two Deres shuttles screamed low over the long grass concealing his position, and banked sharply. One shuttle continued its turn, gaining height, and began a long, lazy circling of the base. The second shuttle’s nose dipped as its pilots brought it to a hover before slowly descending to touch down a short distance from the other, already-grounded shuttles. As the engine noise died, Egnorov saw a group of soldiers rushing forward under a cajoling officer who quickly formed them into a perfectly straight line. The rear ramp lowered and barely had a chance to touch the wet ground before a large Deres was out, his head scanning left and right like a bird of prey searching for its next victim. Bodyguard! Egnorov thought. Somebody important must be on the shuttle. Seemingly satisfied, the Deres stepped to one side and a second figure descended the ramp at a more sedate pace. The waiting soldiers sprang to attention and presented arms. With a dismissive wave that passed for a salute, the senior officer strolled past the assembled soldiers and, accompanied by the bodyguard and the officer from the arrival party, he headed for the airlock leading into the base. Egnorov tracked their progress through his weapon’s sight until he lost sight of the small party as they entered the airlock. The double tone in his ear bug focused his attention onto his suit’s heads-up display. Andreas was signaling that all the assault teams were in position. In the top-left corner of the display, the numbers of the countdown clock marched on remorselessly. Twenty minutes until the approaching Deres fleet were within weapons range of the Commonwealth cruiser squadron. If the Deres were still in control of the base and its hostages when the clock reached zero, then Commodore Mkhize would be forced to withdraw and the Deres would have won. Thunder and Egnorov were here to ensure this did not happen. With a final check on his troopers’ positions, Egnorov activated his suit’s link.
"All Thunder units, this is Egnorov. Strike! Strike! Strike!"
In a split-second, all hell broke loose. This was no silent assault. Thunder was coming in noisy. Each of the Deres weapons emplacements had its own dedicated Thunder fire team assigned to it. At Egnorov's order, the emplacements fell under plasma rifle fire from the concealed troopers. The boiling plasma cut through the earthen defenses as though they were nonexistent. The Deres soldiers staffing them were given no chance to react before the hail of incoming fire cut them down. However, Egnorov was taking no chances, and a volley of High Velocity Missiles streaked forward. The HVMs pummeled the emplacements to dust.
From the high ground above the shuttle landing area came more withering plasma-rifle fire targeted at the hapless shuttle crew. They died where they stood. The circling shuttle didn't have to wait long to share the same fate as its grounded comrades. Egnorov had no way of knowing how many of the Deres shuttles would be airborne when he began his assault, so in the tradition of more is better than less, his plan called for two anti-air teams per shuttle. With only the one shuttle in the air as the assault launched, all twelve teams turned their missiles onto the sole remaining air threat. Team three would later claim to have downed the shuttle, but with twelve missiles accelerating past Mach three in the few seconds the shuttle had to react, no one would ever know. What Egnorov did know was that the ear-shattering explosion and ball of flame and falling wreckage meant that the Deres air threat was dealt with.
With the perimeter defenses down, the dome assault teams moved up. The assault teams were not going to waste time cycling through the dome’s airlock. Instead, they made their own doors. Troopers carrying frame charges placed them against the plasteel dome walls and stepped back out of the shaped charges blast area. With muffled bangs, Thunder blew eight large holes in the dome and the troopers went pouring through, ignoring the air escaping from the dome as nature fought to equalize the pressure differential. Assault teams headed for their assigned objectives.
"Let’s go, RSM." Egnorov cried over his link. Eager to join the assault, he stood and headed for the nearest breach, trailed by the RSM and the two other troopers making up his escort. The Wraith suit’s powerful artificial muscles pushed him along at forty kilometers an hour. Reaching the breach, the heavy, armored hand of the RSM on his shoulder momentarily restrained Egnorov as he bent to enter the gloom.
"Ladies first, sir, if you don't mind," said Sergeant Nesy Preuss as she pushed through the breach, rifle up and hunting for anything even resembling a possible threat to her boss. "Clear!"
Egnorov stepped through the shattered plasteel with the RSM and Staff Sergeant Semple at his heels. The sight that greeted Egnorov was one of cold, clinical death. Scattered around the breach lay dozens of Deres soldiers. The Thunder troopers’ orders were simple and explicit. Every Deres in uniform was to be treated as a combatant and was to be neutralized with extreme prejudice. The sight of so many dead Deres was testament to those orders. Egnorov didn't give his order a second thought. This was combat and his mission was the safety of the hostages first. Over the open command link, he heard the call he was waiting for.
"Red Team. Building Four secure. Two X-Rays dead. Five Yankees alive and well."
Egnorov let out a silent yes! Building Four was the power station. X-Rays were enemy soldiers and Yankees were hostages. Red Team’s success was quickly followed by more as the Thun
der troopers spread out over the base.
"Blue Team. Building Seven secure. Five X-Rays dead. Four Yankees alive and well." That would be the medical center and its staff.
"Yellow Team. Building Two secure. Four X-Rays dead. Thirty-eight Yankees alive and well." Egnorov said a silent thank you to God. Yellow Team’s objective was the main mess hall and the naval data had shown it to hold the largest concentration of thermal signatures, leading Egnorov and his planners to believe this was where the majority of the hostages were being held. The message from Yellow Team confirmed this.
"Green Team. Building Six secure. One X-Ray dead. Fifteen Novembers alive and well." November was the designation which had been given to the Deres scientific party that has been working on the base when the Deres soldiers overran it. Fifteen would account for all but one of them.
"White Team. Building Five secure. Two X-Rays dead." That would be the entrance to the elevator shaft leading down to the cavern holding the Saiph library five kilometers below them.
"Orange Team. Building Three secure." The supply building. Egnorov was not expecting it to be guarded as it held nothing of any value, but a team was assigned to it in case any Deres soldiers had decided to hole up in it.
With only one building left, Egnorov did a quick head count. By his math, he was short two Yankees and one November. The echoing sound of automatic weapons fire told him where he was likely to find them.
"OK, RSM, sounds like Black Team is having some trouble getting into the Operations Building. Let’s head over there and see if we can give them a hand, shall we?"
Egnorov was sure he heard the RSM use a derogatory term regarding officers over the open link before his mind switched gears and he raced for the sound of the gunfire. Sliding to a halt at the corner of the mess hall, he decided it would be better to use the optics mounted on his rifle to see around the corner, rather than stick his head out. Pushing the muzzle of the weapon around the building’s edge, his HUD gave him a clear view of what awaited him. Deres soldiers firing from the top floor of the two-story Operations Building pinned down the majority of Black Team. A small number of team members were trying to infiltrate the flanks of the building, but every time they exposed themselves, they were forced back by the sheer weight of fire. Egnorov zoomed in on the ground floor windows and he was able to make out the unmistakable shapes of armed Deres, waiting patiently to fire on anyone attempting to approach from this side. Egnorov estimated that the Deres had maybe a twenty-meter clear field of fire around the entire Operations Building. Yeah, if he were going to hole up anywhere, then this would be the place. A movement in the HUD and a split-second later the corner of the building Egnorov was sheltering behind began taking fire. Back-pedaling away from the hail of fire, Egnorov weighed up his options. With the rest of the base secure, he could just wait out the Deres who were holed up in the Operations Building. It wasn’t as if they could go anywhere. On the other hand, they still had two hostages and one noncombatant in there. What if they decided to execute the hostages as they previously threatened to do? The countdown clock in the HUD was down to seven minutes. Seven minutes separated the success of the mission from failure. No, the building had to be taken.
"RSM, here’s the plan. You and Preuss take up sniper positions on this roof, it should give you a good angle onto the side of the Operations Building facing us. Semple, you’re with me. Hope you remembered your flash bangs."
With a small chuckle, Semple patted his suit’s leg pouch. "Never leave home without them, sir."
Inside his helmet, Egnorov grinned. "Good man. Suit. Command channel. Black Six. Black Six. Egnorov."
The frustrated voice of Captain Barshai, Black Team’s commander came back. "Go for Black Six."
"In thirty seconds I want you to lay down covering fire on the north and west aspects of your target. Watch for friendlies approaching from the east."
"Understood thirty seconds."
"Egnorov clear... RSM?"
From the tone in his voice, it was obvious the RSM was unhappy with the way things were unfolding. "Overheard, sir. We've got your back."
"I would expect nothing less, RSM."
A fusillade of plasma rifle fire from Black Team told him it was time to move. Crouching low like a sprinter, he burst out of cover and ran for all he was worth for the Operations Building, Semple by his side. The Deres standing guard at the windows caught sight of him and brought their weapons up to fire. Still ten meters to go. He wasn't going to make it. The Deres heads exploded in a fountain of blood and bone as single, precision shots from the RSM and Preuss serviced their targets. Breathing heavily, Egnorov crashed into the wall of Operations Building. The actual Operations Room was located on the upper floor of the building, so Egnorov was hedging his bets that that was where any hostages would be held. Keeping a wary eye on the nearest window, he called to Semple.
"Breacher!"
Semple was ahead of him. The staff sergeant was already pulling the coil of explosives from his left leg pouch and was pressing it hard against the wall in a rough oval, large enough for a Wraith-suited person to fit through. When he was finished laying the breaching charge, Semple reached into his other leg pouch, extracted two grapefruit-sized objects, and passed them to Egnorov. Another two appeared and were duly attached to his waist. Flash bangs. The weapon of choice when entering a room that contained both X-Rays and Yankees, the flash bang was a type of concussion grenade. Flung into a room, it exploded with a blinding light and a high-pitched sound, which blinded, deafened, and disoriented anyone in the room. The effects, though instant, were also temporary, so no permanent harm was done, but it did give assaulting troopers a window of a vital few seconds to enter a room and deal with any threats.
"Ready, Semple?"
"Just like old times, sir."
"Let’s do this!" Egnorov activated the link to Black Team and the RSM. "Breaching lower level now, switch fire to upper floors."
Semple tapped a command into his suit and the breaching charge went off, rocking the two troopers back on their heels. With the debris still flying through the air, Egnorov was through the breach and into the smoke-filled room beyond. Two Deres soldiers were on the ground, trying to struggle to their feet. Egnorov's rifle barked twice and they stopped moving.
"Two X-Rays dead, east room, ground level."
Semple moved past him to the open doorway. Flattening himself against the wall, he stuck his rifle barrel around the door frame and swept the corridor in both directions.
"One X-Ray at either end, sir. Stairway to the right. Door to another room to the left."
Egnorov stepped over to him, placing himself so they were now standing back to back.
"Three. Two. One. Step."
Like a well-practiced dance team, Egnorov and Semple took a single side step, placing themselves square in the middle of the corridor, weapons already lined up on their targets. The Deres were too busy concentrating out the windows to even notice that the reaper was ready to take them. Egnorov and Semple fired simultaneously.
"Two X-Rays dead, corridor, ground level."
Flash bang in hand, Egnorov approached the closed door to the remaining ground floor room. Semple braced himself, and with a kick the door flew open. His mechanically assisted kick actually took the door clean off its hinges, sending it flying into the room and into a hapless Deres soldier waiting to target anyone coming inside. With a deft lob, Egnorov sent the flash bang into the center of the room. Prepared for what was coming next, the two troopers had their visors dimmed and their external audio turned down. The Deres weren't so lucky. The blinding flash and high-decibel scream caused them to drop their rifles as hands flew, too late, to protect ear drums and eyes squeezed shut to no avail as black spots continued to dance on their retinas.
Egnorov and Semple entered the room on the heels of the detonating flash bang, methodically working targets from opposite corners in toward the center of the room. It was all over in a matter of seconds.
"Three
X-Rays dead, west room, ground level. Moving to upper level. Black Team, check fire! Check fire!"
With the check fire order, both Black Team and the RSM would stop firing on the upper level of the Operations Building, leaving only Egnorov and Semple to deal with any Deres they encountered.
The two Thunder troopers moved back into the corridor and headed for the stairwell, reloading their spent rifles’ charge packs as they moved. Switching to thermal vision, Egnorov scanned the stairwell and the ceiling directly above him. The brighter red of two heat sources showed up plainly against the cooler blue permacrete. Two Deres were in ambush position covering the top of the stairs, waiting to greet the unwary. Well, two can play at this game, thought Egnorov. Throwing the image across to Semple's suit he raised his rifle and aimed at the ceiling. Taking his cue from Egnorov, Semple also took aim at the ceiling.
"Full auto on three. Two. One. Fire!"
The narrow corridor filled with the ear-shattering sound of two plasma rifles discharging superheated rounds into the permacrete roof as fast as the weapons systems could cycle. The plasma tore through the permacrete, the waiting Deres soldiers, and carried on through the roof of the building. Egnorov plunged into the thick dust, relying on his thermals to guide him up the stairs. With the threat now negated at the head of the stairs, he leapt over the two large holes in the floor, which had just held the Deres waiting in ambush for him. On his right was a partially open doorway. Slowing his head-long dash, he palmed a flash bang through the gap. Semple saw Egnorov's action and held himself at the stairwell for an extra second before bounding forward. As he cleared the demolished floor, the flash bang detonated and Semple took the door at the run, Egnorov swooping in behind him. Plasma rifles spat and more enemy soldiers were sent to meet their fate.
"Two X-Rays dead, west room, upper level."
That confirmed it. The hostages must be in the Operations Room. Egnorov was out of flash bangs, so it would be his turn to be doorman. Bracing himself, he raised his leg and smashed it into the door, which splintered and fell off its hinges. Semple was ready and two flash bangs followed the door. But whoever was in the room must have had the reactions of a cat. Egnorov didn't have time to get clear of the doorway as machine-pistol rounds hammered into his chest armor, knocking him off his feet. Semple saw him go down as the flash bangs detonated. He didn't hesitate. Rifle up, he flung himself into the Operations Room. Standing directly opposite the doorway was the biggest Deres he had ever seen. Grasped in one large hand was a compact machine pistol. The other hand rubbed at his eyes to clear his vision. Semple didn't give him the chance. His finger caressed the trigger of his rifle. One round took the Deres in the center of his chest, punching through his rib cage, and exiting his back, taking the contents of his chest cavity with it. The second round removed his head from his shoulders. Spinning in place, Semple’s rifle sighted on his next target. An older Deres in a more flashy uniform was trying to push himself behind a human female while struggling to pull a pistol from its holster. Two paces forward and Semple grabbed the Deres by the throat. The Wraith suit’s motors whined as the unfortunate Deres was picked up and flung across the room. Egnorov regained his footing and was entering the room, searching for targets. The sight of the flying Deres in uniform was enough as his combat instincts kicked in and his rifle seemed to fire of its own accord. The Deres was dead before he hit the ground.
