by John Walker
The relief craft came down, forming a line with their backs away from the enemy. Ramps dropped. The people divided up, rushing to fill them. That’s when the Kahl charged. All the remaining enemy forces, roughly fifty men, broke from cover and filled the field. Gunny took half a second to stare.
What the hell compelled them to do that? He couldn’t even imagine giving an order that might put his people in such a position. The thought of them throwing their lives away, barreling down on gun emplacements, turrets from the shuttles… it seemed like total madness. Yet there they were, firing wildly while screaming their way toward death.
“Wide spread!” Gunny barked. “Sweep them up!”
Despite the insanity of it, their action was still dangerous. One of the Rhulins went down. Another Triton soldier followed. The gun emplacements ripped the ground up, blowing pieces off the men they hit. The shuttles attacks turned targets into mist, tossing bodies in the air when they only came close.
A couple of the ships took heavy blasts from more of the shoulder-mounted weapons. This time, they focused on the military vessels that had shields. They didn’t get the same results and the snipers pinpointed them swiftly, cutting them down.
“They’re moving out!” Desal shouted. “The civilians are out!”
The relief ships took off, cutting to the south after the others. They’d be in orbit inside of ten minutes, out of harm’s way soon enough. Gunny broke from the line, joining the medic working on Corso.
“How is he?”
The medic continued to work, calling, “He coded a moment ago!”
“Shit!” Gunny stood. “We need to get him to the medical bay right now!” He tapped his comm. “Gunny to Triton, come in please!” He received no response. “Oh, son of a bitch! What’s going on now?”
“What’s the problem?” Desal asked. “Is everything okay?”
“My commanding officer,” Gunny gestured, “he’s been hurt. Almost died!”
Desal turned, waving at the woman who organized the first of the civilians. “This is a Pargon. She can assist with your friend, I believe. Her name is Orla.”
“Me?” Orla asked. “I do not know his physiology. Vitrazine may kill him!” She sighed. “Let me perform a scan. I have enough to give him if it will help.” She joined the marine, speaking quietly with him. Gunny watched as she gave the man a hypo. A couple shots came entirely too close to them.
He spun, firing back, advancing as he loaded up a Kahl that came within thirty yards of the perimeter. A second closed, leaping in the air to overtake one of their positions of cover.
One of the snipers put him down, notching him in the forehead. His skull split as he dropped to the ground. A look over their side made Gunny pause, staring at all the bodies. Both sides took a serious beating. Only a few Kahl remained; wounded stragglers in the middle of the field.
The Prytins left their cover, moving to finish them off. They executed the remaining forces without a second thought, shooting each in turn before stepping to the next. This is more their war than mine, Gunny thought. How they go about it is their business. What they consider a crime isn’t the same as us.
Not to mention the fact they lost more people than he did.
“Bearing, White, get down here. I need you on cleanup with our people. Police the bodies for extraction. I want our people on the shuttle and ready to go inside of ten minutes.” He stepped back to Corso. “Is he going to make it?”
“Remarkably,” Orla said, “your people are compatible with our drug. Seems you have a lot in common with the Prytins, but you are not the same species.” She looked at Gunny. “What are you then, if I may ask? What do you call yourselves?”
“Human.” Gunny turned away. “Keep those gun emplacements at the ready in case more of those shit bags come around! Everyone else get with Bearing and White! They’ll give your tasks. Move it people! This shit is just about over!” He drew a deep breath before turning to Desal. “What about you? How are you getting out of here?”
“My unit will depart on foot,” Desal said, “heading to our military camp. There, we’ll find a ship to return to our military.”
“Sounds dangerous. You sure you don’t want to hitch a ride with us?”
“We have Kahl to kill.” Desal scowled. “But Orla is not a soldier. She only stayed to help at the end, but I don’t think there’s anything else she can do here. Will you take her with you? At least get her to one of the Prytin ships so she can get out of here.”
“If she’s willing to go, we’ll take her.”
“Very good.” Desal clapped his hand again. “It was good to fight with you, even if it was brief.” She turned to Orla, taking the woman by the wrist. “May fortune go with you. These people will take you to safety.”
“You… don’t want me to stay?” Orla asked. “I could… if you need me.” It was clear the woman did not want to stick around. Whatever loyalty pulled that offer out of her, she seriously hoped no one would take her up on it.
“No, we have medics. Go with him. You’ll be fine.” Desal smiled. “Maybe we’ll meet again on some other planet. Stranger things always happen.” She hurried away, joining the other Rhulin military people before heading out across the field. They broke into a jog, disappearing into the hills a moment later.
“Welcome aboard,” Gunny said. “Orla, right?”
Orla nodded. “And you are?”
“Stefan. But you can call me Gunny.”
“Odd, but okay.”
“What were you doing out here if I may ask? Civilian, er… Pargon?”
“No, I was in the military camp,” Orla said, “but what was I doing? I… can’t say.”
“Can’t? Or won’t?”
“Don’t know.” Orla shrugged. “I thought I knew. But now… seeing this…”
“Yeah?”
“I need to do more.” Orla wiped a tear from her face. “I have to find a way to do more for these people. For this war.”
“You’ll get your chance.” Gunny clapped her on the shoulder as he strode toward the shuttle. “Time to go. We’re out of here.” He stood beside the ramp, waiting for the rest of his men to board. He wouldn’t look back when they launched from there. This place took way too much. And for what? Murder. That’s it.
When he made his report, he’d call their position Disaster Point. It earned a nickname; something for the survivors to cling to. Success felt an awful lot like failure with all the dead stored for transport.
At least we made a difference in the lives of nearly a hundred civilians. That made some of it worth it. And he finally got his first taste of a real fight with the Kahl. They’re insane, brutal, and don’t care about their resources. Like barbarians from the oldest days of human warfare.
Well… I can work with that. We have experience fighting those with no self-preservation. We won before. We will this time. Gunny boarded the ship after the last of his people stepped onto the ramp. He glanced back at the landing zone, scowling at the pockmarks from enemy fire, the small craters, the blood they left behind. Good riddance.
The doors closed. They were going home.
Chapter 10
“Commander Kivda?” Inda called to him. She didn’t look up from her station; barely spoke loud enough to be heard. There was anger in her tone, an underlying rage he couldn’t fault her for. After what Renz had done, she would likely request a transfer. One she more than deserved. “I have something to show you.”
“What is it?” Kivda joined her, looking over her shoulder. A blip flashed three times then went out. “Were you tracking something?”
“The Flotilla, sir. It stopped. Unfortunately, our beacon also died, but it won’t be going anywhere for a while. I have the coordinates.”
“How far away is that?”
“Close by our standards. That thing moved at the slowest speed which still counts as faster than light. I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s in shambles when we get there. But that’s just from a standpoint of not believing
in the tech. Obviously, it worked well enough for them to escape us.”
“Porth,” Kivda turned to the commander, “get us underway. Inda will provide the coordinates. Get me an ETA at maximum speed. We need to get there right away.” I wonder how many of them will escape. It depended on whether or not the Prytins got what they wanted while they were traveling.
“We’ve got it, sir,” Porth replied. “They didn’t make it far. Two systems away. We can traverse that in literally no time at all.”
“Good. Make it so.” Kivda bent, lowering his voice to speak with Inda. “I swear to you, that will never happen again. And if you want to leave this ship, you will do so with my recommendation. I’ll get you whatever task you want. I appreciate your work, but you deserve to be comfortable if you’re going to serve on a combat vessel.”
Inda nodded. She swallowed hard. “Thank you, sir. That means a lot.”
“If you would like to speak in private or to have an advocate present, I will make myself available.”
“I… will take you up on that, sir. I have some questions.”
“Very well.” Kivda returned to his seat, calling out, “Vhel! We’re heading out to find the Flotilla. Inform General Renz they’ve appeared and let him know we’re on our way to intercept right now.”
“Of course, sir.”
Let him speak with Renz. Kivda didn’t want to speak with the man. His blood still ran hot when he thought about his behavior. Maybe success will calm him down. This trip to the Flotilla should give him some focus. He knew the man’s pride had been slapped a few times. It’s still no excuse.
The engines powered up, making the deck vibrate for a brief moment. It stopped when they entered warp, leaving the empty sector behind. This time, you won’t have battleships to defend you. He recognized that Renz wanted a battle force to meet them. There was no need. Nor would they arrive in time to do much.
He can call them in for the mop-up. Kivda scowled. The ships he wanted would be in the way. Padding for his ego against Griel or Barnes. He couldn’t deny that they might show up, but would they be in time? It depends on if the people on that station can get word out. And how bad off the Flotilla is based on its recent trip.
But the beacon might buy them some time. Depending on how it broke, it could’ve taken coms with it. That would’ve helped. He doubted they were so lucky. Even so, he began to worry about causing unnecessary friction.
“Inda, be sure those coordinates make it to the other ships the General requested.” Kivda clenched his fists. “Tell them to get there as soon as possible.”
There. I’m covered. Kivda sent a message to the ground forces, letting them know they may be required shortly. He had them gear up, heading to the hangar. If the structure is intact, I want to take it. We might just find what they were after this way… or get some prisoners. Either way, I’m walking away with a prize.
***
The door to the medical bay groaned as the manual release worked. Three pairs of hands appeared, yanking the thing halfway open. Alon opened fire, reminding the attackers they weren’t taking the place unopposed. He regretted the decision; wished he’d waited for someone to poke their head in.
I’ll probably have my opportunity. The bed remained in the way, obstructing the criminals from charging in immediately. Instead, they blind fired into the room. Someone kicked the edge of the table, setting it diagonally away from the door. That gave the attackers some cover to creep in.
Dammit! Alon redirected his aim, pointing at the edge of the bed. “Keep your eye on the door, Tiller!”
“This isn’t working as intended, I guess?” Tiller asked.
“Can that shit!” Alon fired at some perceived movement. The blast caught the ground, casting sparks against the wall. He blinked hard, narrowing his eyes. Despite his helmet boosting the illumination in the space, he struggled to see. I’m still struggling with that damn injury!
“You okay?” Tiller let off a couple rounds at the door. A moan erupted in the hall, one that turned to a scream. “Ooh, he wasn’t prepared to be shot in the neck! Take that you son of a bitch! Ha!”
“Cool it!” Alon grunted. “Focus! You’re a professional, not some cowboy. And I’m fine.” Someone leaned around the cover near the door. He pulled the trigger, missing by a few inches at most.
His target shot back, hitting the bed in front of them. A second beam went high, hitting the wall behind them. Sparks fell over them, making the Manager squeal. Without armor, the man took the tiny burns on bare skin.
“Help!” the Manager shouted. “They’re trying to incinerate me!”
Tiller laughed. “Come on, man. You’re fine.” He kept his fire up on the door. Alon’s target skimmed his shoulder. He turned, peeling off two rounds. Both caught the target in the chest, making them convulse on the ground before going still. “You couldn’t do that?” he asked. “Come on, Sarge!”
God help me, he and I are having a talk when this is over. Alon changed his focus to the door. Five guns were blasting away, filling the area with an incredible amount of fire. He ducked lower. They were blind firing but eventually would get lucky. They don’t even care about the goods they want to steal!
The floor began to vibrate though the shooting didn’t stop. Alon took full cover, pressing his hand to the plate beneath him. The Manager started freaking out. He removed his arms from his head, eyes wide as he turned to Alon. He shouted, “What is happening? What is going on down there?”
“How the hell should I know?” Alon asked. “This is your home, not mine.” The vibration became a rumble. Then the station started shaking. Supplies dumped from the shelves onto the floor. The beds rolled off, taking their cover with them. Criminals in the hall stumbled into view. Shooting at them would be impractical.
“Brace yourself!” Alon shouted. He grabbed the Manager while pressing his back against the wall. Tiller shuffled away to the corner. Lights went out. Screams filled the air combined with words the translator couldn’t keep up with. He figured they were mostly profanity or divine pleas for help.
“Has this happened before?” Tiller yelled.
“Never!” The Manager cried. “Never before! I swear!”
A high-pitched whine drowned out the people in the hall. Alon’s helmet engaged noise cancellation to protect his ears. The Manager had to press his hands against his head while his mouth gaped open, likely to scream.
“Well,” Tiller said, “this is more exciting than expected.” He didn’t sound remotely stressed.
How the hell is he so calm? Alon couldn’t ask. Not without revealing his own terror. He closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable explosion to come. The reactor must be on the way out. It’s going to blow, killing us all. While in warp. The only positive news about that came from how fast it would be.
We probably won’t feel a thing.
One of the beds flopped on its side, sliding straight for Tiller. It hit the walls, pinning him in the corner. Alon had no idea if it struck him or not but it looked bad. The other one hit the ground, flipped on its top then slid into the opposite wall. If it moved again, it would come right toward him.
Alon prepared for it, sitting with his legs out. He bent his knees as it slid toward him, moving faster. When it made contact, he tried to absorb it by bending his knees. A shock gripped his spin, running up his back into his neck. He shouted despite himself as the table practically crushed him.
The Manager went insane beside him, screaming loud enough to be heard over the clatter and screech of the various systems throughout the station. Alon shoved at the table, trying to get it away from him but without the wheels, it wasn’t budging. He remained motionless, sweating as his body throbbed and his bones ached.
The shaking stopped. Alon kept his eyes closed for another few seconds. He finally looked around, half convinced he’d see a hole leading into space. But there was nothing. The lights in the medical bay remained off but the ones in the hallway provided some light. He wriggled around until
he could peek over the table, wincing as he aimed his weapon.
“Tiller,” Alon grunted, panting for a moment as he fought through the pain. Not only did his back hurt, but his wound acted up as well. He felt nauseous. Swallowing a couple times fended off a new to throw up. “Hey, are you okay over there?”
“I’m fine.” Tiller came close, dragging the bed aside. He grabbed Alon’s hand, dragging him to his feet. “Uh… the Manager might not be.” The man had passed out. It appeared he had messed himself in the process. “Wow. I’ve heard about guys shitting themselves but never saw it in person.”
And I thought I’d been scared. “I came close,” Alon muttered. “He’s fine there. Though I suppose that’s relatively speaking. Where are our friends in the hallway?”
“Dude, if we got knocked around, you know those jackasses were practically turned into popcorn out there.” Tiller walked over, keeping his gun at ease. Alon lifted a hand to say something but let him go. “Yeah, they aren’t even out here anymore. Well… this guy is. But he’s done.”
Alon joined him. One of their attackers sat twisted like a pretzel, their limbs going the wrong directions. Then he noticed their spine had been turned all the way around at the waist. Blood stained the walls, smearing the floor as well. Some dripped from the ceiling. As Tiller suggested, they’d been tossed all over the place.
A few bodies littered the floor at the far end of the hallway. Some made it to the opposite side. No one appeared to be alive. Not even wallowing about. I guess they didn’t have a chance to brace themselves… or it was worse out here. Alon had no idea, but he took a moment to be thankful for his luck.
“You seem a little messed up,” Tiller said, “do you need some more medical attention?”
“I think all the supplies got messed up.” Alon leaned against the wall. “Try to raise the others on the comm. I want to know what happened. This… this feels like the reactor had an issue? Or maybe we left warp unexpectedly? I don’t know. But whatever the case, we need to catch up fast.”
